#saps_taps

i love getting tattooed, every step of the way. the cold sanitizer applied directly on my freshly shaven skin. goose bumps runs across my body in anticipation of the needle. and oh god, the needle. the constant vibration. the pricking. and of course the artist so focused on their work. working people are so attractive.

i usually have to doze off or just zone out so i can ignore how good it feels to lay still, getting stabbed over and over. watching someone immersed in their craft.

sometimes, there would be other people at the shop, watching, inspecting as if i was pig skin being practiced on. once, a guy with two full sleeves came up to me as i was getting my first ever tattoo. he stared and just said in such an earnest tone "Damn, your biceps would make the perfect canvas. They're so big and pale." to be fair, i was stunned. he watched as my face froze and frantically apologized, swearing on his life it was a compliment. it was adorable. i couldn't tell him that shit got me hot and bothered till this day though.

"You've been so quiet. Don't you want to cum so badly just hours ago. Enough to think you can outsmart me huh, roach?" they keep thrusting down. my knees gave long ago. i can barely open my eyes.

"Little maggot thinks it could get away with it." the back of their hand met my skin. my ass stings, it must be glowing red by now.

"That's the difference between you and me, roach. I don't let my greed." slap.

"Make." slap.

"Me." slap.

"Stupid." slap.

they felt that heartbeat again. the all too familiar contraction of my cunt around their cock. i gasp. a painful cry fills the room. another denial as they remove themselves from the clutch of my legs, their face twisted in disgust.

"I don't have time for failures. Either you do your fucking best or you'll never cum again. Get that into the pile of mulch you call a brain." their finger digs into my forehead, forcing my dazed eyes to focus on theirs. i nod. they slap across my face. blood pools in my mouth.

"Word, roach."