Sally. Quincy and tattoo

The pain in his thigh was intense, almost unbearable, but Sally accepted it. It was the price of completeness. He felt empty, emptied of his old identity, as the black ink filled the contours of his new reality. He could imagine the deep black of the ink merging with Jamal's dark skin, a visceral and permanent bond uniting them.

Jamal worked in silence for another twenty minutes, concentrating on the final details. The only thing in the room was the constant hum of the machine and Sally's labored breathing. Finally, the noise stopped. Jamal placed the instrument on the metal table with a thud.

“Done,” Jamal said, taking off his gloves.

He approached and examined his work critically, running a clean, damp cloth over Sally's swollen, red skin to remove excess ink and blood. Sally felt the cool touch of the cloth and sighed, her body relaxing after the extreme tension.

“You may stand up and look at yourself,” said Jamal. “Your master has authorized me to make a few small additions that I think complete the whole thing better.”

Sally slid off the table, her legs slightly unsteady. She approached the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. She turned, trying to see her lower back and buttocks. It took her a moment to focus on her image through the tears induced by pain and fatigue.

There, emblazoned in bold black across his pale skin, was the name: JAMAL. The letters were solid, clumsy yet powerful, an unmistakable stamp of ownership. On the back, on his ass, was the addition of "Quincy." Beneath the crown of thorns on his buttock was a stylized drawing of a large black member, surrounded by letters spelling "BBC Only." The ink seemed to glow against the flushed skin, alive and vibrant.

Sally stared at her reflection. Her fingers trembled as she moved her hand to her back, gently touching the tattooed area. The skin was hot, swollen, painful to the touch. But beneath the pain was a feeling of fullness, of rightness. The old Sally had died on the operating table; the one looking in the mirror was a new creature, born of ink and pain.

Quincy approached from behind, placing his enormous hands on Sally's shoulders. Sally looked at the reflection of the enormous black man behind her, his bulk dominating the room.

"Now you're complete," Quincy whispered in Sally's ear. "Every time you get dressed, every time you look in the mirror, you'll see your master Jamal's name. You'll remember who this ass belongs to."

Sally lowered her eyes, staring at the floor, but a thin, almost imperceptible smile touched her red lips. "Yes, Master. I am yours forever."

Quincy then I also took care of piercings, tongue, nipples, navel, ears.

And finally the owner arrived to take me home. Quincy wanted to present his work properly. He had me made up to perfection and then had me stand on a small raised platform, and he put on me a kind of long cape that covered my whole body, down to my feet, so as not to ruin the surprise for the owner. When Jamal arrives, he sees me on this kind of pedestal.

Quincy also arrives and tells the master "I wanted to show you the new look of your sissy properly,"

“Okay Sally, show your new body to the master.”

I untie the lace that holds the long cloak closed and it slides to my feet. I'm completely naked except for the pink cage on my penis and a new collar with a medallion that says "sally slave"

with thigh-high black patent leather boots with very high heels

My naked body immediately shows off my new tattoos, the property brand with his name on it, a bouquet of black cocks, pink nipples, dangling ones in the shape of an ace of spades, large hoops on my ears, and a small diamond in my belly button. My master was left speechless, wow, damn, Sally, you're amazing.

Quincy

It's not over Sally turn around slowly

I carry out the order and show off the other tattoos, the stylized black dick with the phrase only bbc, the jack of spades with love bbc,

And finally "sissy slave"

"Fuck Quincy, you've outdone yourself."

He comes closer and with his big hands caresses my tattoos and plays with my new nipple pendants

«Sally, show your tongue too»

I kneel down to allow the owner to see better, and I open my mouth wide and stick out my tongue, where three small diamonds have been screwed in.

«With these I can guarantee you that when he licks your cock it's a unique experience.»

The tattoo artist walked away, putting his equipment away. Jamal couldn't take his eyes off me. He kept me there, standing on the naked pedestal branded as his creation.

«one»

I ordered.

