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"How does it feel?" Tucker asked the eighteen year-old blonde girl in the chair, whose head was bent to stare down at the new silver barbell he'd just pierced through her nipple. He'd had to endure a long diatribe from her as she complained to her accompanying friend about how unfair her parents were about not paying for her to go to Europe for Spring Break.
"Great!" she enthused, smiling, running her finger over the barbell, jumping slightly at the tenderness of her skin.
"It looks awesome, Ashley," the girl's friend told her, gawking at her.
"Thanks, Tucker," the girl said. "My parents would so freak if they knew I did this!" she exclaimed. Tucker tried to hide his smirk. Girls like her were a dime a dozen, coming into the shop, looking for ways, besides silicone, to capture male attention by acting like bad girls and disobeying their parents.
"No problem," he replied, turning to clean up quickly. He hoped she'd leave, partially because he was afraid that their collectively low IQs would permanently stunt his intellectual development, but mostly so he could talk to Chris.
Tucker had come down to Daytona Beach six months ago, seeking a change of pace from his mundane routine. His friend Chris, a tattoo artist, had opened up a body piercing and tattoo shop called The Point, perfectly located in one of the more vibrant and youthful areas of the boardwalk. He'd invited Tucker to come down and visit, and he hadn't left since. Tucker found his haven here, letting himself break out of his shell and comfort zone.
In the first place, they mostly dealt with tourists, looking for a quick piercing or tattoo to shock people with upon returning home. Tucker had immediately discovered that the girls were all too eager to copulate with the man who'd just pierced them. It helped that he was attractive-- tall, broad-shouldered, with dark features and a smile women deemed "mysterious"-- but for the most part, the women who walked into the body shop seemed to be already aroused with the idea of having a needle probed into their skin. He was constantly surrounded by half-clad women who were more than willing to tip him extra.
They were no strangers to sexcapades at The Point. After all, they were a tattoo and piercing shop that also sold accessories and beach wear. Within the first few weeks, they had developed a man code, a way for them to easily communicate with each other if they were going to be "occupied" with a customer or "needed to take a break". Since they all did amazing work, Chris indulged them, particularly encouraging Tucker, whose sexuality had evolved rapidly into rampant overdrive.
The girls left Tucker's piercing booth, giggling hysterically. Finally, he thought as they paid and exited the place. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and both tattoo artists were occupied with customers in their creative offices, inking loudly. Chris was looking over some invoices at one of the piercing accessories counters.
"Where do you want to go tonight?" Chris asked as Tucker approached him.
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