Immoral Views

by Kay Jaybee

  “I think it’s time,” Hank said as he switched off the gun and put it on the side.

  His fingers busied themselves between my thighs, finally feeling the sweetness that his wife had already had the pleasure of twice. I felt drugged as I watched him insert a finger deep inside me, twisting and turning, before bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean.

  “Yes, you Poppy, my flower, will do just nicely.”

  “She’s perfect,” Carmen agreed, kissing her husband on the cheek.

  ♦♦♦♦

  I got dressed in a daze, drowsy from my orgasm and the new tattoo. Standing on shaky legs, I walked over to the full length mirror on the far side of the salon, gazing at the new design etched upon my flesh. It was beautiful. A blue hummingbird now accompanied the flower on my hip, swooping down low in the direction of my womanhood.

  Carmen and Hank flanked me either side. Hank cupped my cheek and turned my face to meet his lips. I tensed instantly, unsure of how I should be reacting to the attention that this married couple were lavishing upon me. I relaxed as Carmen kissed my neck and I opened my mouth to welcome Hank’s insistent tongue. My lips parted and for that moment we were one.

  “Let’s move this to the back, shall we?” Hank said, extracting his lips from mine.

  They led me away from the prying eyes of the rest of the salon clientele. Walking through the black curtains that separated the salon from what existed beyond, I was in awe. They led me down a long corridor, passed Carmen’s office, down a steep flight of stairs and into what can only be described as an old theatre. It was astounding — decadent decor of heavy, plush fabrics, dark polished wood and rows upon rows of vintage theatre seating.

  “What is this place?” I asked, completely unperturbed that I was still naked from the waist down.

  Hank slipped an arm around my waist and said, “This, Poppy, is the House of Ink – the home of the Circle of Ink.”

  “The Circle of Ink?”

  “Those like-minded individuals who also feel the power of the ink and the gun.”

  I looked at Carmen, my eyes drawn to the pout of her lips as she spoke. She stroked my cheek and brushed a stray wave of hair behind my ear.

  “And you, Poppy, will tonight be initiated into The Circle. I think you have demonstrated everything that a good member will be. You feel the power of the gun. You feel the passion of the ink as it seeps into your body.”

  I nodded, unable to comprehend what was happening.

  “Is this some kind of. . .cult?” I asked, my voice trembling with nerves.

  “Oh no, pussycat,” Hank said, his growl rolling over me and causing my pussy to swell. “This isn’t a cult. You are free to come and go as you please. . .to leave at any time. But I don’t think you’ll want to. This is where you’ll come tonight, eight o’clock sharp,” he said and smacked my bottom hard before leaving Carmen and I alone.

  “Carmen, I’m not sure I can do. . .”

  She stopped me mid-sentence by placing her finger across my lips.

  “Hush now, pussycat. Come tonight and if you don’t like what you see, you will be free to leave. Eight o’clock. Sharp.”

  ♦♦♦♦

  I felt anxious as I drove to Ink Majestic that evening. I checked my reflection in the rear-view mirror. Smooth porcelain skin – check. Dark smoky eyes and long, thick lashes – check. Plump, plum-tinted lips – check. Smooth, silky blonde hair – check. I looked good, but had dressed casually in faded, ripped jeans, a fitted white tee that accentuated my petite curves, and pointed black stilettos.

  I parked the car and made my way into the salon. Violita looked up as I entered, smirking with a knowing look and nodding at me in approval as I strutted passed.

  “Looking good, Pops!” she sang as I disappeared through the black curtains that separated the salon from the theatre behind.

  After winding my way through the corridors I eventually pushed through the heavy doors that led into the theatre. My breath left my body as soon as I crossed the threshold. The previously empty theatre was now thriving with life, men and women in every seat, more lining the aisles where no more seats remained. The room went dark and I was blinded by a spotlight landing upon my form. I froze, wolf whistles and the loud sound of applause ringing in my ears.

