Part one of Indelibly.
**The elevator lights counted up twelve floors as I stood there, looking at the tattoo on her left arm, reading the challenge. I would have to read all her words and do what they said. As as I did she would reveal more of herself — more of her words to me.
“You can stop whenever you want,” she said. “You just won’t see the rest.”
That was the difficult part. I wondered if I’d be able to stop if I wanted. I wondered if I’d want to. My breath felt raspy and ragged as I thought through the implications of what she was saying. The elevator dinged, and opened onto her floor. She handed me her card. “I’m in room 1238.” Once again I tried to sneak a peek at her left arm’s writing, but saw nothing new as she waved me on.
I opened her door and held it for her as she went inside. I followed her in, and she handed me her coat to hang up. She walked into her room as I did, trying to resist the urge to stare at her tattoos.
The room was a typical hotel room with a king-sized bed. There was a small functional bathroom, a desk, a television, and a couple of chairs. She sat in one, with her legs out, crossed at the ankle. “You wanted to see, right Kyle?” she asked, waving me to her with her left arm.
I approached her and she held out her hand. I took it in mine. The tattoo started just above her wrist and wound up around her arm. I read it aloud. “These things are yours to do: to speak the truth, to caress and kiss, to show obedience.”
“What truth shall I speak?”
“The words, if they are true,” she said. “Or, more simply, don’t lie.”
“And obey the words, and caress and kiss them?”
“It would be a start,” she said.
I took her right hand in mine, and traced the first word “They” and whispered it aloud before kissing it. I worked my way up her arm, and around. The final word, I traced with my tongue before whispering it, “command,” into her ear. Then I took her left arm and did the same. Her breathing got a bit faster, and more shallow as I worked. Then, finally, I whispered her left arms’ final word, “obedience” in her ear.
She turned to me then, and kissed me, pulling my lips to hers. She parted my mouth with her tongue, and we kissed long and hard. “That’s a very good start,” she said. “There are more.”
She slid the strap off her right shoulder, letting it fall down her arm. The top of her dress fell, uncovering her right breast. The words started below it, and spiraled up onto it, ending just outside her areola. It was a simple command, that I desperately wanted to follow: “Caress and tease and touch and kiss.”
I took her breast into my hand and traced the words around with my fingers. I teased her nipple with my fingers, feeling them stiffen as I worked. I leaned down and kissed the words, ending with a kiss on her nipple. As I leaned back from the kiss, she dropped the other strap, revealing a similar tattoo on her left breast.
“Nip and squeeze and lick and suckle.” I leaned back into her right breast, and lightly bit her nipple, before turning to her left. I smiled at her, and took both breasts in my hands, and squeezed them. I licked her nipples, and then began to suck them. She sighed, and ran one of her hands through my hair, pulling me to her nipple. The other held her dress in place, confirming to me that there was more she was hiding, beyond just her legs.
After a moment, she pulled me up by my hair, and I let her.. We kissed some more. She was as hot and bothered as I was. She pulled back from the kiss. “The rest is more intense,” she said. “More demanding from you. I want you now, though. I can turn off the light, and go to my bed.”
“But then I won’t see your tattoos until morning.”
“Not even then,” she said.
“I need to see,” I said. I rubbed my pelvis against her; I knew she could feel how hard, how needy I was.
“Then you need to remove my boot,” she said. She pushed me away, and I slipped down her body until I was kneeling in front of where she sat. Melinda lifted her left leg and placed her left foot in my hands. I reached up and unzipped the boot, then took the heel in one hand and pulled the shoe off her her feet. She stretched the foot, arching it against my hands.
I kissed her toes, and she laughed. “Read the words, Kyle. There will be time for that later.”
The script started at her ankle. I traced it with my fingers and brought my lips to each word, whispering each while my lips brushed over it. “Low to the ground, kiss the thighs of the one you will obey.” I kissed the word “kiss” that I’d seen on her earlier, teasing the place behind her knee before sliding up to her left thigh.
I pushed her dress up and she helped, pulling at it. The final word ended at that sensitive place on the inner thigh. I french kissed that spot, teasing and sucking — invoking those other words — until she pushed my head away. “Do the other leg now, Kyle.”
“In a hurry?”
“No more than you.”
