Chapter Eight
The Studio of Akihito
“So where are we going James?”
“We’re visiting the studio of Akihito, a tattoo artist.”
“Am I getting a tattoo?”
“Yes, if you’d like.”
“That’s so exciting! I always wanted one, but my parents would never approve. What kind of tattoo am I getting?”
“You’ll see. We’re almost there.”
We arrive at the tattoo parlor and meet Akihito, a slender Japanese man in his early 40’s with long black hair and romantic eyes. His muscular forearms are vibrantly tattooed in a pattern of elegantly curving black lines.
“Is this the submissive you spoke of, Mr. Jefferson?” the artist asks.
“Yes. Her name is Grace,” James says.
“Welcome to my studio. My name is Akihito.”
“Hello,” I say.
The artist’s hands reach out to unbutton and slip my coat off my shoulders.
