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I had been going to Tattoo Rogue for years to get tattooes drawn onto my skin. I had tattooes everywhere on my body, like a canvas now painted. I was mad on them, I relished the pain and I relished the look of my skin, I hoped it covered all of me so I didn't have to see it.

My mother was totally against the first tattoo I ever had, especially because I was so young too. She was always worrying that I had some never lasting tattoo addiction and worried I'd regret them all one day in my life.

She'd go, "what if your wife doesn't like tattooes?" She didn't know I wouldn't be marrying any girl who didn't like me for me, tattooes and all.

In fact, I didn't even think I wanted to marry at all.  I liked women, hell, I loved women. I loved women in my apartment and on my bed for a few hours, and that was it. Never anything more, never anything less.

I had my own recommendation anyway in Tattoo Rogue, he was called Glenn and every single one of his designs were legit. He gave me discounts too.

I loved all of his work, he could draw pretty much anything given the chance. It was a talent and he was extremely talented. He was the owner of Tattoo Rogue and had tattooed every single design onto my skin since the first.

So you could imagine my surprise when Glenn came in one day to tell me he was training his daughter to take over the company when he was gone. He was training her to become one of the best tattoo artists in the country just like himself.

My brows rose to my hairline.

"Where are you going?" I had asked him. The man chuckled.

"No where, it's just in case I die."

And that was that. Glenn had a sense of humour. It was quite morbid really and you never could predict what would leave his mouth next. He was great company when I had to spend hours getting my sleeve done all in one go.  It cost a bomb too so I didn't expect him to complain. Luckily, he didn't.

But right now, I was here to get my new tattoo done. I had wanted a tattoo on my knuckle for a while now and I had booked my appointment a few weeks back with Glenn. I guess the dick wasn't going to give me one today but instead dump his daughter on to me instead.

"I didn't pay you for this." I asked for Glenn specifically. He was the only person I trusted.

"You haven't paid me at all yet." Glenn shot back. I slouched further in my chair.

"Come on, Glenn. You've been tattooing me for years, don't let me down." I pleaded as I shot out of my chair and made my way over the counter he was standing behind. I couldn't trust any other fucker with my skin and a tattoo needle. What if it turned out looking like shit?

Glenn had even tattooed me when I was underage. Of course, he would never do that now, but he did it for me years ago when I was sixteen. It took a hell of a lot of persuading.

I was now 28 and I was starting to think there was no where else to tattoo on my skin. The thought made me scowl.

"Don't try and make me feel guilty." He took his thick framed glasses off his nose and his highly tattooed arm came over the counter to punch me in the bicep. "Let my daughter practice on you. She's really good, if I must say." Pride shot through his eyes and I wanted to gag at his stupid fatherly love for his daughter.

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