The girl was fastened down, straps at her waist, across her upper chest and legs. Her hands strapped to the side of the reclining chair. Out of the way.

Verity Hart, just nine years old, was naked. Her legs were clamped together by straps and her small bare slit showed. Her mother reached out and touched it, making the girl flinch.

Lorna Hart smiled and Verity bravely smiled back.

'I'll treat it to a few kisses later,' said the woman at the side of the secured girl.

Verity nodded and even gasped as her mother's long fingernail scarped lightly on her small clit.

'Soon be over, sweetheart,' smiled Lorna. She stroked the girl's slit again and moved her hand above it to the flat belly of the girl just above her slight mound. 'Just here, Verity.'

Lorna gently pressed just above the top of Verity's slit. 'Right here.'

Verity shivered. 'Okay, but I don't know why I have to be... you know.' She gave a small tug on her wrist straps, making the leather creak slightly.

'You're just strapped down,' said the man with the electrical device in his hand from where he sat by the child's side on the opposite side to the mother. 'So's you don't try to kick me or knock my hand away when I start.' He held the tattoo tool up as if to explain.

'I won't,' said the girl, eying the gray metal and black plastic gun in his hand. The red ink reservoir seemed sinister. The needles looked sharp, catching the light.

'But you might,' said the mother. 'It's better this way. Soon as it's done it's over, like we discussed.'

Verity glanced up at the mirror angled above herself, so she could see her small, pale body and the black leather straps pinning her down. Helpless.

'I don't want her screaming in my ear,' said the tattooist as he made a small adjustment to his tattoo machine. His bare arms, muscular, were decorated with tigers and dragons and flames. A lot of red and yellow, and a blue rose with words in a scroll.

"Love forever" it said, in red.

'I promise I won't scream,' said the girl, her eyes big as she looked from the man to her mother. Pleadingly.

'You just might,' said Lorna as she reached up and stroked Verity's soft, long hair. 'So I brought your favorite gag,' she said kindly. 'To help you.'

'Uh, Mom, please -' the girl began.

'Hush, sweetheart. Remember I love you,' said Lorna, noticing her daughter's eyes were glistening wet in the corners. 'I wouldn't do this if I didn't love you.'

Verity gulped as her mom turned away to get something from her purse. She looked at the walls of the tattoo parlor, at the pictures. Photos of men and women with big drawings on their backs, women with their breasts naked and tattoos of flowers or snakes interweaving between their tits. A woman with her bare pussy spread, blue stars tumbling down her inside legs from her gaping cunny.

Pictures of girls like Verity, strapped down - or simply bound - all with some tattoos on their young skin. Pictures and slogans like "Mommy's Slut" and "Kiddy Slave" Girls gagged, their faces wet from crying. A young girl, her back decorated with whips and a "Beat Me Please" slogan.

A portrait of a gagged child, no more than seven, with thin, arched eyebrows and big, black outlined eyes. Permanent mascara. Stretched lips outlined in dark red.

One older girl with targets on her small breasts, centered on her nipples. Another one lying on her face, ass up. Her cute butt had a message tattooed on: "Fuck here" it said. And red marks, either from some caning or just red tattoo stripes.

The strapped-down girl swallowed again and managed to ask: 'How big will it be, my tattoo?'

'This big,' said the woman as she turned back, finger and thumb indicating about a half inch, for her daughter to see.

'Bigger' grunted the man. 'You want a tear-drop from it, don't you?'

The woman nodded. She opened her finger and thumb a little wider. 'Guess it has to be obvious,' she said. 'Like mine.'

Lorna dropped her free hand and pulled open her coat. With no skirt on, no panties, her shaved sex was visible below the lace edge of her black garter belt. That was where the tattoo was, a small heart and teardrop shape, the drop descending towards her sex. 'Mine's here,' said the mother, fingertip brushing the obvious red shape. The woman sounded proud.

'What will it mean, my tattoo?' asked Verity as she watched her mom hold up the ball gag.

'What I told you, sweetheart. To show we are loved by Mistress. She loves us, and I love you, darling.' The woman held the gag, red rubber gleaming, over her daughter's face. 'That's why you'll be tattooed like me.'

The man with the body-covering tattoos watched as the mother leant over her child, kissed her tenderly, and then slipped the ball gag into the girl's open mouth. He waited until the child had lifted her head so the mother could fasten the ball gag tight. He waited while the mother kissed the girl's gagged lips, tenderly. Then he began.

Verity screamed into her gag as the needles pierced her. Above her Lorna, coat open, was fingering herself as she watched her daughter's lower belly being tattooed with a red heart. Beneath it, a teardrop of red descending towards the child's delicate slit.

The sign of love, as decreed by the Mistress. The Mistress who owned them both.

A gentle shape, like a modified figure 8, to show anyone who knew that the mother and the daughter loved their Mistress so much they were willing to be used and punished and tortured. And who wouldn't want to use little Verity like this?

Heartdroppingly beautiful, sex-heatingly vulnerable as she wept because of pain and love.