Pussy Tattoo

Lois Lane leaned against Tyrell as she thought about his question, and gave a little hiccup. She could feel the buzz of the ****, a pleasant feeling really.The reporter wasn't against tattoos—many of her friends had gotten them at university, but Lois had never really had an image she'd wanted to permanently place on her body. Now, faced with the prospect, the **** reporter felt herself put on the spot. She needed to get a tattoo....someplace that people wouldn't see, but that would mark her out as a drunk slut...

An idea came to her, and she gave a smile. Her pussy! She kept most of it shaved, except for a bit of trim...her labia was the perfect place for a tattoo. No one would see it during the day, and it would take time to heal, so there couldn't be any sex tonight.

The drunken reporter congratulated herself as the elevator struggled to a halt, and the doors slid open.

They walked out into what had been a large open warehouse space, and was now some combination of tattoo parlor, flophouse, and porn film studio. Someone had set up a series of semi-transparent curtains to mark off different rooms in a kind of grid...but Lois could see women in their underwear sleeping together on mattresses, dark lines of ink on their exposed skin; film cameras, buckets of used condoms and empty lube bottles, and straight ahead a masseuse's table and stool, on which was a wolfishly thin woman with a mane of black hair.

Her bare arms were almost black with full-sleeve tattoos, and the white wifebeater she wore showed they extended across her collarbones and up her neck...but the dark eyes settled on Lois Lane's own, and Lois blinked through her alcoholic haze. It was like staring into the eyes of a frog, something utterly inhuman.

"Fresh meat," Tyrell said. "My friend here wants to be a film star. Get a little ink."

The reporter gave a drunken giggle, as she tried to ignore the hammering of her heart against her breastbone.

Blaze raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"My pusshy," Lois said, slurring her words a little. She blinked. "It's shaved."

A thin half-smile graced Blaze's mouth, like the Mona Lisa's smile.

"Okay. Take off your pants and hop on the table. Tell Jojo to get the camera ready."

Lois almost let out a sigh of relief...but she wasn't so drunk as to drop her act completely. As she settled her ass on the table, she watched with strange curiosity as the tattooist prepared her tools....and wondered what she was going to tattoo on her labia.