Car Show Slut Ch. 06

Maybe I could just go down there now and get the right one done? The thought sent a kind of tingle through me. It would mean I would have to face the tattoo biker again. That would be embarrassing. But in truth, I did want to get it done. And it was like what Roger said, what's past is past. It would be a bit embarrassing to go there again, absolutely, but the nipple piercing last time didn't take long, so I could be in and out in a jiffy. Then I would have it, the job would be complete, and after a few days the pain would have worn away. Maybe I could even buy a few different design rings and pins while I was there? Yes, I could accessorize! What a thought, I laughed to myself.

The exit that led to the tattoo parlor was approaching as I sped down the freeway. Could I go back there now? Should I? Why not? Be decisive. I took the exit.

Straight in, get it done, then straight out, I told myself as I parked the car. At least this time it wasn't yet nightfall, so I felt a lot safer stepping out of the car than I had the first time. This really wasn't a good neighborhood, but at least with the late afternoon sun having not yet disappeared behind the buildings, the normal commercial activity of the day was still in evidence. I opened the door and went inside.

The old guy looked up from the counter as I closed the door behind me. He recognized me instantly. For a moment we looked into each other's eyes as I approached the counter. His expression was different from what I remembered. It was like he was looking straight through me. It was the look of a man who had 'known' me, the only man to have done so in quite a while, in fact. He looked somehow different. Still disgusting, but in a different way. His eyes had a sinister steel to them. He seemed to almost exude power. I felt uneasy. I felt embarrassed with him looking at me like that. Somewhere deep inside I was starting to sense that this hadn't been such a great idea.

"Well, hello darlin'," came the gruff voice. "What can we do ya for? Problem with the piercings?"

"No, no problem," I said. "I just want to get the other nipple done."

"Alright," he said, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. "Step this way."

I followed him into the back of the shop.

"Them others still hurtin'? Pain shoulda gone away by now."

"Yes, they're fine now."

"OK, good, just gimme a minute while I set up."

The smell of beer and male sweat pervaded this shambles of a room. He'd obviously been drinking, although he seemed pretty coherent to me. I was alone in the room while he fiddled with his equipment on the other side of a partition. Soon he was back.

"So how they look, the piercings?"

"They're fine," I said calmly, but inside I was nervous, embarrassed. I would have preferred he say nothing that alluded to our previous encounter, but rather just get on with the job and get it done.

Then he walked over to me. He was standing directly in front me. I could smell his breath, the beer, the tobacco. He looked me up and down.

"OK darlin', let's get you out of that pretty shirt and get this done," he said, as he reached across, his fingers fiddling with the buttons on my blouse. My God, he was undressing me! I froze, as much in surprise as in fear or embarrassment, as he went down the row, one button after the other, until the front of my blouse was completely opened. Then he slid it off my shoulders. I felt the roughness of his palms as they slid down my arms, sending a shiver down my spine. A voice inside rang alarm bells that I shouldn't be letting him take my blouse off, that I should be doing it myself, but my conscious mind rationalized the situation: what does it matter – you've got to take it off anyway.

I stood there in my skirt, heels and bra. He reached around my waist and unclasped the bra in one deft movement, and removed it. Now I was naked from the waist up. His eyes bored into my breasts, studying them. Then he ran his finger along the underside of the pierced nipple, his hand dropping down to linger on the underside of my breast.

"Mmm, nice," he said, but I couldn't be sure if he was referring to my breast, his piercing job or both. For such a disgusting old guy his touch was amazingly delicate. I could feel my nipples hardening under the gentle caress of his finger still on the underside of my breast. I felt I should put a stop to his attentions so we could get on with it, but I had to admit his finger felt just so good. I would let him linger just that little bit longer.

My nipples were getting hard. Well, it needed to get hard for him to do the piercing, didn't it? I felt myself starting to relax under his touch. My nipples were responding, but so too my pussy was beginning to throb. God, he knew exactly what to do! Then he moved to my other breast, kneading it with his big hand, tugging the nipple. I heard him moan under his breath. It sounded more like the snarl of some wild animal. I watched as his tongue snaked out and flicked the nipple. Oooh... He slid his tongue around and around it, then engulfed it with his mouth, his beard scratching against my soft skin just like it had felt the other day. I was getting lost in the sensations – ooh, I wished he would just stop and get on with the piercing! It was embarrassing, this was not how it was meant to go. He was making me wet; God, he was making me so hot, and I felt almost powerless to stop him!