  “It’s okay, pussycat,” someone said, their lips brushing my ear.

  Carmen.

  Her lips found my neck, kissing their way across my skin and coaxing me into a state of relaxation. I felt drugged, unable to withstand her adorable assault on my neck as the crowd in the theatre watched on.

  “Everyone’s looking,” I said, my throat dry and voice hoarse.

  “Let them. This is just the beginning.”

  Before I could respond a man’s voice bellowed throughout the auditorium.

  “Silence!”

  Silence.

  I looked to the stage and saw Hank, microphone in hand and smile upon lips.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight you will watch as a goddess is born amongst us. Tonight you will witness perfection.”

  He gestured towards me and then I was walking towards him, making my way through the crowd and up the stairs onto the stage. Carmen was behind me all the way, her hands on my hips as she gently pushed me along.

  Taking hold of my hand, Hank continued his speech.

  “Let me introduce you to Poppy. New. Innocent. Unmarked.”

  I felt Carmen’s hands slide beneath the hem of my white tee and she raked the offending garment up and over my head before I could really comprehend her actions, baring my breasts to point boldly up and out into the auditorium.

  “Poppy – a beautiful, demure, untainted flower, her splendour yours to feast upon.....”

  Next went my jeans, and my panties just as easily. Carmen popped open the button and slid first one layer and then the next carefully over my thighs and along my calves, before I stepped out of them completely.

  “.....A flower, ladies and gentlemen, that will tonight wilt before your very eyes. A flower that will crumble and die forever.”

  My eyes widened in alarm, what the fuck!?

  “No need to panic, pussycat,” Carmen whispered as her hands caressed the small of my back.

  “. . .Ladies and gentleman, for the next two hours, I give you, Poppy, The Art Project!”

  The audience rose from their silence and cheered as Hank dropped his microphone and led me to a raised platform in the centre of the stage. I followed nervously, doing everything as he and Carmen instructed. I lay atop the altar, a soft velvet cushion resting beneath my head. It was draped with soft fabrics, in deep hues of crimson and purple.

  “Don’t leave me,” I said to Carmen and grabbed her hand as she began to move in the direction of the crowd.

  I turned to Hank as he sat on the stool to the side of me and lined up his equipment on a small, wooden desk. My eyes lit up. More ink! I calmed instantly, suddenly not caring about anything else or the fact that I had a hundred people looking at me.

  He was ready. He turned towards me with the gun and caught my eye, returning my smile as he honed in on my skin. The needle hit my shoulder and Hank began to work. I had no idea what he was drawing, maybe he didn’t even know, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered now was the sound of the gun buzzing in my ear and the way I felt as the ink seeped into my skin.

  I felt alive, my nerve endings ablaze with passion. I looked for Carmen, smiling as I saw her already at my feet. I, along with a theatre full of people, watched as she stripped off her clothes, revealing the most beautiful tattooed torso I’ve ever seen. She was inked from neck to foot, magnificent designs, colour popping from every inch of flesh. I was drawn to her breasts, each painted with erotic scenes of naughtiness – lewd sex acts depicted in ink. It was amazing.

  I wanted to look at her, to soak in every picture that tainted he
r flesh, but she quickly quashed my intentions by climbing atop the altar and settling between my thighs. I closed my eyes as her fingers stroked my pussy, easing between my slippery folds and high up into my cunt. She worked me slowly, first one finger, then two, three, four. Her thumb swiped at my swollen clit, rubbing in circles as I mewed and wiggled.

  I came quickly, urged on by the needle working its magic across my shoulder. I tensed, the gun hitting a tender spot just below my armpit as Hank’s design continued to expand across my body.

  “Relax, Poppy,” he said, his breath hot on my skin.

  I opened my eyes, looking at my body and watching as the rainbow of colour swirled across pale flesh.

  “More?” He asked.

