Master's Tattoo

By MudrunnerNC
published January 27, 2009

Trevor a straight college jock is about to enter a new world of tattoos, leather and domination.

The new shop had opened in what had long been a vacant building just on the edge of the city near the only parking lot I could afford at the time. I had seen the transition of the once abandoned building into something that refurbished but still dark. It had a gothic façade that was exposed during renovation. From the side street I could not tell what type of business was opened so I decided to take a stroll even though I would be late again. My girlfriend has been on my ass; while she understands that this internship could land me a job when I graduate next year, she always expects me around. I’m amazed where I find time to keep up with my studies, basketball and of course her.

There are a few strobe lights that caught my attention making the window hazy and hard to focus on. I am jolted back to reality when a guy pats me hard on the back and holds my shoulder. I spin and gasp at first to catch my breath. The guy was wearing leather trooper pants and a short sleeve leather shirt that rode half way up his bicep. The beginnings of an intricate tribal tattoo shown ran up his right arm and continued under the leather. I can’t remember how long I stared, taking in all of the muscles that seemed ready to break out of their leather cocoon. A crooked smile with a glint of pure white teeth brought me back to reality.

I keep myself in shape, but this guy put me to shame. I’ve been playing ball since I was 2, ran track for a time, football and for the hell of it some water polo. Each muscle rippled and the tight uniform that he wore showed every detail. I wasn’t going to jump him after all I not gay, but you have to give credit where credit is due.

“My name is Damien. Just opened up shop tonight. Are you interested in a tattoo?” I was trying to pry my eyes away from him. “Nev…never given it much thought”, I stammered. I took in a large breath and caught the scent of leather and musk. Again he flashed the crooked smile.

I found myself following Damien into the shop as he corralled me and was almost knocked over by a more concentrated dose of leather and musk. I began to look over the various designs that were pictured all over the walls. There were so many men with so many tattoos. Some were covered from head to toe, others a little more subtle. There were no butterflies, no unicorns, no frilly designs…just designs a real man would have. I felt myself relaxing and taking in deep breaths and began to feel the heat building in my body.

Damien reached for a portfolio bound in the same leather that he wore. “These are my personal designs. Perhaps you might find something in here?” This was crazy. I have never been into tattoos. My parents had raised me to respect my body and never to change the way the good lord made you, but I found myself mesmerized by the designs inside. Damien could see the internal war taking place inside my head. Again I caught site of the crooked smile; it made my heart race. What the hell is going on.

Suddenly the spell was broken by the loud voice coming over my cell. My girl was bitching that I was over an hour late, without any call. She just kept saying, I know your there, answer me. I grabbed the phone and told her I had a flat and that AAA just finished the change. Sometimes you need to lie to calm her rage.

I went to return the portfolio to Damien, but he said I should keep it and return it another day. "There’s a website you can check out. It’s listed in the back if you want to see some more designs. I wouldn’t let your girl see it though. She seems a little controlling. It always amazes me the power we give over to the wrong people. Soon you end up blindly following orders. I always like to take charge, buck up and be a man. "

“Thanks. I’ll take a look through. Don’t get your hopes up though. I don’t think I could go through with it. My names Trevor by the way.” Why was I nervous and why was I giving him my name? This was just a weird experience. On my drive home I kept thinking of what it would feel like, what it would look like to have a tattoo. I pictured my arm looking like Damien’s.

My girlfriend was riled up when I got home. I must have said sorry about 100 times in between chomping down my meal and still the temper lived on. My saving grace was a new sleep medication her doctor had prescribed. It seemed pretty strong so she was out barely an hour after dinner. I wasn’t ready to go to sleep so I went out to the living room to catch some ESPN highlights. My work bag was beside the couch and I remembered the portfolio Damien had lent me. I pulled it out and reveled at the feel of the leather binding. I caught a hint of the musky scent from the shop and brought the portfolio up to my nose and took a deep breath. It was the same. I opened and started to flip through the pages, this time reaching the end too quickly. The last page had his website listed so I decided to take a look.

