Tattooed

Published on Jul 1, 1996

Gay

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"TATTOOED" from the Files of TABOO TOPICS (714) 240-8480

The psychedelic craziness of the '60s hadn't yet begun. It was a quieter time. My only wish is that I had appreciated it more...

As Jimmy and I walked down the street of the small southern town, he kept reaching up to grab the strands of Spanish moss that hung down in clumps from the tree branches.

"Will you stop that!" I swatted at his arm. "Could be snakes up there." I had heard tales of deadly critters creeping out of the bayou.

"Only snake 'round here is this one, buddy." He groped the big mound of his groin, so prominently displayed in the tight jeans he was wearing. He swaggered, thrusting his hips forward, humping his hand.

"Jimmy!" I was embarrassed. "Someone might report us." We were Air Force. From a base close by. In our civies. Out to do the town.

"Shucks. We're just hicks. Ain't we? Don't know no better." Jimmy was a tall, golden blond hayseed from the hills of Tennessee. Broad shouldered. Slim hipped. Shit-eating grin. Too cute for his own good. I was from rural New England. Short. Dark. Hairy. And very naive.

'Where are we going? Not to that damp dump of a bar again, I hope." Jimmy liked rednecks. Called them "real men." Said that's what he liked about me. He always winked when he said it too. Which sent a surging twinge shooting right up between my legs. I had the hots for Jimmy. But he didn't know it.

"Ready to get that tattoo today?" He grinned that gorgeous toothy grin that set my heart to fluttering. He was muscular and wore his T- shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his bulging biceps. He had some kind of ferocious animal tattooed on his right bicep. When he flexed his arm, the animal's open mouth seemed to snarl. I stared at it, fascinated.

"It's a polecat. I told you. Like me," he grinned. "What are you going to get?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you be thinking. Cause that's where we're goin'. I know just the place."

The tattoo parlor was the pits. A hole in the wall. Next to a bar. On a back street. On the wrong side of town. Yeah. That's right. Like the lyrics from a country/western ballad.

The walls were plastered with lurid pictures of bikers and truckers, and drawings of fantasy creatures, human and animal. There was one smiley-smile face amidst all the weirdness.

"People actually have that put on them?" I asked Jimmy.

"Only fools." He rang the bell next to the register. I examined the authentic barber's chair bolted to the floor smack-dab in the middle of the room.

"What's this for?"

"Anything. Alton's versatile. Hell, he'll do your nails for a blowjob."

"Forget it."

"You haven't seen Alton."

"Jimmy, I'm not sure..." Then I saw Alton. Leaning in the doorway. Wearing overalls with the straps hanging off his hips. Nothing else. I think he had hair. Stubble. A neatly trimmed beard. He looked mean. His long, beefy, buffed-out body was solid. Hair on the upper back and shoulders. Square, powerful thighs. Definitely one of Jimmy's he- men. His eyes were all over me. I felt naked.

"Alton." Jimmy pulled me in front of him. "Kid needs a job."

"No work here." Alton sort of smiled.

"A tattoo, Alton."

"Leave him."

"If you promise to be good." Alton sort of smiled. "Warm him up for me," Jimmy whispered in Alton's ear. Loud enough for me to hear. He winked. "I'll be back." And left.

Alton closed the blinds and locked the door. He moved like a panther. Fluid grace. His hardrubber muscles shifting heavily.

Smears of grease. Dirt. Sweat. I could smell his funk from across the room. An aphrodisiac.

"Sit there." He indicated the barber's chair. He turned the radio to a hard rock station. Waves of jackhammer rhythm jolted my senses. "Music to fuck by," he grinned. I decided he was beautiful. "Have a beer. Have two or more," Alton handed me a cold six pack. "I'll clean up."

"No, don't! I mean. I..."

Alton's smile was genuine now. Open mouthed. Lot of tongue. "Gotta put some things away. Get mellow, son."

He was gone for half an hour. I was pretty snockered when he returned.

