Traci was, for lack of a better word, shy. Extremely shy as a matter of fact. She was afraid to talk to anybody. She had very few friends, mostly because other girls hated her. She was 5'5", weighed 95lbs, and had 36DD breast, for that they hated her. The guys loved her natural blonde hair, but since she never dated, no one knew if she was a real blonde at all. She graduated right after her 17th birthday. Started college in the summer and graduated college with a teaching degree right after her 20th birthday. Her own high school, desperate for teachers offered her job immediately. She accepted and this is where her story starts.
The young teacher drew in a deep breath. "I promised myself when I got a real job I would finally get a tattoo," she thought. She always wanted a small heart shaped tattoo on her upper thigh and today she was going to get it.
She choose Thursday night because she was certain none of her students would be around to catch her going into the tattoo parlor. The parlor, "Sam's Place", was out of the way in the back part of town. It had a real dirty feel that she hated, but she knew there was no chance of anyone she knew coming by and seeing her.
"I need a tattoo please," she asked the rough biker looking tattoo artist as she walked in.
"Sorry honey, you must be at least 18 to get a tattoo." He said.
"I am 20 years old sir," she said rather insulted. She has looked 16 ever since she hit the age. Since she looked so young, men her age thought she was to young to hit on and she was never asked out.
"Sweety I'm gonna have to see some ID," he said. "Or your gonna have to leave."
She handed him her ID. He took it. Scratched it with his finger, and then looked her up and down.
"Well shit sweet cheeks, I would have guessed you was 16 at best," He said reflecting his county.
"Look at the wall honey and decided what you want, but its gonna have to be quick because I have several appoints in an hour."
"I know what I want," she said, "A little heart right here on my thigh." She pointed to her point where her right leg and thigh came together. She liked that area because she thought she could hide her tattoo even when she wore a bikini.
"Alright honey, follow me," he ordered, "and take off your pants."
"Why do I have to take off my pants, can't I just pull the side down a little?"
"Shit, I go through this every time with you little girls." He was noticeable annoyed and she could tell if she put up an more argument, he would tell her to forget the tattoo.
"It was just a question," she snapped, trying to hid her embarrassment.
"I can do this," she thought, "it will be just like going to the beach."
They both passed through the curtains, she turned and tried to pull them completely shut, but they still left a little crack open.
"This won't close all the way," she said.
"It's not supposed to, " he snapped, "now take your pants off and get in the chair!"
She did not like being told what to do, but she figured she had little choice. Turing around she starts to unbutton her pants. When she is about to take them off she looks around to see if the biker is looking at her, but he isn't.
When the pants are off she immediately covers her crotch with her hands.
The biker looks back and laughs, "Honey, where do you want me to put that tattoo?"
She points and as she does she realizes her panties cover that area.
"I could just pull them up," she says.
"Honey, I can see you are more than a little shy," he chuckles," you can have this paper gown and tear a little hole where you want your tattoo"
"But I will be completely naked under that thing!"
"Your completely naked under your panties, what's the difference," he asks.
His tone makes her feel like a childish prude. She hates it when people make her feel that way. This tattoo was supposed to be a big statement in feeling more out going and wild. So far it has just been an exercise in humility.
With new resolve she says, "Alright give me the dam gown."
He hands her the paper gown and chuckles at her new found resolve. She puts its on and then carefully takes off her panties.
He snatches them out of her hand and throws them to the other side of room.
"Lets get your pretty ass up on the chair," he says and slaps her on the ass
Just then she realizes her ass is totally exposed.
Quickly she jumps on the chair and tries to forget about the slap.
"Alright, lets get you buckled in," he says. He pulls out to stir-ups and starts to put her left leg in one.
"What are you doing," she yelps.
"Sweet cheeks," he explains, "I don't want to get kicked in the face, I don't want you to jerk and make me ruin you pretty little thigh, and I don't want you moving around and affecting my work area. Read the signs before you come in this place."
With that she look above the curtain to front of the store where it reads backwards, "All clients will be properly restrained."
"Sorry I didn't know," she says.
With that he puts her right leg in the stir-up. Quickly she pushes the center of the paper gown down to cover her pussy.
"Your gonna be too much trouble aren't you," he exclaims.
"No I promise," she wines.
"Listens, I have to touch you on your thigh. I have work six to three inches from your pussy. Either get used to that fact or we're done now."
The admonishing worked.
"I promise you won't hear me complain," she says.
"Fine, or else where done," he smiles as he straps her left leg in the stir-up. He has seen girls like her before. He knew a stern voice kept them in line. In cases like these, he knew this girl would twist and turn and mess up his work. For that, he might have to bring out more straps.
"Where do you want your tat," he asks as he finishes strapping the right leg.
"Oh, I am sorry I forgot to tear at the spot I wanted."
"Allow me," he said as he beat her to the punch and tore open a hole that was a little too big for her liking. The tear showed a bit too much of her thigh, but luckily none of her pubic hair.
"Lets get started, and remember don't move or you'll fuck me up." With that he started the needle up. Traci immediately got nervous.
"Sam, Sir, is this going to hurt," she asked
"Just a little," he said, "just try not to move or I'll have to strap you down in the name of my art."