The site had links to designs and artwork. The tattoos were all up close shots of the arm or back or leg. There were also explanations for what different designs meant. I entered into the tribal tattoo section as they related most to Damien’s original designs and read about the history. That it was transformational and brought you closer through pain, permanence and loss of the life source (blood). There were symbols that identified which tribe you were affiliated with, great warrior symbols, and those that brought luck or cast spells. The most documented and understood of the magically charged tribal tattoos was for the purpose of love spells and charms. These tattoo magicians would mix special herbs and potent concoctions to their dyes and would apply the tattoo to a small, generally hidden area to activate the magic.

It was fascinating and I kept clicking through all of the galleries. It was then that I notice a new link on the page for a slideshow of Damien’s art. I clicked on the link and relaxed in my home office chair. There was music in the background and some voices that I could not make out. The slides contained pictures of designs up close at first and then changed to show large sections of the body. It began to show two pictures at a time cycling out and then transitioned into pictures with two guys showing off their body art. Other pictures started to flash between fades, but I could not identify what they were of before the next set of pictures came up.

I woke to the sound of my girlfriend waking me. I had fallen asleep at the computer. I jumped to attention to make sure the tattoo site was not still up, only to see recent scores on She gave a strange look and started complaining about her day. Normally I would tune her out…but her voice was like pulling fingernails across a chalkboard. My head was aching…maybe I should dump the bitch.

I arrived at the parking lot and found myself staring at the Tattoo Master’s Shop. I knew that I should get to work but I couldn’t compel my feet to move. I notice that there was a for rent sign hanging in the window above the shop and felt a jolt through my body. Maybe I should make a call and see what it would cost to rent. That would make the break up easy. I could just pack up my clothes and be out, then start over new again. I would be close to work and still get to campus easily. The sign didn’t have a number so it must be Damien that’s renting the space out.

I had sped through my work quickly today so it gave me some idle time. My mind seemed to be working with such clarity today. I ran things though my head again and again what I should do about breaking up/moving and decided I should go by the shop on my lunch break. Maybe he would be in.

So here I am, in my business suit walking into a tattoo parlor mid day. It wasn’t exactly business hours, but Damien looked like was hanging more of his work. The smell of leather and musk surrounded me as I entered. “Good to see you again Trev.” Everyone called me that on the basketball team so I didn’t give it a second thought. “You ready to go for a ride in my chair?”, he said tapping the leather seat. “N…No tattoo”, I said. Where was all this stammering coming from.

Damien gave that crooked smile again. “What can I help you with then? You can trust me. I am always a great friend.” His eyes were locked on mine and I nodded, paused lost in space somewhere and then came around enough to ask in he was renting the apartments upstairs. My voice sounded unfamiliar or distracted. I knew what I was saying but my focus was elsewhere…on him and his eyes and that amazing body. What the fuck is going on in my head.

We went upstairs and it was a small apartment, but already furnished. All I had to do was pack my suits and be out. Damien turned on the water and it splashed all over his black shirt. “You don’t mind…were all friends here,” as he slipped out of his shirt. I could now see the tattoo as it snaked up his arm, around his shoulder, onto his peck and down his back. It was amazing, twisting and turning with some focal points here and there that ended in spinning circles. The definition of his body, the perfect eight pack the bulging veins…everything was spinning like the circles and I could feel my body getting hot again. I blanked out for I don’t know how long.

I looked down and suddenly realized I had a pen in my hand and I was signing the lease for the apartment upstairs. It looked to be a fair price…less that what I paid for my share with….with…Katie my uh friend. I called back to work and said that I must have had something bad for lunch and I would need today and tomorrow off.

This is the first installment. My plan is to get into the hard sex soon. Please leave comments to let me know what you think and how I should take it from here.

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