14 of 100 - Spinning Images

“Why don’t you grab that black chair over there and sit while we do this. It’ll take a while.” Mike directed Markie without looking around at her. She stood for a moment or two more and then moved over to the chair near the room’s opening. It was a low-slung fabric chair – large and round with three or four small pillows scattered on it. Markie lowered herself into the fabric, glad for the protection of her own clothes to keep her skin away from the cloth of the chair.

“So, Markie, you want to get inked today too? I’ll give you girls a two for one special if you do.” He finished cleaning Toni’s skin and looked at the drawing again before beginning to transfer the design. “This should be bigger you know,” he said. “Hold on while I blow it up.” Mike rolled his chair over to a paper-strewn desk and laid the drawing on the copier sitting on the corner. In a moment, he wheeled his chair back over with the enlarged drawing.

“I don’t know,” Toni answered. “What do you think Markie?” Toni looked over from the table, raising her head to catch Markie’s eye. Before Markie could answer, Mike laid his hand on Toni’s forehead, pushed it back to the table and interrupted. “Hey sweet cheeks, I’m the artist here. I know this is what you want.” He moved both hands down to the prepared area and began the process of transferring the enlarged design to Toni’s skin.

Markie watched him control the girl on the table and shuddered slightly. Not sure how it had happened, she realized he was undeniably in charge of everything in the room, including herself. Markie suddenly imagined Toni, stripped completely nude, her large breasts exposed to the harsh brightness of the room, restrained and immovable. It was almost as if she could see wide leather restraints holding her friend’s wrists and ankles and a large band across her forehead, anchoring her solidly to the table. The image passed as quickly as it had appeared in Markie’s mind, and she closed her eyes and shook her head as if to clear the horror of the illusion.

When she opened them, Mike had wheeled his chair around the table, and he now faced her over Toni’s prepared pubic area. She wondered how he had moved so quickly and silently, and the room began to feel hot and little floaters of silver light darted across her vision. Putting her head in her hands, she reclosed her eyes and held herself still.

“What’s the matter over there?” Mike asked. Markie braced herself and looked up again. He was looking at her, and she quickly shifted her gaze down to Toni’s prone form.

“Nothing. Just drank a little too much last night. Just resting my eyes.” Markie lied and hoped she sounded more solid and sure than she felt. She picked up the magazine lying on the table next to the chair; it was some trade magazine with a woman, naked except for the ink covering most of her body, lying across the hood of a red Dodge Viper. The designs on her body were all done in the earthy tones of greens, browns, and grays, so the contrast between the hard, bright, red of the car and the soft tones of the young woman’s inked flesh jarred her senses. Markie threw the magazine back on the table and turned to watch Mike etch the hearts into Toni, hoping to regain control of her spinning thoughts.