The group meet up and head back to the island

Later, the men were standing down on the jetty, waiting for the women to arrive. Kent was checking his watch just as they heard female laughter and Amanda and Stacy appeared, traipsing along the jetty towards them, arm in arm. Amanda leaned down close to the younger woman’s ear and whispered something, and Stacy snorted a laugh, then held her hand up to suppress it, as the two nubile women joined the waiting men.

Richard stepped forward and slipped his arm around his wife’s slim waist. “Looks like you two had a good time!”

Amanda leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “You know me, lover. I could have fun at a funeral!”

Richard slipped a hand down and patted her broad behind. “I know it, sweet-cheeks.”

Kent cleared his throat. “Erm, you didn’t see Helen and Sofia on your travels, did you? It’s not like Helen to be late.”

Stacy turned to him and rolled her eyes in an uncharacteristic way. “Oh, Dad, relax! I’m sure Mom’s just having fun. It won’t kill her to let her hair down a little.”

Arman stepped forward. “With my wife as her guide, I’m sure she’s seen some wonderful sights! But look, here they come now.”

He pointed, and the group turned to see Sofia approaching, arm in arm with Helen, who was walking unsteadily, her body partly supported by Sofia’s. There was no way to mistake it – she was drunk!

Sofia led Helen towards them and looked at them apologetically. “I’m afraid we had one too many of my favourite cocktails, and I underestimated how powerful they are! I’m guessing your wife isn’t in the habit of drinking much?” She looked at Kent with a raised eyebrow.

Kent looked at Helen, with her heavily-lidded eyes and the dreamy smile on her pretty lips. “No, just the occasional glass of wine. Here, I’ll take over.”

He stepped forward and took Helen in his arms. His wife fell into his embrace with a giggle, and he could smell the liquor on her breath, a sweet, rich scent.

The group boarded the yacht and it began its journey across the waters, back to the island as the sun began to sink towards the horizon.

On the return trip, the fresh sea air started to revive Helen, who started to looked about her with confusion, as though she was unsure of where she was. By the time the yacht pulled up at the jetty at the base of the cliff, she seemed mostly sober, and embarrassed that the others had seen her in such a state. When the Varkos said goodnight, the others returned to the beach-house.

When they arrived back at the beach-house, Helen muttered that she needed to take a shower, and hurried to their room, with Kent following after.

She immediately stepped into the bathroom, hurriedly stripped off the dress and the bikini, and stepped into the shower. The hot water cascading over her helped to clear her mind even further as she ran her hands through her hair, but the last few hours were a blank.

She could remember going into the sleazy bar and taking her first sip of the murky pink and purple cocktail, but after that there was only a bulled scene of time passing, and a vague sense that she had enjoyed herself immensely, whatever she had been doing! Then, the next thing she knew she was sitting on the Varkos’ yacht with Kent’s arms around her.

What the hell had she been doing all afternoon?

Stepping from the shower, she reached for a towel and began to dry herself, then froze as she caught sight of her reflection in one of the large bathroom mirrors. What the hell was that on her back? Turning away from the mirror and craning her neck to look, she could see an intricate deign in black ink, etched into her skin just at the small of her back. A tramp stamp! She had a goddamned tramp stamp!

She touched the skin tenderly, expecting it to sting, but there was no pain at all. Neither was the skin around the tattoo red or itching. Didn’t tattoos normally take time to heal?

Forgetting her shock for a second, she couldn’t help but admire the skilled work that had been involved in making the thing. It was a stylized design, resembling two bat wings spread out over her ass, with a horned goat’s head at the center. Not only did she now have a tramp stamp, but it was an occult, demonic design! How the hell was she ever going to explain this to anyone?

She remembered passing the tattoo parlor earlier and Sofia suggesting that she could get something small and discrete. But Helen had sensibly refused such a ridiculous idea. And now this! She could KILL that Varko bitch! This must have been her doing!

Just as she was standing naked in the bathroom and staring at her new tattoo, the door to the bedroom opened and Kent stuck his head around it. "Helen, honey, are you feeling…”

He stopped in mid-sentence as his eyes caught sight of the tattoo his wife was now sporting just above her luscious ass.

He stared at it open-mouthed for a second. This we so unlike Helen! “Wow, baby, that’s…new!”

Helen could only stare at her husband for a moment, not knowing what to say. She felt too ashamed to admit that she’d had a tattoo done while drunk and insensible, and couldn’t even remember it happening!

“I…ah…thought it would be good to get something new, something a bit…daring.”

Kent stepped into the room, and Helen looked down to see an unmistakable bulge in the front of his loose cotton pants.

She raised an eyebrow and lifted her eyes from his crotch to his face. “I mean, it’s quite discrete, isn’t it? No-one will be able to see it at work. It’s not as though I’m in the habit of wearing crop-tops or low-rider jeans to school…”

Kent stepped forward and took her wrist in his hands, turning her around so she was facing the mirror, and looked down at the new design above his wife’s glorious ass.

“Mmm, I like it. I think it’s really hot.”

He leaned into her and she felt his hardness press against her ass.

“Yes, I can tell.”

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, burying his face in her damp hair.

Her shock and anger faded as a wave of lust washed through her, and she turned round to face her husband. Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him back towards the bedroom.

“Strip, and get on the bed,” she commanded. With a lusty grin, Kent obeyed. Then he looked confused as Helen went to this clothes drawer, opened it, and pulled out a selection of leather belts. She then proceeded to use them to secure his wrists to the bed-posts, then his ankles!

Previously he’d have thought Helen and bondage were like oil and water, but he wasn’t about to complain! This was the most sexually exciting experience he’d ever had with his wife, and his cock stood painfully erect as Helen climbed on top of him with a predatory look of lust on her beautiful features.

She straddled him, then turned her back to him so he could see the new tramp stamp in all its glory, as she positioned her slick pussy over his hard cock, and lowered herself slowly onto it.

From a room in the cliff-top mansion, Arman and Sofia Varko watched the scene on a monitor, showing the live feed from the hidden camera in Helen and Kent’s bedroom, as Helen rode her husband reverse-cowgirl style.

Arman growled in a low voice. “I should punish you for disobeying me. When Helen first broke her vows and gave her body to a man other than her husband, I wanted it to be me!”

Sofia leaned in and kissed him lightly. “Try not to be too angry, my love. I simply couldn’t resist seeing the prim and proper Mrs Walker acting like a common whore! In that case, she was totally at the mercy of the lust potion I gave her and had no conscious will in what happened. When she'll give herself to you, it will be fully of her own volition, after she has embraced her true nature. And now she has the tattoo, which appears to be having just the effect we’d hoped for.”

Looking at the monitor, they watched as Helen swung around so that she was now facing her husband, leaning down so that her supple tits pressed against his chest as she bucked on top of him. Arman reached forward and switched to a different camera, which once again showed the view of Helen’s back.

“Also, you can’t deny that it will be truly exquisite when I show her the video I took of her performance in the alley. That should be priceless indeed!”

Varko’s stern expression changed to a wolfish grin and the two let out peels of sinister laughter as they watched the scene on the monitor, showing Helen riding her husband faster and harder. She leaned back and arched her back, gazing up at the ceiling as she fucked him for all her worth, Unseen to either of them, but to the great delight of the watching Varkos, the tattoo began to pulse with an unholy red glow.