Work Text:
All it was was a simple smiley face, at first. You felt a thrill at the stack of needles pattering on your skin, driving ink into the spots between the cracks of your skin. It was like you were drunk, and the drink was a sweet Amontillado that drove you deeper and deeper into the dark cellar and catacombs of the shops.
You became personally close to the tattoo artist who had done your first tattoo, he was a bit peculiar but was more endearing than alarming and you quickly saw him as more than a friend. He started encouraging larger tattoos, covering more patches of your skin and was even designing a majority of them now.
The ink stretched across the canvas of skin and laced across the once-bare spots of skin. Once the entirety of your back was tatted and a collar with chain ribbons was inked across your neck, you finally noticed his name on your skin when asked about the tattoos at the beach.
You had loved showing them off, the thrill of turning people's eyes - not only because of your scandalous suit, barely covering anything, but also the flaunting of the bright images and dark contrasts that littered you from your toes to your throat. It was a friend who first asked you about who your tattoo artist was - not as a tattoo artist though, they had asked you who his Name was. You never even mentioned to them that your tattoo artist was a guy, let alone his name.
And so you ask how they knew that name.
"Well. It's spelled out on your back." Your blood ran cold. You rushed them to take a photograph of the tattoos and when seeing it, they were right. There was his name. clear as day amongst the ink and flesh. On the back of the decorative collar was even the word "property" swirled and slightly obscured by the lace that decorated the false clasp of the tattoo.
He had... branded you. He had marked you as his property and smiled at you and looked you in the eyes with you none the wiser. You quickly gathered your things at that moment and rushed out of the sand and sun you were just playing under. There was a particular artist you had to visit, after all, and your body hummed with excitement. You didn't want to keep your owner waiting.