“No!” Bella exclaimed, when she saw where they were going. “No! Charles, that’s a tattoo parlour! I can’t!”
The street was busy, so Charles just took her by the hand, leaned toward her ear, and whispered, “Ssh. You wanted to apologise, right?”
Bella stopped dead still in the middle of the street, and refused to move further. “Charles, *no*! I’m not getting a tattoo!”
Charles looked at her in amusement, and then deliberately raised his voice. “Oh, so you’re *not* sorry about seducing your boss into fucking you?”
Bella’s face went bright red. Charles thought her new bimbo-blonde hair made the blush look even prettier than it would have been before her first “apology”.
“Charles…” she whined, in a quiet voice.
Charles walked a few more steps down the road. “I guess you *like* having your cunt full of your boss’s sperm,” he said, even louder.
Bella’s eyes went wide, and she hurried after him – towards the tattoo parlour. “Charles, please, be quiet,” she begged.
“It’s just going to be a small tattoo,” he told her. “Just my name in a love heart. To show that you really love me, and you’re sorry about being such a whore at work.”
She whimpered. She didn’t want to go on – but he had raised his voice again to say “whore”, and she had flinched when he did, and she clearly wasn’t prepared to have this argument in the street.
So before she knew it, she was inside the tattoo parlour.
Charles had called ahead in advance. He knew one of the girls who worked here – Alanna, a pretty raven-haired bisexual whose clothing tastes ran towards “punk” and whose sexual tastes ran towards “cruel”. Charles and Alanna fucked sometimes – and in fact, he had fucked her only two nights ago, sharing Bella’s rape video with her, and it had been then that he had come up with the idea for Bella’s next “apology”.
Alanna was waiting now as Charles and Bella entered the parlour, and she escorted them to a private back room. It featured a chair that was somewhere between a dentist’s chair and a hospital bed.
“You’re Bella, right?” said Alanna, smiling. “Your boyfriend says you want his name in a love heart, on your hip. Is that right?”
Bella whimpered again. She didn’t want a tattoo. It would mark her body forever. It would make her look like a slut. Only sluts got tattoos. This girl, Alanna, had multiple tattoos over her arms and her exposed midriff, and Alanna *definitely* looked like a slut.
She looked to Charles, mutely begging for mercy.
“That’s right,” said Charles. “A tattoo on her hip.”
“All right,” said Alanna. “Let’s get your skirt and panties off, honey.”
“What do you mean?” asked Bella.
“The tattoo will be right next to your panty line,” said Alanna. “We can’t do it with your clothes in the way. Be a good girl and take them off.”
“You heard her,” said Charles. “Be a good girl. Unless…. you don’t really want to apologise?”
Bella had no idea that Alanna had already orgasmed to the video of Bella being raped by her boss, and definitely didn’t want Charles to elaborate on what she might need to apologise for. So she obediently unwrapped her skirt – blushing – and then slowly pulled down her panties.
Alanna smiled at the site of Bella’s pretty, waxed pussy.
“Into the chair, babe,” the tattooist said to Bella, and Bella obediently seated herself in the odd contraption.
As she sat, her eyes fixed on the tattooist’s bench of tools, and her eyes widened in fear. Which was why she didn’t notice at first as Alanna took her wrists and strapped them to the arms of the chair with thick leather straps.
“What are you doing?” she asked, when she finally did notice.
“Tattoos hurt, honey,” said Alanna. “We can’t have you moving around. You’ll ruin the art.” Then Alanna moved to the other end of the chair, and pulled Bella’s legs apart. She strapped each ankle into a stirrup at the foot of the chair, and then pulled another set of straps around Bella’s thighs. Her legs were now spread wide apart – and so was her pussy – and there was nothing Bella could do to close them.
“Is this really necessary?” begged Bella.
“Ssh,” said Charles, and stroked her hair patronisingly.
Now Alanna got another tool – a long white plastic device with a bulbous head.
“Is that a… massager?” asked Bella.
Alanna laughed. “Technically, yes,” she said. Then she placed the device between Bella’s legs, with its head pressed against her spread pussy, and secured it into place using the thigh straps. She flicked a switch, and the device began to buzz.
Bella squealed. “Stop it!” she begged. “It’s… it’s buzzing against my groin!”
“It’s supposed to,” said Alanna. “Tattoos hurt. This is going to give you some good endorphins, to counteract the pain.”