I moved slowly, my skin pulling where the ink was still fresh. My sore muscles protested. When I was at his side, JAMAL, I turned to the mirror hanging on the wall. The mirror sent back an image that I struggled to recognize: groin marked by the black writing that ran along the sides, the name engraved on the skin was his. JAMAL

"Let's see if the goods still work as well as before."

Jamal said.

the hand that grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back.

«On your knees, let me try the new TOY you have on your tongue

I fell to my knees without hesitation, even though my tongue was still sore I wanted to satisfy my master's desire.

He unbuttoned his jeans slowly, with the slowness of someone who knows he has all the time in the world. The sound of the zipper going down was the only thing I could hear. His cock emerged, already hard. Big, dark, and with throbbing veins. It was a contrast next to my pale face. I knew him well. I had felt it in my throat, in my ass, wherever he had decided to put it. But seeing it there now, after being branded, was different. It was the final seal.

I delicately begin to pass my tongue over the glans and the three diamonds massage it in a new way, much appreciated by the master who screams...

"Oh yes, damn it's wonderful, keep going, don't stop."

Run your tongue over my balls too

"…yes, fantastic."

"Open up now."

I open my mouth. He's not gentle. He thrusts with a sharp thrust of his hips, sinking his cock all the way into my throat in one go. My gag reflex tightens the muscles in my neck, but he holds my head still, his fingers clenched in my hair.

“All of it,” I growl.

“I want to feel your throat working.”

I couldn't breathe. Only swallow, feeling the weight of him filling my mouth, the salty taste of his skin on my tongue. Every time I tried to withdraw, he pushed me deeper, I felt the world go gray and my vision blur.

he murmurs, his voice broken by a low moan.

«So good»

His thrusts become faster, more violent. He uses my mouth like any other hole, slamming his cock into my throat with a brutal rhythm that made my eyes water. My hands tremble as they rest on his thighs, but I don't dare move them.

I feel his body pressing down on top of me, a shiver running through the muscles of his legs.

Damn, he gasped. "Take it all."

The first hot jet hits my throat, bitter and thick. He keeps pushing, coming inside me while holding me still, forcing me to swallow every drop. When he finally withdraws, I'm short of breath and my face is wet with tears and saliva.

He looks down at me, his eyes shining with satisfaction.

"Good" he says

Caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. An almost tender gesture, but the smile that accompanies it is pure possession.

He straightens his jeans and turns to Quincy, who is silently cleaning up his things.

How much do I owe you for this little job Quincy.

While they talk about money and appointments for touch-ups in a month, I remain kneeling on the cold floor. My skin throbs where the ink was still fresh. Finally the owner tells me

«You're lucky, little slut, Quincy gave you a special price.

$600 for all tattoos and piercings,

Pay and say thank you."

Still sore and with my mouth covered in cum, I retrieve my wallet from my purse. I take the bills and, on my knees, hand them to him."

Thank you sir for dedicating your precious time to a useless sissy like me. Thank you, you did a wonderful job on my body.

As a sign of respect I kiss his feet.

Quincy takes one last look at my marked body.

Then he walks away towards the back of the room. The metal door closes with a dull thud.

It's just me and JAMAL. He looks at me like he's looking at something precious. I stand up, my legs shaking. He grabs my wrist and leads me across the room, past the reception desk, to a door I hadn't noticed before. A back room. Quincy's private study, I guess.

The door opens onto a small space. A turned-off computer, a black leather couch against the back wall. Jamal leads me toward it.

«Lie on your stomach»

I obey. The cool leather of the sofa gives me a shiver. I hear him move behind me, the sound of a drawer opening, then the click of a plastic cap.

"I have to put on some cream...for the ink."

His voice was low and calm, his cold fingers touching my back, right where the words SUCK BBC end. The cream is cold, but his touch is gentle, strangely gentle. He brushes the cool letters with a lightness that gives me goosebumps.

"Does it hurt?" he asks.

With a thread of voice I answer

.".and"

"Well"

His hand moves lower, following the curve of my back to where the ONLY BBC writing is still fresh on the skin above my ass.

