Ink and Steel
The second story of the Skin Deep Saga
by Black Cherry

Disclaimer: these girls are mine, they may look familiar and act familiar but they are all mine. Cause we know the world is chock full o’ fine looking chicks like these, right?
Language: Plenty of it and it’s not all good.
Sex: Of course there is sex, the hot and nasty kind. Depictions of consenting adults participating in same sex unions and bdsm scenarios, so if you are vanilla, be warned that this is dark chocolate, both bitter and sweet. If it ain’t your thang, then do not pass go. Do not collect $200, just hit the road now!
Violence: Oh yeah, there is!

Chapter two:
Give me a reason to make you mine

“Shit!” Monica awoke when the alarm went off. She didn’t sleep well at all, and she was tired. She did not want to go to work today, but at least it was Friday. She didn’t have school, so she told her boss she would come in early this morning and finish up some pending projects. She could kick her own ass for it now.

She tossed and turned all night, it was hard to sleep on this new bed, and not to mention the girl who lived next-door fucking all damned night! She thought as she put on her robe.

She put on the coffee and walked to the door to get the paper. She unbolted the door and stepped out onto the patio just in time for her neighbor’s door to open and a dark figure emerge.

Torrid Duncan stepped out into the morning sun and squinted, looking for her sunglasses, turning her face away from the sun she saw Monica standing before her in a bathrobe, clutching a newspaper, mouth agape.

Torrid smirked, “Well, well—we gotta stop meeting like this, Monica. People will think we’re in love.”

Monica frowned and huffed, “So that’s where you wound up. Thanks for keeping me up all night!” she scolded, arms folded across her chest.

“No problem, “ quipped Torrid, “I could have done it the fun way, if you hadn’t been such a bitch at the bar.” She winked and turned to walk away.

“Hey!” exclaimed Monica, trying desperately to think of something mean to say back. She slumped her shoulders and walked back in her apartment. The tossed the paper onto the couch and held her hands up to her face and began to cry.

Torrid was right. She was a bitch.

But she was still angry. She had hoped the nights that she had spent with Torrid would turn into something more permanent. It didn’t. Even after all the time spent together while Torrid applied her elaborate tattoo, nothing. Well, she thought to herself, you can’t tame a wild beast. Or can you? Her eyes narrowed. What is it about you Torrid Duncan?

Torrid got on her bike and sat there for a moment lighting a cigarette. She was surprised to see Monica at the bar last night, and even more so to see her this morning. She was disappointed that Monica had given her the cold shoulder. Chicks usually didn’t do that to her, even if she had blown them off in the past. The chick she fucked last night was fun, but not as sweet as Monica had been, and she had wanted more, but didn’t want the hassle of a girlfriend; and that’s where Monica was heading, while Torrid was not.

What’s she want from me anyway? She thought to herself, a fucking relationship? There’s no way she would be hooking up with some chick on a permanent basis. There were too many honies and so little time. What’s so fuckin’ special about her anyway? What makes her think just because she gave me some ass that I’d fall for her? Women! She was cute though…love the hair!

Torrid flicked her cigarette butt into a nearby trash can and rode off to her shop thinking about pink hair and sweet ass.

All day Monica had trouble focusing on her work. Crunching numbers was not nearly as exciting as color lab, and learning to do perms. She really liked hairdressing and cosmetology, and had a knack for it. She dreamed of opening up an alternative full service salon that offered everything from normal cut and blow dry services to exotic colorations, custom nails, hair extensions and body modification. Even tattoos…

Tattoos.

That made her think of Torrid. She wished she hadn’t thought of her, but her work was incredible. She was not only a talented artist, but also a designer. Her placement and colors were inspired.

She remembered the long hours spent in Torrid’s shop when she had her Pegasus applied. Torrid had a passion for horses, and suggested a Scythian tribal, but Monica wanted something softer, cuter, yet graceful and fantastic.

“It’s beautiful! said Monica when Torrid first revealed the flash to her. “When can we start?”

“Now, if you want.” Said Torrid.

“Yes, please!”

“Okay…take off your shirt”, Torrid smirked.

Monica took off her top and unfastened her bra, allowing her ample breasts to fall free, as Torrid watched. She reached out and took Monica’s nipples in her fingers and pinched them hard, making Monica gasp.

“You want to work or play, baby?” she asked lustfully.

Monica’s eyes widened, as her hidden desire resurfaced and she felt Torrid’s hands pulling at her waist, claiming her into a strong embrace.

Torrid kissed Monica hard, invading her mouth and claiming it. She gripped her body tightly, nothing about her touch was soft, and it was all savage.

Torrid broke the kiss long enough to ask, “You wet for me baby?” Then hungrily claimed Monica’s mouth again, before she could even think of an answer.

Yep. She was wet.