Then he did stop. He walked over to the table where he done my clit ring and pulled off a drab-colored sheet that was covering it.

"Darlin', why don't we use the table for this one? Might be more comfortable."

The table? How would it be more comfortable? I was beyond the point of arguing. Table, chair, what does it matter? I felt his hand go round my hip as he led me towards the table.

"Darlin', why don't you slip out of that pretty skirt and panties? Wouldn't ya be more comfortable like that?"

I should have been expecting something like that. I'd just let him take off my blouse and bra, and the last time I was here I had let him fuck me. I should have known where this was heading. This had not been a good idea at all.

"Come on," he said, encouraging me towards the front of the table. I can only think that my conscious mind can not have been operating at full capacity, impeded perhaps by the stirring in my loins. Because my nipples were almost aching from the attention they were now no longer receiving, and my pussy, well, I was wet again. I let him guide me to the table, the table on which he had pierced my clitoris. The table he had used to fuck me.

I felt his big hand round my ass, felt his fingers fumbling at the back of my skirt. Suddenly I felt the material go loose around my waist. He was unzipping my skirt! I looked down, surprised at myself at my calmness, almost as if detached from my own being, and watched my skirt fall to the floor. Almost as an instinctive automatic reaction, I stepped out of the skirt that was now pooled around my feet. Then I felt his rough hands around my waist, fingers sliding under the elastic. God, he was pulling my panties down! He was now squatting on the floor, in front of me, sliding my g-string over my hips and down my legs. I didn't stop him. Why didn't I stop him? And again, when it was all the way down to my feet, I lifted one foot, and then the other, so he could pull the tiny underwear free. God, I had actually helped him do it!

"Good girl," he said, his gravelly voice seemingly searing through my ears, my brain registering and even accepting his compliment as I stood there naked for him. Any sense of power over my own actions I had somehow seemed to be draining away from me. I seemed unable to act, but only to react to what he was doing. Then, standing up, he grabbed hold of me and lifted my body off the ground. I felt tiny in his big, rough hands. The muscles on his tattooed arm were bulging. He was strong. He laid me down on the table.

I felt him strap my thighs just as he had done before. The familiarity of the leather straps across my legs was somehow almost comforting. Strapped down to the table, naked except for my heels, there was no longer any question of who was in control.

"Your arms too?" he said.

My arms? He's asking whether I want my arms strapped as well! Some of the girls like it that way, I remember him chuckling last time. Strap my arms? I almost felt like I deserved it. For being so weak. I didn't even answer his question. I just lay there silently as he pulled my arms back over my head, and a felt the leather being pulled tight around them. Strapped to the table, naked, like a cheap slut.

"OK, let's get this done," I heard him say. He was down between my legs still. I glanced down my body, across my naked chest, nipples pointing to the ceiling, legs spread wide. He was crouched down, looking straight into my pussy.

"Hmm, good job," I heard him say as he feasted his eyes on my most intimate parts, my pussy, that he had taken for his own on this very table only days ago. "Very, very nice."

I could feel his hot breath on my inner thighs. Then I felt his tongue around my outer lips, warm, wet, soft... Ooh... No, please don't! But the words only reverberated around my brain. The only sound that escaped my mouth was a soft moan as his tongue slithered its way up to my clit. I felt the warm wet tip of his tongue slide around my clit ring, the ring that he had given me. I could feel the ring as his tongue gently nudged it, his hot breath against my wet lips. Then his tongue slid all the way up my slit, roughly, now invading my inner lips. Ohh.. My body convulsed, my legs shaking, straining hard against the straps.

Then I heard a noise from out in the shop. Footsteps! There was someone else here! Someone was coming into the room!

"Hey Joe, do you know where... Oh, sorry!"

It was the other guy who worked there! He was standing in the doorway!

