El Tigre

They called him El Tigre. His tattoo parlor was set up in the back room of an underground dance club. He had built up a reputation as a true artist, doing his best work when given free reign to sculpt an image of his own choosing around the natural contours of the body.

I went home from the club with a different guy every night. I was always attracted to badasses, the ones I thought could give me a little pain along with the pleasure, and something else I craved but couldn't articulate. They were fun for a night, usually, but none of them had ever been able to give me whatever it was I was looking for.

El Tigre was an enigma to me. He was, of course, covered in elaborate tattoos which he had obviously designed himself to fit together as one giant piece of live human art. They moved tantalizingly with the rippling of his muscles. I was always curious to see what was hiding beneath his dark beard and hair, and his clothing. It was even rumored that he had done some of the work himself. Sometimes I would flirt with a guy, or even a girl, just to convince them to get a tattoo right then so I could watch him work. They were usually pretty fucked up, but that just gave him more control and the end result was never something they would regret in the morning. I could also gage by their reaction to the pain if they were really worth my time. El Tigre never spoke to me, or even looked at me. He was only interested in his art.

One night I was making out with this chick on the dance floor. We were attracting quite a lot of attention, as two girls will in such a situation. She had been doing every kind of drug she could get her hands on to forget her boyfriend who had just dumped her. Now she was grinding against me to forget him. I finally broke the kiss and breathed in her ear, as if it had just occurred to me, that the best way to take her mind off of him would be to do something totally crazy, like getting a tattoo. She agreed enthusiastically, so I took her by the hand and led her to the back of the club, my eyes flashing at her in excitement.

She was too disoriented to decide what she wanted. Finally, El Tigre did a quick sketch of a small butterfly to engrave on the curve of her breast, elegantly artful, but innocuous enough not to offend her bland conformity, and placed perfectly to accentuate her best feature. She agreed and he began to work.

It was late and the club was emptying out. As the drugs began to wear off, she turned maudlin and weepy. It was hard to tell whether it was from the physical pain or the lost boyfriend. Either way, it was most definitely annoying. El Tigre seemed to feel the same way and looked at me for the first time ever, reproachfully. He finished quickly and called her a cab.

As the door closed behind her, I hung back, trying to gather my nerve to speak to him. "Now do me," I said boldly, breathlessly, my heart pounding.

He looked tired and disinterested. He sighed. "What did you have in mind?"

"You're an artist. My body olgun porno is a blank canvas. It is yours to do with as you please." I had no tattoos or piercings whatsoever. I guess, in a way, I had been saving myself for him.

His eyes widened infinitesimally in surprise and sudden interest, then turned speculative as the full meaning of my words sank in. He seemed suddenly awake and alert. I had clearly caught the attention of the artist in him, and perhaps the man as well. He began to look at me appraisingly, probing, his mind working overtime. "Take off your shirt and lie face down on the table." He spoke impersonally, as if distracted. He took little notice of me as I removed my top, absorbed in a rough sketch he was making on a large drawing pad, only occasionally glancing up to study my body like a piece of wood he was about to carve.

Finally, he rose and began to run his hands over my shoulders and down my back, familiarizing himself with the contours of skin and muscle. "I would like to do something fairly elaborate. It may take a while. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes," I breathed, shakily. I had played around quite a bit with BDSM and knew that I had a pretty high tolerance for pain, and even enjoyed it. Even so, I was nervous since I had not yet experienced this particular variety of torment.

"Good." I could hear the satisfied smile in his voice. "Let's get started then." I felt a soft wet cloth rubbing sensually across my back, washing away the sweat of the dance floor. Then he began sketching with a pen on my skin, using broad strokes, beginning at my neck and shoulders and moving downward. He gave me no hint as to what to expect, but I had seen enough of his work to know that I trusted him completely.

When I saw him readying the needle, my heart began to pound and my breathing became ragged. He noticed and looked at me sharply. "Are you sure you're ready for this? It's not too late to back out."

"I'm ready. Please. I want it." I couldn't keep the begging tone from my voice. I felt a tightening in my stomach and moistness between my legs.

And so it began. The pain combined with the vibrations of the needle made me moan. He started at my right shoulder but I could feel the sensations reverberating through my whole body, down into my most intimate parts. He must have known that they were moans of pleasure rather than pain. When he moved around to the front of the table to brush my hair aside and begin working on my neck, he was close enough for me to catch the musky scent of his crotch. I could see his erection through his jeans. Either his own artwork turned him on or he was turned on by my obvious arousal. I hoped it was the latter.

I don't know how long he worked on me before announcing the first break. My body was humming from his ministrations and I was panting with need. He walked around me slowly, caressing my body impersonally, planning his next move. I felt my bare nipples harden against the leather porno bench and writhed under his touch. "You know you'll have to hold perfectly still for this. Will that be a problem?'

