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Women Only
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Straight Female / 33
Once You're Spoiled By A Master How Can You Top That
"Down a road I never imagined. I was one of four clerks in the office. The newest, but not the youngest. I had just received my associates degree in business. My path had been from wanting to be a Nun, to being a kindergarten teacher at the school I grew up in, to being a travel agent. Without any formal education the Priest in my Parish suggested strongly I needed to find something, and get an education. That's when I went to our local college and got my associates in business. Even I recognized I was stuck at seventeen. I didn't want to grow up, but I was twenty five.
At my job the owner asked me go with him to a customer's shop. It was a big warehouse with welding and noisy machines making stuff out of metal. A fabrication shop. The men there looked at me in a scary way and I stayed close to my boss. He got his business done and we stopped to eat at a roadside hamburger grill. Everyone were men like the men from the shop. The girl working the counter had on a top that said "I Give Head" and tattoos on her arms and chest.
We ate quietly. My boss said something about the counter girl, then he looked at me and told me if I ever got a tattoo he would give me a lickin' that I would not forget. He wanted me to see another world, a world I would never live in, a world that put food on my table. On the way back to the office I asked what that girl's shirt meant. I had never heard that expression.
I became his office favorite. He was very affectionate with me. One day he wanted something special for me and took me that ugly side of town where he grew up. A tattoo parlor and had a tattoo put on my ass. I could only see it with a mirror, two Japanese characters, his name in Kanji characters on my ass. He took me for a ride and then to his house. He had me stand facing away from him and he lowered my pants to inspect his tattoo. He pulled my pants down below my butt before turning me around to inspect me, and he asked me if I was his virgin girl.
I didn't stop him when he took my shirt and bra off. He held my boobs in his hands and kissed me where he would have me tattooed again for him. I was totally nude by then, barefoot, with nothing on but my earrings. The 'act' itself was uneventful, he managed by himself, I didn't know enough to help or participate.
Now that he had cemented his relationship with me he spent a lot of time educating me on how to please him. Along the way he had my breast tattooed with his Kanji characters. I took my training seriously, I wanted to please him in every way I could. Looking back on those days he was a man with worldly experience and took me to levels I haven't experienced since. I'm spoiled, I know it, half the fun was being spoiled. He played me like a fiddle, one of my grandmother's expressions, and I responded to him.
By the time I was thirty he was wasted by cancer of the lungs. I cried at his wake and funeral, and when I was alone. I have these tattoos to remind me of how lucky I was. When he took an interest in me I was still a teenager at heart. I'm not a teenager, scared I will never meet a man like him again, a man who can play the fiddle, and I can dance to his tune.
At my job the owner asked me go with him to a customer's shop. It was a big warehouse with welding and noisy machines making stuff out of metal. A fabrication shop. The men there looked at me in a scary way and I stayed close to my boss. He got his business done and we stopped to eat at a roadside hamburger grill. Everyone were men like the men from the shop. The girl working the counter had on a top that said "I Give Head" and tattoos on her arms and chest.
We ate quietly. My boss said something about the counter girl, then he looked at me and told me if I ever got a tattoo he would give me a lickin' that I would not forget. He wanted me to see another world, a world I would never live in, a world that put food on my table. On the way back to the office I asked what that girl's shirt meant. I had never heard that expression.
I became his office favorite. He was very affectionate with me. One day he wanted something special for me and took me that ugly side of town where he grew up. A tattoo parlor and had a tattoo put on my ass. I could only see it with a mirror, two Japanese characters, his name in Kanji characters on my ass. He took me for a ride and then to his house. He had me stand facing away from him and he lowered my pants to inspect his tattoo. He pulled my pants down below my butt before turning me around to inspect me, and he asked me if I was his virgin girl.
I didn't stop him when he took my shirt and bra off. He held my boobs in his hands and kissed me where he would have me tattooed again for him. I was totally nude by then, barefoot, with nothing on but my earrings. The 'act' itself was uneventful, he managed by himself, I didn't know enough to help or participate.
Now that he had cemented his relationship with me he spent a lot of time educating me on how to please him. Along the way he had my breast tattooed with his Kanji characters. I took my training seriously, I wanted to please him in every way I could. Looking back on those days he was a man with worldly experience and took me to levels I haven't experienced since. I'm spoiled, I know it, half the fun was being spoiled. He played me like a fiddle, one of my grandmother's expressions, and I responded to him.
By the time I was thirty he was wasted by cancer of the lungs. I cried at his wake and funeral, and when I was alone. I have these tattoos to remind me of how lucky I was. When he took an interest in me I was still a teenager at heart. I'm not a teenager, scared I will never meet a man like him again, a man who can play the fiddle, and I can dance to his tune.
