"Hold it open for the man."
She tried to do as he said. She held her lower lip open and exposed.
"Good, that's better." He turned to the man sitting in front of the woman and handed him a piece of paper. "This is what I want." A crooked smile flashed across the tattooist's face and he chuckled.
"Sure mister. But you know that inner lip tattoos don't always fade after a year or two. Most do, but this one's gonna be part of her from now on. This is serious shit."
"That's exactly what we want. Can you do it, just like that?" the man in the suit asked.
"Oh yeah, but it's going hurt like hell. This is a sensitive spot." The tattooist -- he liked to think of himself as an artist -- glanced back and forth from the slip of paper to the inside of the lower lip the woman was still holding open for him. She hadn't said anything since they'd been escorted into this back room of the tattoo parlor in a seedy part of the city.
"I know. And don't worry about anything hurting like hell. She kind of likes it that way." The smile returned to the face at this information. He taped the slip of paper to a lamp that hung over the woman's head and began readying the equipment.
The man in the suit leaned over to the woman and spoke quietly to her. "This is for us, you know. We want you marked. We want to know that whenever someone looks in that secret place, they'll know all about what you are. Of course it's going to hurt -- he said it would. But you'll take it. You always do."