"I-I don't know," I stammered honestly.

"This might help." He took my right wrist and stretched it down near the base of the table leg, clasping a soft, fur-lined cuff around it which I hadn't realized was there. Then he did the same with the left wrist so that my arms were pulled taut, leaving my upper body completely immobile. "Comfortable?"

I whimpered my assent, surrendering myself to this man and whatever he had planned for me.

As he worked over my left shoulder, my body became more sensitized, rather than less. The pain became more intense and the vibrations deeper. His hands were warm and firm on my skin. I felt I would burst into flames. When he began to move down my left side, I cried out uncontrollably at the sensation.

It felt like hours before he called for the second break. It must have been very late. This time he ordered some food to be delivered from a nearby all-night restaurant. It arrived quickly and he fed me fruit and shrimp cocktail, leaving me chained to the table. He could have easily released me, but we both seemed to enjoy the current state of affairs.

When he began again, he was inching down my spine and the pain finally overcame the pleasure. I whimpered pitifully. He paused and moved to another part of the room. I heard a drawer open and close. He came around to the front of the table. I could again see his large erection. I wondered vaguely, how long he would maintain that. "Suck on this. Get it good and wet." He put a black rubbery devise into my mouth and I did as I was told. He removed it and moved around behind me, unceremoniously pushing aside my short skirt and panties and inserting it into my anus. I gasped in surprise, realising it was a butt plug. Again he began his work on my back but this time, when the pain became too much for me, he flipped a switch on a small remote control and the vibrations immediately concentrated in my ass. My entire body reverberated from his work but it was all centered right there.

I managed to stay perfectly still but couldn't control my screams of ecstasy. They echoed through the small windowless room. My upper body was still held immobile but when he sensed my impending release, he paused until it had passed so as not to ruin the artwork. It was too soon for another break, but the intensity of my arousal must have finally broken through his artist's passion and awoken the man inside. He set down the needle and walked around behind me. He abruptly pulled my panties down to my thighs, holding them tightly together, butt plug still vibrating, and quickly began to fuck my dripping pussy. It was deep and hard and fast, purely for his own pleasure, since I had already had mine. I knew from experience that he would be able to feel the vibrations as well and I soon felt his seed spill into Porno izle me. He sighed with satisfied release. Before pulling out and replacing my panties, he lifted my skirt and ran his hands impersonally over my behind, assessing the material for an extension of the original design. Then he diligently returned to work.

He finished my left and right sides. There were no windows, but the morning light was beginning to peek through the frosted glass of the door. He locked it so that we would not be disturbed by the club staff. He removed the rest of my clothing, clearly understanding that I could withstand even more.

However, he was also aware of human limitations, both mine and his own, and knew it was time for a true rest. He unfastened my wrists and brought me to lie on top of him on the couch that he used as a bed so as not to marr the fresh ink on my back. I could feel yet another erection pressed hard against my bare belly. With a growl of frustration, El Tigre maneuvered me and himself so he could remove his clothing from underneath me. He settled back into position, both of us now completely nude, and slipped himself inside me. His exhaustion slowed his movements somewhat and he only briefly bothered with my pussy, just long enough to moisten his cock. Then he removed it and firmly inserted his full length into my ass. Once inside, he grabbed my still pristine ass cheeks to guide me back and forth on top of him. I could feel my orgasm building despite my exhaustion as his movements grew in speed and force. He stuffed his musky shirt into my mouth to stifle my cries of release and pounded my ass hard and deep to reach his own.

We slept the sleep of the exhausted and satiated. I don't know how long. Periodically I heard a knock at the door, but we ignored it.

Eventually he woke me with some breakfast and we returned to our work. He put a gag in my mouth to muffle the moans of pleasure since the club was again open for business. Mostly the pain and pleasure were perfectly matched, but whenever the pain became too great, he would distract me with a vibrator, either in my cunt or in my ass. At break times, he would fuck me hard and fast in whichever hole was not already plugged. He was working now on my buttocks. The sensation was incredible, an intense quaking heat. I could not control my gyrations and he had to restrain my ankles to keep me still.

Periodically, during a break, he would fuck my face instead. I was so in awe of his artistic abilities that I did everything I could to please him. Lying prone on my stomach, I was able to suck his cock more thoroughly than I normally could have. Again, since I frequently achieved mine spontaneously, he seemed primarily concerned with his own pleasure, pounding my throat mercilessly.

I'm not sure how many days we spent in all, but finally he declared it finished. For the first time, he allowed me to see the result after unshackling me. I wobbled on rubbery legs to the two full length mirrors. My entire back and buttocks were infused with ink, with a perfect rendition of my own face being devoured by a tiger. I knew when I saw it that even if I was just a finished canvas to him, that he had consumed my soul along with my skin and that I would always belong to him completely.