His fingers press lightly, and a moan of pain and pleasure escapes my lips.

This is one of my favorites, he says

Close to my ear, I feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and the smell of a strong, powerful male.

Whenever someone sees you naked, they know exactly what it's for.

I don't answer, there are no answers

His hand slides further down past the fresh writing, to the crease between my buttocks, his fingers still wet with cream, sliding lightly over the skin.

“Are you excited?” he asks

I nod shamefully, my face buried in the sofa.

"I want to hear you say it."

«Yes, I got excited»

When

My breathing gets shorter

"Since you branded me"

His laugh is low and a warm sound that vibrates on the skin.

“Good boy.”

His fingers withdraw and I hear the zipper click down again.

I still don't have you as you deserve, he said.

“I used your mouth because I wanted to hear you moan with your new tongue piercing.”

But now I want to hear more.

His absent hands grip my hips, pulling me back until my ass is against his pelvis. I feel his hard cock pressing against my slit, hot and thick.

I want to hear you cry when I fuck you.

He certainly doesn't wait for an answer, he pushes his cock into me with a single thrust, without lube, without warning the pain is sudden and sharp, an explosion that pierces my brain, he doesn't stop, he continues to push, he sinks his cock inch after inch, until I feel his pelvis press against my buttocks. He stays there for a second, still, giving himself time to feel every millimeter of his powerful cock inside me.

"Fuck, Sally. Pant, you have a really welcoming ass, I could fit my whole arm in there. Who knows how many black cocks have passed through this slutty hole."

I can't speak, my nails are digging into the leather sofa, my face pressed against the armrest, my teeth clenched in a grimace of pain and pleasure.

«LOOK AT YOURSELF!»

Jamal said, grabbing me by the hair and pulling my head back until I saw my reflection in the black computer screen on the desk. My face was contorted with pleasure and pain, my eyes shining and my mouth open in a silent moan.

See, he whispers in my ear as he continues to slam into me at an increasingly faster pace.

"See what I've done to you?"

I saw it.

A whore branded with his name on her skin PROPERTY OF MASTER JAMAL.

And I wanted nothing more IN THE WORLD THAN HIS DICK.!!

that's when the phone rings.

Jamal doesn't slow down. He reaches for his phone with his free arm. Without even looking at the screen, he presses the answer button. His voice comes out calm, controlled, and collected, as if he weren't kicking my ass.

"Soon?"

My breath catches. I feel his hard, hot cock filling me up until it hurts. He talks as if nothing is wrong.

"And everything is ready," said the voice on the phone.

«

Yes and ready for tonight's group."

I shiver.

His words enter my brain like a hot knife. GROUP, TONIGHT my legs are shaking, sweat on my skin, pain and pleasure mix.

«Yes I just marked him»

Jamal continues,

«The complete writing, PROPERTY master JAMAL, suck BBC, only bbc. and perfect.»

I bite my lip to keep from fear. His thrusts have become slower, deeper, as if he wants to enjoy every moment of that conversation while he keeps me impaled on his cock.

"She'll be one of my best bitches." He says.

And I hear the smile in his voice

«Yes, okay, I'll bring her and my cock. You bring the rest and

Ride,

a satisfied laugh, while with the other hand he squeezes my hair pulling it back towards his chest

The phone was wedged between my shoulder and ear, he kept talking, planning my evening and deciding what would happen to my body without even considering.

The feeling of being used, owned, of not counting for anything except a hole for whoever's cock he decides.

Yes, see you there,

Jamal says. A moan escapes me, I just can't hold it back. His hand tightens in my hair. A warning.

"What happened?" asks the voice on the phone.

"Nothing"

JAMAL responds calmly

"And the bitch who whimpers."

Now I have to go and finish preparing it.

He ends the call and comes closer to my ear.

You heard growls,

Tonight I introduce you to a group of black men who paid to fuck you. I want you ready, wet and open.

And I want to feel as I fuck you that you're a slut and that you deserve every cock that goes in your ass tonight.