A strip mall for clothes shopping, some…tool shopping, some tattooing and some humiliation.

Bryce nodded, then narrowed his eyes, “Tattooing? No tattooing needle is going to penetrate our skin. Believe me, I know.” And it had been a neat trick to explain the broken needle to the tattoo artist…

“They will—OH—“ She moaned as he slowly pressed her back down on the cock that was filling her cunt and her world alike. Bryce smiled at her obvious distraction and pleasure. His own self-control was far from infinite, but the pleasure of so completely dominating a woman who’d viciously beaten him more than once was a nice consolation prize, at least for the moment.

He spoke as if he wasn’t using her body for his pleasure, as if they were just idly discussing matters. “Ah, it must be the collars, but how can you be sure that they’ll permit…” he smiled to himself at a sudden, wicked thought, “her to be tattooed?”

Shelby turned her head as far as she could and pulled a hand from around his neck to brush her hair aside, and tilted her head to reveal a small scar on the back of the neck, right above the leather of the collar that enslaved her, no the collar had simply weakened her, she had enslaved herself. “I got this scar the last time I was wearing one of these. It stuck around, so will the tattoos.”

“I see.” He pressed her down again, filling her more completely than she’d ever been filled before, then held her there as she squirmed atop him, dancing on his cock. “All of that will cost money. If you think I’m paying for your amusement, you’re mistaken.”

“We have money! Lots of it! At our hidden lair!” She said as she jerked her hips, trying to get the bounce she wanted.

“Do you?” He asked menacingly as he lifted her up.

She narrowed her eyes, then flushed angrily as she realized what he meant. “You have lots of money at our hidden lair.” She said petulantly.

Bryce grinned and released her. This time she did fall on his cock, not the smooth motion of his easy control of her body, but mere gravity **** him deep into her. He patted her head condescendingly, “Good girl.”

Her flush turned into a blush that raced over ivory skin as those words sent embarrassing pleasure through her. She took advantage of her temporary and partial freedom to wrap her legs around his waist and begin to use him as a pillar, pulling with her hands to rise, then dropping back down, fucking him eagerly. She would make him want her, make him take her, take back some bit of the power Ultimagirl had over him. Surely he had to be almost ready to cum. It wouldn’t be as good as if he’d cum the moment he touched her (her cunt and clit disagreed most vociferously with her brain on this point) and he’d be cumming second, but she could pretend that was about Monica, not Ultraboy, she couldn’t cum from that pathetic bastard’s fuckstick, no matter how big it—

She was interrupted by something vibrating hard against her thigh. A shudder shot through Shelby at the vibration, but she bit down hard on her lip and managed not to scream, riding out the tiny orgasm with no more sign then a few additional squeezes of her cunt on the cock that filled her.

Ultraboy reached down into his pocket and produced the communicator which had so surprised her. After glancing at it, he pinned her to the wall with one hand and answered the communicator…