You just might

It is noon when you and Kelly stop at the tattoo parlor. A small alcove on the first floor of a much larger concrete building that stands five stories tall. Air conditioning units line the upper windows.

“This one looks open, Ryan!” Kelly announces excitedly gesturing to a bright neon sign that reads Charissa’s Characters. The beautiful older redhead is dressed in a tight blue tank top that barely contains her massive bust. She isn’t wearing a bra, so her hard nipples are exposed.

More than a few male pedestrians glance at her as they walk by on the sidewalk.

You allow yourself to grin smugly.

“Open the door for me,” you say.

“Yes, Ryan,” she replies, not even batting an eyelash at the abrupt command. Your cock twitches in your pants.

She turns and opens the door, swaying her shapely rear seductively as she does so. She’s wearing a tight white skirt that hugs the curves of her hips and her juicy bubble butt. You can’t help but stare at her and take in the perfection of this woman you’ve staked your claim on.

A bell chimes softly within the parlor as Kelly holds the door open for you.

“Thanks, Kelly,” you say as you enter the store. The place is well-lit by the glare of the midday sun. Structurally, the place reminds you of a barber shop. Full body chairs line the sides of the parlor and pictures of tattooed arms, backs, and legs line the black walls. From the background in the pictures, you assume that these were taken here and then framed. Twin spinning white fans line the ceiling. The place is deserted aside from yourself and Kelly, who has followed you in.

“I’ve never actually been inside a tattoo parlor before. I’m surprised they’re playing classical music instead of something darker like Nine Inch Nails,” Kelly says.

“Yeah,” you listen for a moment and try to place the familiar piano tune, but you’ve never bothered to learn the names of the songs Europe’s ancient composers had written centuries ago. Maybe Mrs. Moore would know.

“Hi! How can I help you?” a chipper feminine voice draws your attention to a girl standing the doorframe leading to a room further in the parlor. She’s cute, maybe a year or two older than you. “I’m Amy, by the way.”

The girl stands shorter than you with bright blue eyes and a head of short midnight black hair that doesn’t reach far past her ear. Her skin is pale and unblemished, giving you the impression of someone who doesn’t spend much time outside. You think you saw a tongue piercing when she spoke. She wears tight denim pants that are ripped at the knees and a thin black blouse that exposes only a little bit of her cleavage. Her breasts aren’t large compared to Kelly’s, but they seem perky and firm and you wouldn’t mind getting your hands on them.

“Yeah, I’m looking to engrave a tattoo on my property so she doesn’t forget who her owner is,” you say.

The girl’s eyes widen. “Um, when you say your property, do you mean…?” She looks over at Kelly.

“Show her.”

“You got it, honey,” Kelly says pleasantly and holds out her arm. The black lettering of the sharpie is still clearly visible, thankfully. “See, this means I belong to Ryan Ferro.” Kelly nuzzles into your arm for emphasis.

“Ah, that explains it,” The black haired girl smiles. “That’s kinda sweet, actually. Almost like an amateur love tattoo. I take it you want to replace it with something a little more permanent?”

“That’s the idea,” you say. “But I feel like it would be much more… romantic if I were to do it myself and I was wondering if you could walk me through it.”

“Hm…” Amy brings a hand to her chin and purses her pouty lips in thought. “I get that you want to reward your property with something special so she remembers her place, but you could seriously hurt her without proper training. Plus, I’m not supposed to let strangers use our equipment. Store policy.”

You grimace. You had been expecting something like this. “What if I sweetened the deal?” You unstrap your backpack and hold it out in front of you withdrawing a large wad of cash from the back pocket. “Fifteen thousand dollars if you close up and help me with whatever I want for the rest of today. I bet that’s a lot more than your customers give you in a week.”

“W-wow,” Amy’s eyes widen as she walks up to you and looks at the large stack of green bills in your hands. This is just a “small” taste of the money you’d claimed from Bank of America by writing your name on an ATM machine down the street. You grin as you remember the BOA representative stopping by to hand you all the cash in the machine with an apologetic look on his face. Anything that can convince a bank to hand you money and apologize profusely for keeping it from you has to be a very powerful **** indeed, you think wryly.

From the way Amy’s eyes focus on you with a glimmer of wonderment and a bit of greed, you know you have her. You grin.

“I take it we have a deal?” you say.

The cute girl just shakes her head. “Olivia isn’t gonna believe this…”

“Is she the one who owns this place?” Kelly asks. She gives the pictures on the wall a once-over, perhaps considering what the procedure will be like for her. Despite the fact that you own her, she still displays emotions and desires of her own like normal humans. Those desires are merely subservient to your whims, now. Like an artificial obsession of your own creation.

Amy shakes her head. “Olivia's my older sister. Mom and Dad own the place because we couldn’t afford to open it without their help, but they let us run it most of the time,” she snorts. “Keeps us out of the house, I guess.”

“Interesting,” you say noncommittally, but your mind whirs at a million miles per minute. You imagine what it might be like if you owned a tattoo parlor. It’d mean free reign to permanently engrave your name into any female customer who struck your fancy, not to mention the added benefit of having an additional three beautiful women at your beck and call, if Amy’s relatives happen to share her good looks. You grimace. That’s assuming that your ability to claim ownership of people via your writing extends to tattoos. Only one way to find out, though.

“So that’s it, then? You’re ready to do this?” you say.

Amy nods at you, but you detect a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. She wrings her hands nervously. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to anyone. What kind of person just drops fifteen G’s to have their property tattooed?”

You raise your eyebrows at her challengingly. “She’s my property. My reasons are none of your concern. Suffice it to say, she’s more than worth it to me.”

“Aw, Ryan. You’re so sweet!” Kelly gushes. Her hefty breasts wobble back and forth as she maneuvers herself in front of you. Her lips meet yours tenderly and you respond, kissing the woman you own. You break the kiss a moment later. Kelly instinctively tries to follow your lips with her own before her eyes open and she blushes. “God, I'm so wet right now. You’re the best owner a slutty older woman could ask for.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you reply playfully and smack her on the ass. She yelps and blushes harder.

“A-ahem hem,” Amy is standing near the parlor’s front door grinning sheepishly. “So… I’ve closed up for the day. We should probably move to the back room so we can have a little privacy. Are you and your property ready to get started?”