Page 46 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

Atlas steps forward, and I start thrashing again, kicking and squirming, but it’s no use. He pins me down with one hand, his grip iron-tight on my chest, while using the lights and garland to tie my legs together and my hands to my sides. Key steps forward with the machined needle, the whirring sound grows louder, filling my ears.

“You’re gonna love your new additions, Jason,” Key says, his grin almost splitting his face. “Ladies love tattoos after all.”

“What?! No!” I shout, my voice cracking.

Teddy rolls his eyes. “Well, maybe not this sort of ink.”

Atlas just smirks, looming over me with a boot on my chest.

“God, I’m so glad I bring this thing everywhere I go.” Key sighs while lovingly stroking the instrument of my doom in his hand. “Never used it for something like this though!” He winks at me.

Key crouches down, his grin wide and unnerving, the tattoo needle buzzing ominously in his gloved hand. “Alright, Jason, hold still. I mean, not that it matters if you squirm–just makes it more interesting for me.”

“Stop! Please, I beg you!” I thrash harder, but Atlas leans down, pressing more weight on his boot planted squarely on my chest. The garland and lights dig into my skin, and I can’t move.

“Jason,” Teddy drawls from the armchair, spinning a cookie cutter idly between his fingers. “You should save your energy. You may not be a fan of this part, but I promise–this is the easy bit.”

Key laughs, giving the machine a test buzz. “Yeah, let’s get started, big guy.” He shifts his position, kneeling over me with a gleam in his eye. “First up, your belly. Gotta give you a nice, bold message for anyone who sees you shirtless.”

“What?!” I choke out, twisting as much as I can. “No, no, no-”

“Relax, Jason,” Key cuts in, his tone mockingly gentle as he tilts the buzzing needle closer and wrenches my shirt up. “You want to be an honest man from now on, don’t you?”

“I promise I’ll-” The moment the needle touches my skin, the words dissolve into a shout. The sharp, stinging pain slices through me as Key begins his work, his grin never faltering.

“You’re lucky I have such good handwriting,” Key quips, pausing to wipe away the blood and ink. “Otherwise, this would look like a ransom note.”

The others chuckle darkly, but my vision threatens to swim with tears. “Stop! Please, I’ll do anything–just stop!”

Teddy leans back, his legs crossed casually. “Should’ve thought about that before you decided to treat Grace like a piece of shit, Jason. Actions have consequences.”

Atlas nods in agreement, his foot firm on my chest as Key finishes the last stroke of the tattoo. The machine finally goes silent, leaving a dull ache across my stomach. Key sits back, admiring his work.

“Beautiful,” he says, wiping the area clean. “I thinkcheaterlooks real classy in bold, Old English style, don’t you?”

The others nod in approval, and I can’t even look down to see the damage. I know it’s there, scarring my skin and branding me with a truth that hurts.

“Now for part two,” Atlas states simply. When I hear the buzz of the machine again, my stomach drops.

“Don’t worry, Jason,” Key says gleefully, moving lower down my body. “We’re just adding some flare.”

“Please, no!” I sob, shaking my head violently. “Not there! Anywhere but there!”

“Oh, definitely there,” Key sings gleefully as he pulls down my pants and boxers in one swift movement. “A couple of decorative touches, you might say. Really makes the wholepackageunforgettable.”

Key exaggeratedly gags as he grabs my junk in one hand and stretches the skin between his fingers, before pressing the needle down with his other hand. The pain is sharp and immediate as it stabs into the soft flesh of my cock, and I can’t stop the scream that rips from my throat. The humiliation burns worse than the sting of the tattoo. I thrash helplessly, but it only makes the process longer.

“Hold still, drama queen. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Key tuts, like he’s reprimanding a small child, before humming and continuing his work.

It’s agonizing, it’s downright violating, and it lasts for what feels like forever. I cry, I scream. But he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied.

Key finishes his work with a flourish, wiping the area clean. “Done! Now he’s got something to show off at every holiday party. Sit him up, Atlas. Let him see the magic.”

Removing his foot off my chest, Atlas kneels down and grabs me by the hair. Yanking me up into a semi-seated position, he forces my gaze down. There, in a disgusting pattern that’s forever inked into the skin of my dick, is a collection of very lifelike, oozing warts from the head of my extremely deflated dick to the base.

“Step three,” Atlas says, pulling up my pants and flipping me roughly onto my stomach without giving me a second to relax or process what just happened.

My body aches, every muscle screaming in protest as Atlas lifts my shirt from where it fell when he sat me up. Leaving my bare stomach pressed to the floor, the cold surface against the cheater tattoo is a cruel contrast to the searing pain, and almost a bit of relief to the agony; if it didn’t remind me of its existence.

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