Torrid’s hands gripped at Monica’s ass as she pushed her back on the reclining chase she used for doing full bodywork. She pressed herself heavily on top of Monica and began to grope her way up Monica’s body, until she slid her hand down between Monica’s thighs, sticking her fingers hard and deep into Monica’s wetness.

Monica moaned deep into Torrid’s mouth. She was afraid to open her eyes; afraid this would be a dream. Ever since their first encounter all Monica could think of was being taken over and over by her painted savage.

Torrid got up suddenly and flipped Monica over onto her belly, pulling off her skirt as she did so. She ripped her panties off and threw them across the room.

“Oh yeah…” she said hungrily, smoothing her hands over Monica’s ass, “This is what I want…Monica…I’ll give you the ink for free if you give me some sugar.”

Monica was shocked. She was actually being asked to trade sex for a tattoo.

“What?” She said angrily, “I am not a whore!”
Torrid spanked her ass with her bare hand, and Monica struggled to get away, but Torrid pinned her down. “Yes…that’s exactly what you are…. you’re my little whore.” She whispered into Monica’s ear, making her tremble.

“Give me what I want!” Torrid growled.

Monica nodded.

Then she felt Torrid’s tongue all over her back, moving down…waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay down! Holy shit!
Torrid’s tongue was in her cleft, and if felt so fucking good! Monica’s heart raced, she was so wet, so aroused…

Then she felt a different sensation…the head of Torrid’s dildo, pressing between her cheeks…

“WAIT!” she yelped…but Torrid didn’t stop.

She used her body weight to pin Monica down and shoved her cock deep into Monica’s ass. Monica screamed, Torrid pushed harder, leaning in to her ear and whispering to her, “Take it for me…” Monica relaxed at the command and felt a whole new world open up. So to speak.

Torrid fucked her for what seemed like hours, and she loved it. She felt her body alive, and pleasured, the layers of tension, stress and pain, ripping away with each thrust into her. As though she were being set a flight with wings of her own.

“That’s it, you’re my little ass whore now!” Torrid said as she came. Monica felt Torrid collapse on top of her, sweat covered and exhausted. Her cock still buried deep in her ass.

Torrid pulled out and rolled over next to Monica, spent she was defenseless against the inevitable cuddle. There, they slept, Monica in Torrid’s arms ‘til the wee hours.

“Hey Earth to Monica!”

Monica started; she didn’t hear her boss come up on her.

“Wha? Oh…sorry Andy, I was just thinking about something.”

Andy, the middle aged Asian man smiled. “It’s okay, I was just going to tell you, you can go anytime. It’s Friday.”

Monica smiled.

“Have a good weekend.”

“I will. You too!” Thank god! Now I can get the hell out of here and whack off! Monica thought as she grabbed her keys and headed for the door.

 

In her studio Torrid put down her pencil and stretched in her chair. She looked at the clock, and smiled. It was late in the afternoon and it was Friday. She decided to cut out early and go shower and head to Chances for a drink and a game of pool, then take in a movie and make an early night of it. She promised to take Lockjaw to the park in the morning, and he remembered.

She reached down and scratched his head as he slept loyally at her feet. “Good boy—the only soul I trust on this earth.” She said softly to him, “I can’t let you down, can I?”  He thumped his tail in recognition of her voice, even though he was sleeping.

She headed up to her loft and hit the shower and chose a clean pair of jeans and a white 'A' shirt to wear. She put on an old beat up straw cowboy hat that had been painted black and decorated with silver skull shaped studs. She called it her “Rob Zombie” hat. She took one last look in the mirror before grabbing her keys, “Torrid, you’re still a heartbreaker”, she laughed.

She told Lockjaw to keep watch and was out the door.

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Wonder where tall dark and stupid is off to now?”, Elektra whispered to herself as she watched Torrid leave her studio through field glasses. “Guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” She said to herself.

“Five years is a long time, Torrid baby. Did you miss me?” She smiled wickedly and put her car into gear.

 

Monica unlocked the door and hurried inside before her dogs went all crazy and got out on her. The two massive chows pounced her and snorted with glee now that mama was home.

“Hey babies! Did you miss me?” she asked, setting her purse and keys on the hall table.

“Yes we’ll go for a short walk, and tomorrow we’ll go play at the park.”

She took them for a quick walk, and then headed back up to her apartment in time to grab the phone.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey! How are you?” Asked Sara on the other end of the line.

“I’m good; tired, but good. How about you?”

“We’re great, in fact, we want to take you to dinner, you up for it?”

“Yeah, a quiet night sounds good to me. It will be a quiet night, right Sara?”, Monica asked cautiously, remembering the last time they met up for drinks and she wound up meeting Torrid.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Okay then, pick me up when you’re ready.”

“Will do..See you in an hour.”

Continued in Chapter Three

copyright 2003, Black Cherry. All rights reserved.