The Pen Is Mightier Than...

I'd like to be tattooed by an amateur. Some artist-type would hold his pen or his paintbrush over my naked form. His eyes would creep greedily over my flesh as he wondered where to make his first mark. My flesh would tingle under his scrutiny. He'd take visual posession of me in a way unlike usual. This would have the pretense of objectivity. This is an exercise. This is not personal. This is me as an object and this is him as the subject. He would do to me.

Maybe he'd dawdle and doodle scrolls and whorls across my shoulderblades. He could obsess over intricate patterns on my toes. Faces, hearts, fireworks, animals: maybe I'm gradually covered head to toe.

Or maybe he only tells me to spread my legs so that he can touch his pen to the inside of my thighs. I'm turned onto my stomach.

Later on I check in the mirror to see "Mine" beautifully scripted across my ass cheek, and nestled close to my cunt.