“No!” wept Bella. “Please! It’s lewd! I’m a good girl! I don’t want this!”
“Sssh,” said Charles again, and then turned to Alanna. “Can we get a gag for her or something?”
“Absolutely,” said Alanna. She moved to Bella’s mouth, and pushed something into it the next time that Bella opened her mouth to protest. It was a metal ring, that sat between Bella’s teeth, stopping her from closing her mouth. The ring connected to metal straps, and Alanna fastened these behind Bella’s head, securing the ring in place.
“Aaaaga aa aaga!” cried Bella. Unable to close her mouth, she was beginning to drool. “Aaaga aagg agga!”
Alanna pursed her lips. “It’s not a full gag, I’m afraid,” she said. “She can still make noise.”
“Oh, I think I can fix that,” said Charles. He unzipped his pants, took out his cock, and pushed it into the ring gag. Unable to close her mouth, Bella could do nothing to stop him pushing his dick into her mouth, until it was bumping against the back of her throat, and Bella could make no sound at all.
Her eyes were wide with indignity and disbelief. She looked up at Charles, begging him to explain why he was mouthfucking her, here, in public, in front of this tattoo slut.
“Sssh,” said Charles again. “Just be a good girl and suck. You want to apologise, don’t you?”
Then Alanna took a seat, and went to work on the tattoo.
Bella’s confused reactions were a joy for Charles to behold. The tattoo hurt – and the pain was all the greater because Bella neither wanted the tattoo, nor was prepared for it. She squealed at the first needle, and kept trying to squeal around her mouthful of cock for the duration of the procedure.
But at the same time the vibrator was buzzing against her cunt, and she couldn’t resist what it was doing to her. It seemed like being restrained only increased her response to it, and within minutes her face was flushed, her nipples were perky, and her pussy was visibly wet.
She was drooling from her ring gag, as her mouth alternately made pained piggish squealing noises, and sloppy slurping noises as she did her best to please Charles’ cock. Her eyes slowly glazed over, and Charles knew that now the only things that existed in her world were the pain in her hip, the throbbing in her cunt, and the cock in her mouth.
Finally, the tattoo was done. Alanna took a picture on her phone, and then passed the phone to Charles. She then moved to a position between Bella’s legs. In one hand she held a new tool – something different from her tattooing gun – and in the other she took the vibrator, and pressed it harder against Bella’s pussy, upping the intensity on the device as she did so.
Bella started to moan and buck. Despite herself, she was nearing orgasm. Charles watched her intently, waiting for the moment where she would not be able to stop herself, and would orgasm no matter what happened to her.
When he saw that moment come, he held up the phone in front of her eyes, and said, “Look at your pretty new tattoo, baby.”
Her eyes focused on the phone – and then went wide with horror and shock.
The tattoo did indeed feature a love heart – but what was written within it was not her boyfriend’s name.
Rather, it said, in large, legible letters, “I CUM FROM RAPE”.
And as she stared at it, her body, unable to stop itself, began to orgasm.
Which was the same moment that Alanna reached out and pinched Bella’s clitoris between the grips of her piercing gun, and pulled the trigger. A small metal bolt lanced through Bella’s clit, piercing it, filling her clit with agonising pain at the exact moment of her orgasm.
Bella screamed into her mouthful of cock – which was all that Charles needed to reach his own orgasm, and ejaculate down her throat. He couldn’t help himself – he started to laugh as he pumped his cum down his screaming girlfriend’s throat.
When it was done, Alanna slipped a metal hoop through Bella’s newly-pierced clitoris – an obscenely large one, that would make it difficult for Bella to close her legs without stretching her clit. And Charles took his cock out of Bella’s mouth and wiped it clean on her cheek. He left the ring gag on her for now – he quite enjoyed the way it made her drool and reduced her speech to nonsense animal sounds.
“It’s okay, baby,” he told her. “It’s just your apology. It will help you stay faithful to me, you see? After all, no one will see the tattoo or the pierced clit except for me – unless you cheat on me with someone. Just keep your clothes on around other men, and it will be our little secret, understand?”
She stared up at him, tears in the corners of her eyes, and Charles thought she was prettier now, like this, degraded and weeping, than she had ever been before her journey into “apology”.
And he wondered if her boss would enjoy her new clit ring the next time he raped her. He suspected he would. And Charles was already planning how Bella would “apologise” for her next rape…