First Tattoo | Mysite

Disclaimer: This story is my intellectual property, and should be treated as such, do not plagiarize, or post without permission. If it is not legal to view writings that are sexually explicit and may have themes of bondage, feminization and other ‘deviant’ sexual experiences: don't read this. Don't read it, if it is not legal to do so where you live. Going any further is of your own free will, and responsibility is solely on yourself. Any similarity to real people or events is highly cliche, horrifying and unintentional

Rules for the subs:

Rule 1: If you want to be claimed my be, simply say it, “I belong to MIstress Dyvia.” And you are mine until your next orgasm.

Rule 2: I mark my subs, I prefer lipstick, if you do not have any, I will accept permanent marker, with the phrase, ‘Property of Mistress Dyvia,’ written on or around your genitals. Again I prefer lipstick, if you don’t have any, be sure to buy some for the next story of mine you read.

Rule 3: I want you aroused and frustrated. Keep yourself aroused during the story, but you may not cum. When you are done reading the story, you may contact me, tell me whether or not you followed my commands well, and you may ask me to allow you to cum.

Rule 4: This story includes a plot element around a tattoo, so I decided we need a rule that will stay in line with theme… and don’t worry, I won’t expect you to get a tattoo for me, lol… But everytime you see the word, ‘tattoo,’ I will expect you to put on another coat of lipstick to remind yourself that you are marked by me. (If you do not have lipstick, take the marker and draw a vertical line on your arm each time.

Enjoy!

Mistress Dyvia presents:

First Tattoo
By Mistress Dyvia

Hello, my name is Tatianna and I make a living with tattoos. I design some, I copy others from a book and people pay me money to start pricking at their skin with ink. In all honesty, most are pretty benign whether or not they regret them later or not. But, what most of humanity doesn’t realize is that there is power in some symbols. Strength, endurance, power, luck, agility love, hate, and so many other things that the right mark in the right place can influence our minds and our bodies.

I can’t tell you how many people wanted one of these symbols of power in the wrong place. And usually I talk them out of such things, if they are drunk, I simply make them come back another time.

Tonight, I was in the middle of one of the more benign tattoos on a girl who just wanted a butterfly the size of her thumbnail on her ankle when I heard a commotion. It was almost closing, so someone must have been pissed off that we weren’t taking any more appointments tonight.

Then my door burst open. My client shrieked and I looked up at a woman with a guy’s haircut, no makeup, wearing a t-shirt and jeans that were clearly not made for her, and she was glaring at me. “You did this on purpose!” she accused me of.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never seen you in my life.” was my honest response to her.

“Bullshit!” She turned around and lifted the back of her t-shirt and said, “You know that this was your work.”

“Ahhh…” I said as understanding hit me.

The client looked at me. “Tell you what, tell Lucy I’ll give you half price and we’ll finish up tomorrow.”

“Thanks…” she said as she stood up and looked at the other angry girl, “I don’t know what's going on, but your tattoo does look pretty.”

The woman gritted her teeth, and the client left. I gestured to the seat, “Have a seat, let’s discuss what happened.”

“What happened?” She looked at me incredulously, “You mean beyond the fact my clothes don’t fit right, where the fuck do you want to begin?”

I shrugged and sat back, “Let’s see… as I recall, it was the night before last. You and your buddies came in. You wanted to get some tattoos. We agreed. You all got matching ones on your right shoulder.” I nodded my head to his right shoulder, “But you decided that wasn’t enough.

“You were looking at my private collection of books while I was giving ‘Damien’ his tat. When it was all done you demanded I give you that crazy tattoo, and I said it would cost extra.” You said you didn’t care, and then you said you wanted it where you did and I said no. You got huffy and puffy about it, and offered me a stack of hundred dollar bills… I warned you that there could be side effects of putting that tattoo where you asked for it. You didn’t even let me finish, dropped the money down and waited for me. I did. Now you’re upset?” I smirked, “Am I missing anything?”

“You didn’t tell me that it would do this.” She gestured down to her body, “You didn’t say one word about that.

“I’m pretty sure that ‘unexpected side effects-’” -and yes, I totally air-quoted that, “-covered that.”

“Unexpected side effects?” he looked at me incredulously, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”

“Nope.” I sighed, crossed my legs, And leaned forward, “Why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been through.”

She sat down and put her face into her hands for a moment then sat up as if ready to speak. “It's like you said, me and my buddies were out on the town having fun, hit a few bars and then we started talking about that old sci-fi movie, Starship Troopers and we thought it would be great to have a tattoo like they did. Thought we didn’t get the futuristic skulls and-”

“-and you didn’t get rainbows either… moving on.” I said.

So as you know we showed up, you and the others did our tattoos, I was flipping through your book thinking that since it wasn’t so bad, maybe I’d get another to set myself apart from my friends. As I pointed it out to them, they all pushed me to go get it.

“And I initially said no.” I told her.

“Yeah, she confirmed, “you said no. You were pissed that I went behind the counter to grab the book.”

“Behind the counter is not for customers.” I defended myself.

“So I wanted this one symbol which looked hot-”

“-It looked like a stylized female figure with big tits…” I corrected her.

“Really? I don’t see it…” She said looking at it on her phone.

