More Tattoos, More Piercings

The clip of the scissors brought Lois Lane back to wakefulness. Snip snip, snip snip. Light, feathery things fell into her lap. The heat of the sun beat down on her neck.

Snip snip, snip snip.

The reporter knew she was seated in a chair, but not bound. The pain of her recent branding, tattoos, and piercings had dulled to only the memory of pain. She could feel the marks on her skin, the weight of the rings at crotch and nipple, but they didn't hurt.

Strong hands held her hair up. Snip snip. It fell down.

"No use pretending," the voice said. "I know you're awake. Sit up straight, and do not move."

The reporter's muscles responded almost before her ears could discern the meaning of the words. Her back was rigid against the chair, spine straight, hands grasping the arms. Lois Lane's eyes shot open.

The chair was outside the pavilion, where the light was better. Circe had tucked the scissors into her belt, and was mixing something white and frothy in a small bowl. As Lois watched, she began to paint it on her head, the mixture cool against the sun. It smell of oranges, soap, and cream.

Then the sorceress set the bowl aside, and drew out her straight razor.

"Remain very still," the sorceress suggested, no magical compulsion to her voice as she brought the edge of the razor to Lois Lane's forehead...and gently drew it back.

Now wide awake and doing her best to relax, not to squirm, Lois was aware of...other changes. Her skin felt smooth. Too smooth. She looked at her arms, her body...and could not see a single hair, except those that had fallen from her head to catch in her lap. Even the downy little hairs on her arms and legs were completely absent, the dark tanned skin gleaming.

"I removed them, permanently," Circe said as she carefully drew the blade back over the reporter's scalp. "They will never grow back. I want you to stay like this, for me."

There were other things different as well. Lois could feel something in her ears—unfamiliar piercings, high up. Something in her nose too, an unexpected weight through her septum. It made her want to sneeze, but she dared not.

"I made a few other little changes. Nothing too obvious. You need not wear the extra earrings or nose ring at work, but I want you to keep the channels open."

There was a soft, scraping sound, like steel on kid leather, as Circe removed the last vestiges of hair. She paid special attention around the ears, the back of the neck. Lois dared not even swallow as the witch made the last few passes.

Her body wanted to squirm. Fear, and the unfamiliar weight of the piercings, was stimulating her. The reporter had heard about that kind of thing with genital piercings: unwanted, unexpected orgasms. They were supposed to fade after a while, but to Lois it was all so new, and she was in such a state...

Circe gently rubbed her head with a cloth.

"Why?" Lois voice her voice when the witch finally tucked the razor blade away. The heat of the sun beat down on her bare head now, which felt very sensitive.

"I wanted a blank canvas," Circe said, stepping from behind Lois to bring forth a small tray with sharp needles and pots of ink. "When you hair grows back, no one will see it. One more little secret, just between the two of us."

The reporter's muscles tensed as the sorceress' cool hands steadied her head. The sharp point of the needle touch the crown...and then pushed down, the tip piercing the skin, like the most perfectly-poised wasp...and began to drag down.

Lois tried not to shake. Grit her teeth and clutched the edge of the chair. Last time, she had been ****. Now...now Circe wanted her to feel every moment of it. Unable to move, unable to resist, trapped there as the sharp tattooist's needle marked her indelibly, ink seeping beneath the skin. She wanted to scream, but dared not.