  I nodded my consent, eager to feel the bite of the gun on my flesh again. I followed his gaze to Carmen, my eyes growing wide as I saw the queue that had now formed behind her. I tried to sit up but Hank held my shoulders firmly in place.

  They were all beautiful. That’s the first thing I thought as I looked along the line of people, all now naked and waiting patiently. Expectantly. Men and women all painted with the most intricate of designs – a fierce lioness roaring from a broad chest here, a watchful depiction of Christ adorning a shoulder there. There was sleeve upon sleeve of flowers and fish, portraits of loved ones and many a tribal band. There was black, white, grey, yellow, purple and orange, blues, greens, pinks and reds. The theatre was awash with colour.

  Carmen now sat on a stool behind my head, raking her fingers through my long blonde locks as the first person in line approached me. A man stepped onto the altar, young and fit. His body was toned, biceps strong and thighs chiselled. His cock was already hard and he slid his hand over its length again and again before settling at my entrance.

  I moaned as the tip of his cock penetrated my core. No teasing. No foreplay. He eased himself through my folds and into my cunt, slick and silky from Carmen’s oral assault. His cock was thick and he thrust hard, relentless and brutal until he withdrew and shot his seed over my flesh. Then he was gone.

  Another man quickly replaced him, his long, slender prick teasing my snatch, rubbing his tip between my lips but not quite close enough for the penetration I craved. He tapped himself against my clit, over and over until I begged him to fuck me. He smiled and slid his cock into my cunt, thrusting over and over and over until he too withdrew and his cum rained down onto my chest.

  “How are you doing, pussycat?” Carmen asked as she leaned down and kissed me.

  God, I loved her kisses, so soft and sweet and full of playfulness. She smiled against my lips and nibbled on them gently before pulling away to watch the show that was being performed in front of her.

  “I’m fine,” I said, my eyes sparkling.

  I looked at Hank again, watching as he drew a chain along my ribs, white and yellow daisies dotted along its cord.

  “This chain symbolises your role here in the Circle of Ink. You are chained to us now, Poppy. And these daisies. . .they symbolise your floral beauty – how one flower is now wilting and another is born in its place.”

  I didn’t understand a word he was saying, I was too distracted by the busty brunette that was now licking through my folds with expert precision. Carmen suckled on my nipples, tugging and nipping whilst Hank continued to taint my skin.

  Those two hours flew by in a whirlwind of climaxing colour. I was kissed, caressed, teased and fucked within an inch of my life, all the while with Hank’s needle dancing deliciously over my flesh. I was exhausted by the time Carmen called a halt to the proceedings, announcing to the Circle that for now the night was over.

  Everyone left, all satisfied that they had received such pleasure from a new vessel. The newest member. Me. But before they left, Hank announced my new name. That night symbolised the death of Poppy Shorkings and the birth of Rexxie Belle — new and central member to the Circle of Ink.

  Chapter Three

  ♦♦♦♦

  I lay on the altar, exhausted from the evening’s events. Carmen stroked my face softly as Hank tidied up the equipment and secured the building.

  “Time to go, ladies. Let’s get this pussycat home,” he said, planting a kiss to my forehead.

  My legs remained unmarked, but my arms and torso now glittered with ink. They wrapped me in a cotton gown and Hank lifted me into his arms, carrying me through the salon and to their car.

  “What about my stuff. . .my car?” I asked sleepily as Hank gently laid me on the back seat of his spacious SUV. Carmen slipped inside and drew my head onto her lap.

  “Tomorrow, Rexxie,” she whispered. “We’ll worry about everything tomorrow.”

  And with that I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

  ♦♦♦♦

  The days glided by, weeks turning into months. I finished my studies without anyone discovering my secret – that I was Rexxie Belle, the new amulet of The Circle Ink. I soon began to perform at the theatre, dancing with the other female members for the pleasure of the wider Circle. I was a natural, excelling at my art and soon people began paying to see me perform.