"Oh, Larry, glad you're here," said the tattoo man, who I now knew was named Joe, glancing up from my pussy to address the younger man. I wanted to disappear under the earth. I shut my eyes. I wanted to cry. Here I am, strapped to a table, naked, legs spread, a man going down on me, and another man has come into the room and can see me with this old tattoo guy like this!

"No, don't go, you stick around," he continued. "Get over here, boy," he said as he stood up and walked to the front of the table.

"Now Larry, this young lady here has come to get her nipple pierced. Now as you still learnin' this trade, this might be a good time for a bit of on-the-job trainin'. Now, for doin' this, we need to get the nipple hard. Now, 'course we could turn the air-con up a mite, that'd do it, but as you can see the lady here is all nekkid – liable to catch her death of cold. Now how else y'all think we could achieve this?"

Lying there, strapped to the table, naked as the two men stood over me, discussing my body, my nipples, like a couple of doctors about to operate on a patient, and staring at my exposed, wet pussy, I felt I would literally die of shame. I struggled to hold back the tears. I closed my eyes, clenching them shut. This was such deep humiliation right to the core of my being, in a way I never knew could be possible.

"Er, well, you could get them hard with your fingers," said the man named Larry.

"Yep, that'd work," said Joe. "Why don't you give that a try?"

Then I felt a thumb and forefinger clamp around my nipple, twisting it back and forth. He was rough. He kept at it for what seemed like about half a minute before I heard Joe speak.

"Good job. You're learnin' well. Now, can you think of any other ways to do this?"

"You could eat her pussy," I heard Larry say.

"That's right, you could. Let's see what skills you got in that area."

I heard his footsteps as he went around to the foot of the table. Then I felt his tongue. Oh no, this man is going to lick me! And he did! I felt his tongue lap roughly all the way up my slit, then again and again, like a dog licking its dinner bowl clean. He was rough, like his hands had been on my nipple, almost punishing. But even then I felt my body respond. He was rough, too rough, but my body tuned right into the treatment, just as my mind wanted to take flight and disappear from this ordeal.

Then I heard an alarm ringing out in the shop. It was the phone.

"Larry, you better get that. Oh, and Larry, your assistance here won't be required no longer, neither. Un'erstand?"

"Right boss," Larry replied, as I heard him leaving the room.

"Now, where were we darlin'?" said Joe. He was back at the foot of the table now. "I think you just about ready. Might just give you a bit more tongue lovin' just to make sure."

I felt relieved that Larry had gone, and that he'd told not to return. Relieved? But now I was here alone with Joe! And no doubt, before this is all over, he's going to fuck me again! No! It's not going to happen! I will stop him. But I'm strapped to the table. I can't move - literally. He could do anything – ANYTHING – to me, and I would be completely powerless to do a thing about it. What if I tried to put up a fight? He could hit me and I could do nothing to stop him. What if I screamed? Fat chance that Larry would do anything to help. They'd probably just tape up my mouth – and there was a big roll of tape sitting just there amongst the clutter on the side table – and then they'd probably both fuck me!

Oh but his tongue felt so good! God, it was just like the last time; he was a master at pleasing a woman! I just lay there and let him do it, but what else could I do? Ooh, his mouth clamped wide around my whole pussy, his tongue diving inside me. I found my mind conjuring the shocking image of him tearing at my pussy with his teeth, like a wolf, ripping my flesh, but in reality he was not hurting me at all, just gently engulfing me with his mouth, his tongue invading my opening. Oohh yess!

Then he stopped.

"Hmm, that's one tasty little pussy ya got there, darlin'," he said as he got to his feet. His face was drenched. With my juices. "Think you're about ready now."

He walked over and picked up the piercing tool and the small steel pin that would soon be stuck through the hole he would make through the side of my nipple. I looked down my body. My chest was heaving. My heart was beating fast. My body had felt a painful loss when he stopped licking me; he had set me on fire. He'd taken me close to the point of orgasm and now he had stopped. It was depraved, but I longed now for the moment when he would pierce my flesh, hurt me, penetrate me. I needed to feel that unbearably exquisite pain wash through me again. He had the tool in his hand as he walked around to the foot of the table.

