Greetings from a tattoo chair

Holy shit, I’ve been busy.

So busy, in fact, that I’m writing this post on my phone as I’m getting a 12-hour tattoo done. But luckily it’s on my left arm, and I’m right-handed, so it frees me up to type. You know I made damn sure to bring my phone charger with me.

Seriously, what did people do before smartphones? The idea of sitting here all damn day, with nothing to help me tune out the pain not to mention the fucking boredom) would drive me nuts.

The last seven days or so have been awesome. It started with bending Sounder over his kitchen island and fucking him senseless (which was awesome, and deserves a post of its own. But he discovered his inner slut. It was great), and then continued with bending Kazander over and doing wicked, awful things to him (which deserves a post of its own, but was awesome), and continued again with me playing with a boy (we’ll call him Southern) in a mall on the Strip.

I met Southern when I was a Pro Domme in Alabama. He started as a regular customer, and we bonded. And he comes out to Vegas every year. So whenever he comes in town, we see each other.

Well, except for last time he came. Last time, there was some kind of fucking epidemic tearing its way through Vegas. Everyone was sick. It was like a cold, but a thousand times worse, and lasted for weeks (if you were lucky. Lots of people were sick for a month or two). I was practically bed-ridden, so I couldn’t see him.

But this time, I was healthy. Usually we just have lunch or hang out in a vanilla setting. There’s no play involved, because we don’t have anywhere to play.

But this time, we found a way around that. He bought a wireless remote-controlled vibrating egg, and had it shipped to me. So when I went to meet him at the mall, I brought it, as well as a condom and lube.

Now, you know that I’m not into excessive public play. So I wasn’t going to beat him or do anything obvious. But a vibrating egg would be a lot of fun.

So we found a family bathroom, where I could put it in him. And funny story: of course the women’s bathroom was closed for cleaning at right that moment, so there was a line of women who gave us some funny looks when we went into the bathroom together.

So I got the egg in him, and we went back out into the mall. For a minute, we just strolled, then decided to get lunch at one of the restaurants there.

I didn’t turn the egg on right away. And he said that when it’s off, he could almost forget it was in him.

So we walked a bit, making our way through the mall. We were just talking about vanilla things. Just casual conversation. But then, as he was in the middle of a sentence, I pressed the button on the remote, and the egg buzzed to life inside of him.

And his reaction was everything I’d hoped it would be. He stopped mid-sentence and his hands balled into fists, twitching as he tried not to react. And to his credit, he did a decent job of keeping it together. He kept walking, he walked normally, and other than his hands and his facial expression, you wouldn’t have known by looking at him that anything was going on.

So that was awesome, and I just couldn’t help but giggle. But I was merciful and turned it off after 20 seconds or so, and let him regain his composure.

We got the the restaurant and were seated at our table. Moments later, the waitress came to take our drink order. I gave her mine, and of course I turned the egg on as soon as he started to give her his.

He did a really, really good job of hiding it. She had no idea. But I could see the little signs. The fingers that started frantically tapping the table, the little tremor in his voice, the short hesitation when I first turned it on.

And my grin stretched from ear to ear.

When she walked away, and I turned the egg off, he sighed, then leaned forward and whispered, “You’re evil!”

I laughed and said, “I have never once claimed to be a good person.”

When the waitress came back with our drinks, I decided to be nice, and didn’t turn the egg back on. But she looked at us and said, “You two have been smiling ever since you walked in here.”

And I only grinned wider. If she only knew the reason why…

But as it turns out, the remote was even meaner than I am. At one point, I turned the egg back on, and couldn’t get it to turn off. So he was sitting there, subtly squirming, getting hornier and hornier.

Full disclosure: I wasn’t all that sympathetic to his plight.

We finally left the restaurant and headed back out into the mall. And I think the metal underneath the table must’ve messed with the remote signal or something (I held the remote under the table). As soon as we left the restaurant, it started working perfectly again.

He needed to head to another mall on the Strip to buy a pair of pants, so I drove him there. And once we were in the car, and he didn’t have to worry about hiding his reaction, it was even better. He was squirming and twitching and moaning in the cutest way. It was adorable.

And then, I left it off from the time we got to the mall to the time he was looking at the pants. He bent over to look through a stack on a low shelf, and as soon as he did, I turned the egg back on.

Which was hilarious.

And then I turned it on again as he was talking to the employees, making him deal with it whirring away inside of him as he was trying to carry on a conversation. It was great.

I drove him back to the first mall, and we headed back to the family restroom to take the egg out of him. Luckily, this time, there was no line.

I took the egg out, he walked me to my car, and we hugged and said goodbye. It was a fantastic afternoon.

I can’t wait to see him again. With any luck, next time he comes out, we’ll be able to play privately. That’ll be fun.

So now, I’m about three hours in to my tattoo, and tomorrow night, I’m jumping on a plane to go to the other side of the country to visit my mom’s side of the family.

Oh and it’s cold there. I’ll need a jacket. I’ll need to put a jacket on over a two-day-old, 12-hour tattoo. When I got 6-hour tattoo last year, just the sun shining on it the next morning hurt like a bitch.

That’s not an exaggeration. The sun shining on it literally burned like hell. And it took me completely by surprise, since all my other tattoos are small and didn’t take long. I didn’t know it was even possible for sunlight to be painful, much less that painful. It was nuts.

And now I’m getting a tattoo that’s twice as big (and painful as fuck, by the way), stretching from my shoulder to my elbow, and I’m going to have to put a jacket on over it day after tomorrow.

Fuck me, man.

And I’m not looking forward to spending another week with my mom, and having to deal with my sister. But there is one bright spot during the visit that’ll make my immediate family more bearable. And I seriously love flying, even when it’s coach.

And this’ll be the spawn’s very first plane ride. She’s a little nervous, but I went out and bought her a bunch of new, super-special toys to keep her occupied on the plane. And it’s a red-eye flight, so she should sleep through most of it.

Yeah, so it’ll be fun.

2 thoughts on “Greetings from a tattoo chair

  1. TK says:

    Fun times…. Most of the egg products we’ve seen weren’t suitable for anal use (no method to easily retrieve them). As neither of us is looking forward to an awkward trip to the ER (a hard limit I suppose), I’d be really interested to know which egg this was if you can share…. Thanks !

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