"Decided where you want this tattoo, son?" he purred, running a firm, callused hand up my thighs. I sighed. "How about an eagle? Spreading its wings. Right here." He squeezed the swell of my left butt. My legs parted like a flower blossoming. "Um-hmmm." He unbuttoned my pants and slid them down. I helped him get them off. "Fucking military," he murmured. "Never have anything under. Always prepared."

"Spread 'em wide," I hummed

"What's that, son?" Alton was preparing a bowl of warm soapy water.

"The tattoo." I took another swig of beer and let the fuel fire my loins. I hunched down in the chair, getting comfortable. "Wings spread nice 'an wide."

Alton just looked at me and smiled. "Got ya." He produced a pair of handcuffs. He took my arms and wrapped them around the back of the chair. "Gotta lock you up."

"W-why?" I jabbered, getting scared.

"So you don't grab for my gun, son. You grab, I jump, might hit your nuts."

"Oh. Okay." I let him cuff me. He brought the water and reached for a straight razor. "Now what?" I was really alarmed suddenly. Skittish.

"Relax. Gotta shave your butt. Too hairy." He knelt and secured padded leather restraints to each leg just above the ankle. Then he got up and began to place a longer restraint around my neck.

"Wait a minute!" I yelped, struggling. To no avail.

"You can't get loose." Alton grinned. "And you can't hold those legs up while I do this. Can you? Get real." I had to agree.

Alton lowered the chair almost flat. My legs were raised and a chain was hooked between each ankle restraint and the rings on either side of my collar. I was spread and stretched wide. Exposed. Vulnerable. My body bowed severely. My rigid hardon hugged my belly, head digging in.

"God, you're a sight." The sharp scrape of the razor's edge along my sensitive skin made me stutter. When it neared my anus, I began to babble. My aroused asslips puckered and prolapsed. "Nice pout. Been had lots of times, huh?" I tried to nod. "Like to have your box banged hard, do ya?" He was almost finished. A finger slithered into my slippery hole. I farted.

"Tight as a vise," Alton frigged me in churning swivels. My guts sucked him up to the knuckles, masticating the burrowing digit as though it was a stick of candy. Alton fed me another finger. "Hungry little devil." My butt jumped up and down.

Alton stood and stepped out of his pants. "Soap makes a great lube, don't it? Burns a bit." I stared in bug-eyed wonder at the huge, wedge-shaped whopper rising between his legs. He reached down to stroke the top-heavy monster while he continued to burp my gumming hole. It was like watching a rubber hose being stretched. The thing grew to enormous proportions.

Alton's fingers left my gaping asslips with a wet pop. The free hand roamed up my hairy belly to my big, boss tits. The thumb and little finger of the hand extended to tease both of the throbbing buds at the same time. I felt something blunt and slimy mop my asscrack. Then press against my gulping sphincters...

"Oh!" I pushed and swallowed.

"Pluck that magic twanger," Alton chuckled. He tore open a rubber with his teeth and rolled it on in a deft maneuver he had obviously practiced many times. He braced his legs for a devastating upthrust. My gaze traveled down the long, vein-snarled shaft that ended in a patch of dense, lush fur.

"Give it, g-give, oooh, it t-to me!" I jabbered.

"Sh-sure," Alton mocked me, rocking his hips to keep me guessing. My denuded crotch felt a raw, pulsing wound. I grunted and tried to trap the bulbous glands. Ravenous. Numb with excitement.

"Plow me!" I begged.

"These are the times that try men's souls." Alton grabbed my haunches and held on for dear life. "Time to lay some rubber, dude. Here it comes. Gonna put it to ya." And he did. In one ungodly, full- length sucker-punch, leaving skid marks clear up to my colon.

"ARGHH!" My teeth screeched. My body heaved. My cock squirted a rolling glob of pre-lube onto my chest.

Alton brought all the muscles in his brawny body into play in one coordinated effort. He was poetry in motion, working me from the hips in deep, deep bowel cramping jousts.

"Can't use your arms. Or legs. Use your eyes, son. Tell me with your eyes. How awful good it feels."

Good? I was in love. And he kept it up forever. Settling into a exotic bump and grind that drove me absolutely apeshit. . .

