Joes Tattoo Part 1

Author: SkinJameser
Title: Joe's Tattoo
Date: 08 March 2009

Hi! This is my first attempt at an erotic story. Hope you enjoy! :-)

Joe’s Tattoo

Part one

Joe stumbled through the doors of the busy pub out into the cool Amsterdam night air. Stifling a burp he reached into his jacket, found his pack of cigarettes and lit one. Sucking deeply he replaced the almost empty pack and rubbed his free hand over his short hair. He was drunk and he knew it.

He and his three mates had come over from the UK to celebrate his 18th birthday, and by the second night he was truly done in. He tried focusing on the building in front of him and felt his balance go. Jerkily recovering he took another deep inhale of smoke and let it out slowly, trying to persuade himself that he wasn’t that far gone. He hoped that the cigarette might help, but didn’t believe it. His mates, all older than him, were coping far better on this trip than he was. He was already getting a slagging from them for throwing up in their dingy hostel room the night before. They all got on well enough, but they took every opportunity to remind him how young he was, the baby of the group, which pissed him off.

Which is why he made the most important decision of his life that night. Not that he knew it yet.

He’d been talking to a local lad in the bar who had the most amazing tattoo that Joe had ever seen. The guy, whose name Joe had already forgotten thanks to the beer, had a dragon starting on his right hand which went all the way up to his chest. The guy had been happy to show Joe his tattoo and talk about it. By the time the conversation was over one thought burned through Joe’s sozzled brain: he was getting a tattoo before the trip was over.

He’d asked the guy where he’d got it done. Apparently the place was close to the bar, and he’d given him directions. Joe hadn’t mentioned this to his mates, he wanted it to be a surprise. Maybe that way they’d accept him as an equal.

So, stumbling slightly, sucking deeply on his cigarette, he headed off in the direction of the harbour.

It was late, about 11PM, but the guy in the bar said that the tattoo parlour was open late at the weekend. Joe knew he was legally too young to get one done, but thought that he could blag it. Despite turning 18 the day before he could pass for early twenties, as many of the women he’d bedded would testify. His body, while still lean with youth, could also be passed for gym fit.

By his second cigarette he’d found the alley where the tattoo parlour was meant to be. It looked dark and deserted, had he not been drunk he might have been nervous. However he walked down it until he spotted a dim red glow shining out onto the narrow lane. It turned out to be the place; the dirty window had an old neon tube displaying the word “Tattoos”, and there were faded and curled pictures of the artist’s work scattered on the windowsill. His stomach churning with anticipation, he took a last drag of the cigarette, flung it into the alley and, trying to appear sober, opened the door and went in.

The inside of the tattoo parlour was not much better looking than the outside. The front door led to a grubby waiting room, with photos and sketches of tattoos lining the walls. A battered looking door at the opposite end led into the rest of the shop but was closed. No-one appeared to be about. Joe walked up to nearest wall and looked at the pictures. He hadn’t really thought about what to have done. Getting the tattoo was the important part.

He worked as a labourer in the building industry so his bosses wouldn’t be too bothered about him having a tattoo, but he reckoned for his first it should be able to be covered by a jacket at least. He looked at the pictures, and noticed that his cock was shifting slightly in his jeans. Absent-mindedly he repositioned it with his hand, and jumped when the inner door suddenly burst open.

Joe whipped his head around to see a tall man covered in tattoos come through. Obviously he was the tattooist; he must have been mid-thirties, with shaved hair. He was big, he had muscles everywhere. Joe gulped a little, suddenly afraid that he’d be chucked out of the parlour for being a stupid little kid.

“How’s it going mate?” asked the man. Joe relaxed a little, he seemed friendly enough. His accent was unmistakably Dutch, although he seemed to speak perfect English, which was a relief to Joe as he had worried a little about the language barrier.

“So you after a tattoo then?” he smiled. “Name’s Peter by the way.” Peter thrust a huge hand at Joe, who took it and shook it timidly.

“I’m Joe,” he said, “yeah, was thinking about getting one.”

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” beamed Peter. “You’re Scottish, yeah?”

“Yeah, from Edinburgh” said Joe, relaxing a little now that it looked like he wasn’t about to be flung out of the place. “On a holiday with some mates.”

“And you thought you’d get a tattoo? Pretty cool, where’s your mates?”

“In the bar,” said Joe, then instantly regretted saying it. What if the guy chucked him out for being drunk?

“Ah, wanting to show them what you’re made of then?” said Peter with a knowing grin. “Well, we better make it a good one then. Any idea of what you’re after?”

“Not really,” said Joe, “I saw a guy with a great dragon on his arm, maybe something like that...”

“Yeah, I do a lot of dragons, very popular” replied Peter. “Where about you thinking of getting it done? Full body suit?!” he grinned again.