  I earned enough money to move out of my parent’s home and into a place of my own. I bought an apartment close to Hank and Carmen’s at their request. Yes, they had become quite fond of me, their little pussycat. It soon became clear that I held a place in their lives that no one before had been able to. I didn’t understand it at first, but after a year of living as Rexxie, I realised that we were bonded together with more than a love of ink and public sexual exploration.

  It all became clear the first time they visited my new apartment. The first time we shared the night together. Hank kissed me – a slow, sensual dancing of lips against lips. My senses were alert, alive and bristling with desire. Pulling away, I was left incoherent, unable to recognize a word they were saying through my lusty daze. Carmen urged me from the sofa and led me into my bedroom, caressing my shoulders as we went.

  We stood at the foot of the bed, Hank in front of me and Carmen behind, both treating their little pussycat to slow and lazy touches, stripping my clothes until I was the only naked one amongst the three. My eyes fluttered closed as their touches continued, hands exploring me as if for the first time. Hands skimmed over the tattoos that covered my skin. It felt new and different, as though whatever happened now would be so much more than before, symbolic of our love. Mutual love.

  I moaned loudly as Carmen’s teeth sunk deep into my neck, bruising me, marking me as her own. The thought alone sent a wave of arousal rushing through my body and straight to my pussy, now wet and slick and ready for whatever they wanted from me.

  “You like that, pussycat?” Hank said as he tugged at my lobe, nipping with a sharp bite and eliciting another strangled mew.

  “Oh, I think she does,” Carmen crooned in response.

  Moving to the bed, Hank and Carmen quickly shed their clothes and continued to shower me with attention.

  “I’m going to fuck you, pussycat,” Hank whispered against my neck as Carmen suckled on my nipples, rolling them into ripe little buds of rosiness whilst her hand strayed to my sex, her fingers teasing with barely-there strokes against my flesh.

  I rolled my hips in time with Carmen’s motions, my pelvis rising to meet her touch, begging for something more. Something hard.

  “Please....” I panted as Hank’s fingers joined his wife’s, his large hand cupping my mound and sending delicious waves of warmth through my body.

  I moaned as he dipped a finger through my dewy folds and into my core.

  “Christ,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “You’re so wet, pussycat.”

  Glancing at Carmen, Hank caught her staring at his hand and the things it was doing to my cunt, working my flesh so easily, sliding through my pout and up into my tight little entrance – first one finger, then two, and then three. His thumb jerked out to swipe against my clit, the nodule
of nerves now standing proud and expectant.

  “Help me,” he encouraged, taking Carmen’s free hand and bringing it to my sex.

  As his fingers slid from my core he twisted them through Carmen’s hand before sliding them right back in. I moaned loudly at the feeling of their fingers inside me, two of Hank’s and two of Carmen’s, twisting and twirling, pumping and swirling.

  Christ, I felt full. But still I yearned for more.

  “I want to watch, Hank,” Carmen said playfully. “I want to watch you enter her tight, wet pussy. I want to watch you thrust into her slowly, making her writhe with pleasure. I want to watch you kiss her whilst your cock nestles deep inside her walls and your balls slap softly against her ass. I want to watch you make love to her.”

  He looked at her sceptically.

  “Please, Hank. . .please . . .” Carmen begged, already settled back and toying with her pussy.

  He grabbed her hair, fisting it firmly and tugging her closer, kissing her eagerly.

  “Okay,” he said and let his wife go, moving up the bed towards me.

  “Rexxie,” he whispered as he gazed at me with eyes so wild and feral. “I want you to fuck me, okay?”

  Nodding, I rose and climbed over him until my juicy pout was hovering eagerly over his thick cock. I leaned down and kissed him firmly, thrusting my tongue deep into his mouth, his breath hot and bitter around me. As his tongue lapped against mine, another stream of arousal surged from my core, my pussy now open and wanting and ready for his girth.

  Breaking away from his lips, I placed my hands on his chest, fingernails digging into the ink that stretched over his muscles, just the way he liked it.