Ned's heart pounded in his chest as Atara's request hung in the air between them, heavy with anticipation. His gaze flickered down to the exposed swell of her bazongas, their tantalizing curves beckoning him like a siren's call. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the primal urge to press, while scribbling his wild oath on her tits.
With a steady hand, Ned reached for the pen she offered, the tips of his fingers brushing against that soft, warm flesh of hers. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a flicker of desire that burned hot within him. He met her eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and longing in them.
"Of course, Atara," he murmured, his voice husky with restrained desire, but his smile still dirty and degenerate. "I'd be honored to leave my mark on you."
With deft strokes, Ned began to write his name across the creamy expanse of her skin, the black ink stark against her pale skin. Each brush of the pen sent a pulse of electricity through him, setting his blood on fire. He traced each letter with care, the sensation of his touch sending a wave of heat through Atara's body.
As he finished, Ned leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers as he whispered, "You are truly remarkable, Atara. And now that you bear my mark, you are a force to be reckoned with."
Atara's eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she felt the weight of his words wash over her. The heat between them crackled like lightning, a potent mix of desire and connection that threatened to consume them both.
With a small smile, Atara opened her eyes, meeting Ned's gaze with a knowing look. "Thank you, Ned," she said softly. "For everything." And quickly hurried to join the others.
___
The ladies' changing room exuded feminine energy with soft lighting and the scent of lavender. Mirrored walls reflected a diverse group of exposed tits and booties. Rows of lockers adorned with colorful stickers added a personal touch. Laughter and chatter filled the air as the group were in the middle of changing into their trainers.
As they stood there, in all that was naked and unholy, Ursula noticed something peculiar on Atara's boobs. She leaned in suspiciously to take a peak.
Then a gasp escaped her lips as she saw the autograph proudly displayed across Atara's chest. The sound of her shock was loud enough to call the other's attention to the peculiar signature on Atara's chest.
Intrigued, they gathered around her, their boobs brushing against each other in a show of curiosity. Atara blushed, feeling a rush of heat spread through her body as their eyes lingered on the autograph. "When did you get that?" Ursula asked, her voice filled with surprise and suspicion.
"Yes, tell us where you got that." Zeta chimed in. Also wondering when Atara had even left their sight, and where she had ventured off to without telling them.
The others shared the same puzzled thought.
With a coy smile, Atara confessed, "Well, I asked Ned for his autograph, and he had given it to me right there." She gesture at her right tit.
"Damn traitor!" Ursula yelled, a look of jealousy in her eyes. The others had the same look of disdain on their faces. Atara's confession only seemed to have intensified the intrigue and jealousy among them.
"C'mon, he is the infamous Ned Wyatt. I... I couldn't help it." Atara screamed on the verge of tears. The sight of her boobs heaving only made Ned's signature look more breathtaking on them.
"You think we don't want that? We could have asked together, but you had to go ahead and do it behind our backs." Raine chimed in, looking like a bundle of shattered dreams and broken promises.
___
Ned leaned against the wall of the training room, mind drifting to his next meal, when the door burst open. Six women poured in like a flood of perfume and tight-fitting sex on wheels. Before he could blink, they swarmed around him, pressing close enough that he could count their collective eyelashes.
"Shit," Ned thought, swallowing hard. Their faces were flushed, eyes wide and gleaming. He felt like a mouse cornered by particularly attractive cats.
"Why'd you sign Atara's chest and not ours?" demanded a curvy looking Ursula, lips quivering.
"Yeah!" chimed in Paige. "Don't we matter to you?"
The others joined in, a chorus of wounded egos and pouty expressions. Ned's brain short-circuited, overwhelmed by the barrage of cleavages and accusations.
"I, uh..." he stammered, searching for an escape route. Sure, he'd always dreamed of a time when girls would swam all over him like flies on shit. But, this felt different, forced in some way he didn't like. Finding no plausible escape route, he blurted out, "She asked!"
Wrong answer. The dam broke, and suddenly six pairs of boobs were thrusted towards him, bustiers pulled apart.
"Sign mine!"
"No, do mine first!"
"I've got larger boobs!"
"I've got the smoothest skin!"
They cooed and wheedled, sounding more like oversized infants than grown women. Ned's hand twitched towards the pen in his pocket, mind racing.
'This is insane,' he thought. "What's next, they'll want me to autograph their butts?"
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he banished it. He'd love to do that, but he was a sucker for foreplay. There was no fun in signing butts or boobs without it, hinting towards delightful advances. Best not give them ideas.
With a resigned sigh, Ned uncapped his pen. "Alright, alright. Form a line, yeah?"
In a blink, they jostled for position, giggling and shoving, Ned couldn't help but wonder how his life had come to this. He'd scrawl his name across just one booby and six others appear in its place. 'Even the hydra blurs in comparison'.
Ned gripped his pen like a blade, eyeing the queue of eager women. "Right," he muttered, "let's get this farce over with."
First up was Zeta, all tits and expectation. She thrust them in his face, trembling like a virgin on her wedding night. Ned scrawled his name, the pen digging into her soft flesh. She gasped, eyes rolling back as if he'd given her more than just ink.
"Fuckin' hell," Ned thought, moving to the next.
Ursula stepped forward, tits built like a brick shithouse and twice as sturdy. She flexed them, grinning like a wolf. "Make it good, pretty boy." Ned obliged, his signature looking like chicken scratch on her muscle-bound nipple holsters. She nodded, satisfied, and stomped away.
Third was Tinsley, skinny as a rake and shaking like leaves in a storm. "I-I've never done this before," she stammered. Ned resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's a signature, not a blood oath," he grumbled, quickly marking her pale boobs that looked like they could barely be supported by her petite frame.
Paige bounced up next, literally bounced. Her... assets jiggled with each excited hop. "Oh Ned, I've dreamed of this!" He doubted that, but signed anyway, trying not to notice how his hand brushed against them. She squealed and pranced away, leaving Ned slightly dazed.
The fifth, Raine, approached like a prowling cat. "I want it somewhere... special," she purred, then turned and pushed her booty forward. Ned's mouth went dry. "Boobs or nothing," he croaked, yanking her tits forward and scribbling hastily. She pouted but didn't argue. If anything, the imprint of his fingers, left on them made her swoon.
Last was Atara, the cause of this mess. She smirked, offering her other boob. "Thought I'd complete the set."
Ned glared but complied, his pen nearly tearing through her skin. After all, Atara's was the only one that felt special, giving the moment.
As the women admired their new "tattoos," giggling and comparing, Ned slumped against the wall, suffering from a hamstring in the groin.
'Good things really do follow great people even in back times.' he thought silently, eyeing his team of flamboyant goddesses. 'I'll just have to time it right next time.'
***