Alton unholstered his heavy, smoking firearm. "Amazing machine," he muttered, stroking the muzzle while he lowered the head of the chair further. For a second I thought he had meant my ass. "Bag lunch." He stripped the condom off and stepped over my hanging head. His thumper flattened my nose as it slid across my face and forced my chin down to my chest.

Alton bent his knees and began to hump my gurgling gullet, flexing his massive arms, admiring himself in the mirror while he settled into an easy, shagging rhythm that rolled my lips back onto my cheeks. I sucked, working my throat like a sump pump. Every time the last, wrist-thick inches squeaked past my ghoulish yawn, Alton's balls dragged up my face, roosting on my cheeks, and the swamp of his hairchoked crotch loomed inviting before my eyes. My mouth and the length of my neck, molded to the shaft, gripping and tugging on it.

"Wish I had time, kid," Alton winked. "To take ya round the world." He examined my gulping anus which was aimed right at the ceiling. All the muscles around it collapsed, sucking the puffed ring into the breech. Seconds later it popped out and rose like the crater of a new volcano, ragged, cock-craving, quivering. "Fresh fucked and begging for more."

Alton plunged three fingers into my shameless bung without missing a stroke down my neck that bulged my collar like a bellows. He slapped my ass, making me buck hard in my bondage. My arms hugged the back of the chair, the only thing holding me in my place.

Alton drilled his fingers like a corkscrew. "Gotta tame this wild beast." He snapped my elastic sphincters like he was plucking harp strings. "Gotta grind this slut butt into mince meat." The big- barreled bazooka buckled between my lips, making my mouth slurp with juicy, lip-smacking noises. He began withdrawing all the way...

"Fuck me," I murmured faintly before the huge cockhead rammed forward again.

"What's that?" He stayed in my throat for several minutes more, then pulled out.

"Fuck m--" I managed to gurgle before the long dong plunged past my twitching tonsils.

"I'll need to hear that once for every inch I'm gonna give ya, babe. We could be here awhile." My drool splattered on the floor, forming a puddle. "Job that rod. What an appetite. What a feast."

It was awhile before Alton had to tilt the chair up again to pound my pussy with more meat than a man could possibly handle without screaming. Fortunately, I had already survived the introductions, and had left the back door wide open. Alton just strutted inside and made himself right at home.

"I can't, I can't..." I whimpered, not quite sure exactly what it was I couldn't do. Alton gave me a particularly vicious polecock straight up the chew of my chute.

"Christ! You got teeth in there?" he chuckled. "Jimmy's gonna have a ball with you, baby."

"What are you...?"

"Hard to stay still in this furnace. But we got unfinished business. The tattoo." Alton used the pad of his thumb to stroke the flat, smooth top of my cockhead, which he had to pry loose from my stomach. "How about a smiley-smile right here?" he snarled.

"Oh, please..."

Alton took an over-ripe lemon from a bowl on the counter and shoved it between my teeth to gag me. "You want to bite it, son, you go ahead." I shook my head furiously, spraying him with sweat. "Don't you know it's April first, asshole. God, I hate fools."

He lowered his needle to my glands. "The squeeze is going to be awesome. Don't rip my cock off now, will ya?" I felt the terrible pricks like a million little fangs devouring me...

"UNGHH!"

My teeth pulverized the lemon in one jaw-jarring crunch. Pulp and juice flew everywhere. Up my nose, too. I gagged. My eyes watered.

"Done," Alton grinned. "Feel anything?" He pulled his cock out and sprayed the air with a fountain of frothy cum. "I sure did," he grimaced. "Whew!"

My body convulsed and erupted, splashing my chin in angry, jolting spasms.

"Keep Vaseline on your dick, son." He set me free. Jimmy knocked on the door. Alton let him in. "He's warm," Alton winked. Then seemed to change his mind. He grabbed me by the hair, planted a foot on my backside and propelled me into the back room. Still bare-assed. "Sorry, my man. But I got other priorities. Gotta brand this sucker. Rope and bust him. April fool."

He ushered Jimmy outside. He closed and relocked the door.

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