There was truth in that, although I thought I’d reached a plateau of horniness. I didn’t think I could be any more aroused than I was at that moment, but I was conflicted. I had to know the words, and I wanted to sink my cock deep in her and be surrounded by her words forever. Ultimately, I had to know the words more, so I pulled off her second boot and set it aside.
She let out a sigh. “This is the one,” she said. “This is where you’ll stop.”
“There’s always the bed, Kyle. I’m not trying to trap or tease you.”
“I don’t think you understand how much I want to know all your words, Melinda.”
She shuddered then, and let out a low moan. “You are so beautiful down there, Kyle. Read my words, for Gods sake! Don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”
“You?” I said, but took her foot in my hand and kissed it. “Commit” was the first word. “Forever” was higher. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reading the whole thing. “Commit yourself forever to her care; promise with your gentle touch.”
I read it out loud, and then ran my hand slowly up her leg, tracing that tattoo’s script as I went. This one was longer than the other leg, and went all the way up to her panties. I kissed her thighs, and she writhed on the chair. “Is this what you want?” she whispered. In response, I just teased the words with my tongue and played a gentle rhythm over the sensitive spot in her thighs.
While I kissed her, I reached up under her skirt, and latched my fingers under the waistband of her panties. She stopped me with her hands. “This is the last challenge Kyle. Once you read these words and obey them, there’s no going back.”
How must it have felt to get a tattoo there? It was like she’d dedicated her body to my fetish, to being a temple to my desire. The question then was would I commit myself, would I go on?
“You’ve committed yourself forever to these words,” I said. I spoke slowly and traced the matching words on her skin as I spoke.
“Y es,” she said. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair so tightly they were red.
“You want someone as committed to you as you were to getting these.”
I looked up at her then. “Someone who will be the only one to see them. Who will want to see them, and obey them. And you.” She looked down at me with a gaze I couldn’t read. She was teetering between hope and loss, and control and chaos. I slid my hands back up the outside of her thighs, bunching her dress around her midriff.
Her back straightened as I hooked my fingers once more in her panties. Her hands unclenched and something in her seemed to settle. I wasn’t sure what I was submitting to: my own desire to see the words. her commitment to wearing them. or to Melinda herself. I wasn’t sure that it mattered, because without her none of it was possible.
I pulled her panties down.
Her muff was the soft fine hair that blond women have; her words stood out well behind her hair. Above her lips — her wet, aroused lips — were the words. “Be mine: lick.” I moved forward, and her legs parted to grant me access. Her hands threaded through my hair, touching me but not insistent, not yet. That waited until my tongue slid between her folds and then, then she pulled me tight to her and thrust against my face.
Her bare feet found my hard cock. I was still dressed, still wearing my nice dinner pants, but my cock was hard and obvious. She put her feet on either side of my cock, and I rocked back and forth against them. My tongue slid in and back in the same rhythm: lick and thrust, lick and thrust.
Her breathing was fast, but she was otherwise quiet, controlled. She began to rock me back and forth with her hands, controlling the speed, controlling the motion. I licked and sucked and nipped — all as her words commanded me. My cock was hard and raw, and then I was coming in my pants, soiling them. But her hands were still insistent, her pussy wet and hot and inviting. I kept licking and rubbing and thrusting back and forth.
Then she grabbed me. She grabbed me with her hand and legs and words, and pulled me in and held me there. I licked and sucked as best I could for someone who couldn’t breath. She cried out and shook against me; it seemed like forever, but couldn’t have been that long. It was long enough that I was gasping for air (or, perhaps, from release) when she let me go.
She pushed me away for a bit, pulled the dress off, and she was there, gloriously naked except for her words and her sweat. There were more there, on her midriff, and I moved forward to read them. “Whisper promises” was tattooed around her bellybutton, and I whispered into it, “I am as indelibly marked as your skin.” Up from there, and ending just below her breasts was “Lay your head to rest.”
I lifted myself up, still kneeling at her feet; she pulled me up with her hands, and I put my head there on her breastbone where the words were written. She wrapped herself around me, enfolding me with all her words. Yet there were many blank places to write my future commands, I realized. But I didn’t say anything.
I just rested my head between my Mistress’ breasts on her words to me.**