Trembling in anticipation, I strained against the straps on my arms and legs. The leather was burning into my skin. I pushed harder, hard so it hurt. It was like scratching an itch. He was between my legs again, reaching up my torso to my remaining 'virgin' nipple. He held my breast, feeling its firmness, tweaking the already rock-hard nipple between his fingers. Then his fingers clamped down on the nipple, clamped down hard! Ohh, there was such force in his grasp I thought he would tear my skin apart!

"Yeess!" I heard myself scream shamelessly as the pain shot through my body. I wished to God that he hadn't heard me, so that I could conceal my desire, my shame. But he knew. My eyes flashed open and there he was hovering above me, with that wicked grin on his face and those evil dark eyes. He looked like he would be capable of anything.

"Hey darlin', never done it like this 'fore, but since you seem to be likin' it so much, do you mind if I just slide this ol' dick inside ya while I'm doin' the job? Might make the pain a bit easier to cope with."

'This ol' dick' – it was almost funny to hear him say such a thing, but then I felt that dick probing my opening. He'd already taken his jeans off and now he was running his cock up and down my slit, just like he'd done last time. Only this time I was wide open, so wet I must have surely been soaking the table. Whatever my mind thought was the right thing to do, my body and my pussy were totally consumed by desire. My body felt like it existed only to be filled with his cock; that was its purpose, and my lips were straining open, craving the arrival of that big shaft. There seemed no way around it; he was going to fuck me. How did it get to this? I only came here to get a quick nipple piercing. Now look what has happened - he's going to fuck me again!

He's going to fuck me and pierce my nipple at the same time! That is what is going to happen! I shut my eyes again. My conscious mind could barely reconcile what was happening to me.

"Now darlin' I don't want to do it this way if y'd prefer I dn't," I heard him suddenly say. "Would you like me to fuck you while I do the piercing?"

He was forcing me to say it. Right then I needed his big cock, needed it penetrating me, ravaging me, as much as I had ever needed anything before. I looked up into his cold steely eyes. His biker's beard, that evil missing teeth grin, his foul breath. I hated him for doing this to me. He had made me his prisoner, his plaything. He'd let his employee toy with my body like I was a two dollar whore. And now he was taunting me, asking me to beg him to fuck me.

"Fuck OFF!" I screamed into his face, hardly knowing from where inside it had come from.

He almost stepped back in surprise at my sudden fury. Then he smiled and bent down so that his face was barely inches from mine. He was breathing heavily, just like I was. His breath was disgusting.

"Aw, come on darlin', don't be like that."

Then he leaned in and kissed me. The foul taste of beer and cigarettes was almost overpowering as I felt his tongue invade my mouth. There was nothing tender in his kiss, unlike the way he had lovingly licked my pussy, it was pure aggression, as though he was raping my mouth and I could not stop him. And I couldn't – I tried to turn away but his big hands were holding my head fast as he ravaged my mouth with his. Soon I began to respond – I kissed him back, whether out of desire or anger, or a mixture of both, I do not know, but it made me feel like I had betrayed myself – even more than I already had. My lips found his tongue and I sucked it hard before his mouth overpowered me and the assault began once more. And then he stopped, lifting his head away from mine.

I felt his hand on my pussy. He was toying with my slit with his fingers. Then I felt two fingers slide inside. Oh God, I was so wet. They slid straight inside me; there was almost no resistance. He grinned at me as his fingers invaded my wet opening. I felt so ashamed.

I closed my eyes. With two fingers gently rocking back and fourth inside me, I felt his thumb resting on my clitoris, on the ring, flicking it, playing with it. The two fingers went deeper, allowing his thumb a better access. Then he began to squeeze the hood of my clitoris across the clit ring, forcing his thumb and fingers together with some force. Ooh, I had felt nothing like that before! He was holding me with such force that, were I not restrained, I felt he'd have been able to lift my body off the ground through my three fingers holding my pussy and clit. His fingers continued to slide slowly, up and down, up and down.... OOOhhh...

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a big cock inside you while I pierce your nipple?" he whispered into my ear, his fingers still gently probing me, in, out, in out. I felt defeated. I felt I would cry but I tried to hold back the tears, desperate not to give him the satisfaction. Yes, I wanted his cock. I wanted to feel it inside while he ripped my nipple apart. Fuck me, penetrate me, hurt me. Oh yes, I wanted the fucking bastard to do it.