Ugh, this is so typical. I finally agree to test out some new "tattoo portal" – it sounds intriguing, right? Teleport my ass over the internet for some ink? Sure, why not. I've always wanted an ass tattoo and it can be so hard to find the time to get to a studio. But the second my glorious backside materializes on the other side, all bets are off. I discovered this wasn't about art at all. Before I can even get a hello out, hands are all over me. Spanking? Squeezing? Okay, a little unexpected, but then… oh god. Rimming. Licking. Tasting. It was… intense. And surprisingly… not entirely unpleasant at first, I'll admit. The tattoo artist definitely had enthusiasm. Then the fingers started probing. My asshole. That's when the "testing the portal" vibe completely evaporated. I started to struggle, trying to pull away, but the connection was locked. Trapped. Fantastic. Next thing I know, there's a strap-on involved. Worshiping my ass? Stretching it? This was escalating way beyond a simple tattoo. I tried to fight it, I really did. But well, let's just say the sensations were… distracting. And yeah, okay, maybe there was a little something happening down front that I wasn't entirely in control of. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of being thoroughly used, I was unceremoniously sent back through the portal, my rear end getting one last, rather firm, smack for good measure. Worst part of all of this though, is that after the shock wore off, I realized I didn’t even get my tattoo!