Joe felt his cock twitch again, and blushed. “Erm, not right away” he managed. “Maybe on my arm, over my bicep?”

“Oh, if you want a dragon tattoo then it should be the entire arm!” exclaimed Peter.

Joe’s eyes bulged, “Er, not to begin with” he said. “Maybe I could get something that could be added to later?”

Peter’s smile flickered a little. “Well, let’s see what we can do for you then.” He walked over to the windowsill and found a leather-clad book, full of pictures of dragons. “Have a look through this and see if you get any ideas. Whilst you’re doing that I’ll take a picture of you on my mobile.” Peter saw Joe’s confused expression. “Just to get an idea of what size will work,” he explained. “Take your top off for a second will you?”

Joe hesitated, but again the beer in him told him not to worry, so he shrugged his jacket off, pulling his t-shirt off too. Peter smiled a little, took a phone out of his pocket, and took a couple pictures of the young lad. “Excellent, now I know what I have to work with! You take a look through those pics and I’ll be back in a minute.” Saying that Peter walked back through the door, closing it behind him.

Joe put his t-shirt back on, slumped onto the bench and started leafing through the book. There were several tattoos that he liked and thought might be suitable. His head began to swim, both from the beer and the thought that he was about to get tattooed.

Eventually he decided on one, a fierce looking dragon similar to the one the guy he’d met at the bar had, but much smaller. If the tattooing wasn’t too painful he reckoned he could add to it another time.

He looked up as he thought he heard Peter talking in the room beyond. A few minutes later Peter opened the door and came through.

“So you made a choice then, lad?” asked Peter.

“Yeah, I’d like this one” Joe passed the book back over to Peter, pointing at a picture.

“Ah yeah, that’ll look good on ya. It’ll take a good couple hours to do. I should be closing soon, but I don’t mind staying late for a lad’s first tattoo!” again he grinned widely. “Give me a couple minutes to set everything up back there. I’ll just shut the shop, save us getting interrupted.” He started to walk over to the front door, but Joe stopped him.

“Er, I was going to grab a quick smoke?” he stammered.

“No problem, just have it in here, guess we won’t be getting busted tonight,” he replied, locking the front door and switching off the buzzing neon sign.

“Okay,” said Joe, lighting up as Peter disappeared through the door again. Joe was a mess of nerves, the beer and the adrenalin making him feel a little shaky. By the time he’d finished the cigarette Peter came back in, and beckoned him through.

The interior room was as dingy as the rest of the shop and was dominated by what looked like an old dentist chair complete with arm rests and padded headrest. Joe gulped again.

“Time to strip again,” said Peter. Joe took his t-shirt off and dumped it with his jacket beside the chair. “Hop on.”

Joe got himself onto the chair, shivering a little as the cold PVC hit his naked back. Peter disappeared behind him for a moment, then came back with several canvas straps.

“As this is your first time, and I reckon you might’ve had a drink or two,” at this Peter smiled knowingly, “I’ll need to put these on you. Just to make sure you don’t move and wreck the tattoo.”

Joe’s eyes widened again, but he was so relieved that Peter hadn’t thrown him out for being drunk he didn’t complain when the tattooist pulled his left arm onto the arm rest and slipped the belt around, cinching it tightly. He added another belt to his bicep, before doing the same to his right arm. Joe experimented moving his arms, but they were stuck fast. He grinned nervously while his cock twitched again.

“Just two more things to add,” Peter said, again moving from Joe’s field of vision. Suddenly he grabbed Joe’s head from behind and held it down tightly to the headrest. Before Joe could react he added another strap, this time around the boy’s forehead, fastening him to the chair. Joe opened his mouth to complain, but just as he did Peter rammed a huge ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his neck.

“Hmmph?!” Joe managed, struggling uselessly in his bonds.

Peter moved into Joe’s vision, and grinned evilly. “What, you didn’t think it was strange that a reputable tattoo artist would tattoo a drunk and probably under-age kid kid?”

Joe’s heartbeat raced. Was the guy teaching him a lesson? If so he’d learnt it! Joe tried to explain, but nothing he said was intelligible thanks to the gag filling his mouth.

Peter just smiled down at his helpless captive. “Of course it helps that you didn’t tell your mates where you were going, that makes it nice and simple.”

He reached into a drawer next to the chair and took out a small pouch. Opening it he revealed a syringe full of a clear liquid. He made sure to squeeze a little out in full view of Joe, whose eyes were now like saucers. “This is just to help you enjoy your trip a bit more.” Saying that he plunged the syringe into the boy’s arm, squeezing the entire contents into him.

Joe struggled even more frantically, but the chair was not about to let him go. He could hear a buzzing noise growing in his head, which suddenly felt incredibly heavy as his vision blurred and went dark.