I walked over to my original sketch, and held it up to her, I pointed to the center, “These two circles… Tits…” I pointed just below that, “The Narrow hourglass shape to wide circular shapes, hourglass figure, child bearing hips.” and then the middle, “Giant missing section at the point of the legs meeting… Vag…”

She squinted her eyes as if trying to pretend she didn’t see what was obviously there now. “Oh.. Now I see it.”

Yeah, No fucking shit she saw it now… “Anyway…” I urged her to continue.

“Well you finally agreed to it, but when I said where I wanted it on my back. You were hesitant, something about it interfering with one of my shack-rahs.”

“Chakra.”

“Whatever. So I threw more money at you until you finally agreed after telling me that you weren’t responsible for the outcome, and then you did the tattoo…”

“And do you know why I made you re-tell this whole story even though I remember it?”

She shook her head, “No…?”

“Because you paid for it and agreed that I was not responsible for the repercussions.”

“But you did it, that makes you responsible, you didn’t tell me what it would do.” She argued.

“If I did tell you all the details, would you have believed me?”

She shrugged, “Probably not.” and paused, “But things got worse, so much worse, the police were involved and everything.”

I laughed, “Okay, now I actually do want to hear this.”

“It’s not funny!” she pleaded. “I literally left with my buddies. And everything was fine, I went to bed and passed out drunk. The next morning I woke up, and instantly I knew something was wrong, the hangover was intense. But that was nothing when I rolled over in bed, and my chest wanted to keep going. I had boobs!... BOOBS! Real fucking boobs! I was supposed to be a guy, so I reached down, and you know what?”

“No dick?” I supplied.

She nodded her head, “I had no fucking dick!”

“Total vag?” I asked.

“I had a pussy!” she scream-confirmed. “I ran to the bathroom, and I was a fucking chick! Except for my hair, my hair was still the same. But I was a chick.”

“You are a chick.” again I corrected her 'was.'

Ignoring my comment, she continued, “So I stayed at home the entire day, I didn’t dare go out. I was terrified someone might recognize me like this.” She said.

I shook my head, “Not likely.”

“Well, when I woke up the next day and I still hadn’t changed back, I decided to come down here and talk to you. The place was still closed so I drove home… but I got pulled over by the police. I tried to use my licence, but it didn’t match my picture, they arrested me!”

I used my hands to gesture for her to continue.

I literally sat in a cell like a criminal for four hours, until they finally got around to my fingerprints and realized I was who I said I was. They said something about updating my licence and let me go with no charges, but… What was I supposed to do?”

I shrugged my shoulders at her, “Not speed, not make any moving violations… public transportation?”

“Not funny.” she declared.

Again, I shrugged, “Wasn’t trying to be.” But I paused and put up a hand for her to let me continue, “And your utter lack of responsibility that got you pulled over is not my fault either. The symbol changed your gender not your behavior.”

“Wait, your symbols can change behavior as well?”

I nodded my head, let out a sigh, and told her to “Carry on with your story....” encouraging her to tell the rest of her story.

“So I got home, and got a text from my mom, my parents know I’m a chick because they had a friend at the police station who told them everything.” She took a breath, “Mom was freaking out, dad was freaking out, I tried to explain, but mom didn’t believe me, magic ain’t real. Hey thought I’d started ‘transitioning,’ and didn’t tell anyone. I tried to explain. Dad was pretty much skeptical, but said if it was true, that I needed to handle it. So I looked up when your business was open and came down here.” Then she looked at me with expectation.

“And you waited until now? You came almost at closing. You couldn’t have called first?” I accused and asked pretty much at the same time.

“You have to fix this.” she said with a voice that was surprisingly well toned for both pleading and demanding at the same time.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, and lifted an eyebrow, “I don’t have to do shit.”

She looked a bit more angry, “But this is your fault.”

“Hey!” I yelled at her, “We already established that was not my fault. You paid, you paid a lot for me to ink you. You ignored me, blew me off, and you even admitted that if I did tell you the specific outcome that you wouldn’t have believed me. You paid extra to do it anyway. This is quite literally your own responsibility.”

“You could have done more. Still refused me.”

“You were not taking ‘no’ for an answer, and you finally hit my price.” I said without any pity in my voice… at all.

“Can you fix it?” she asked with an impressive puppy dog face for a chick without experience of flashing her big eyes…

I smirked, “I think I can.” and smiled a warm smile at her.

Her shoulders lifted like a ton had just been lifted off of her. “Thanks.” with a genuine and warm tone to her voice.

“It won’t even cost too much...” I told her as I started sterilizing the needle.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” she said, “You’re doing this for free. You fucked this up, you fix it.”

I let out another long annoying sigh, she still has the masculine ‘hear what she wants to hear’ thing going for her. And then an idea popped into my head. “I suppose I could write you up as a canvas volunteer.” I just made the word up on the spot. “You know a person who volunteers their skin for a tattooist to learn on.”

“Yeah, do that.” she agreed a little too quickly.

“Okay, but you’ll have to sign some forms.”

“Anything. Just fix this.”

I nodded my head and stepped outside while I filled Lucy in on what was happening. She printed out a disclaimer with agreements that she does not in any sense hold us responsible if she is not happy with our results, will not sue, etc. etc.

I brought it back in and she signed without looking at one word. I handed it back to Lucy, grabbed my sketchbook and returned to her, and flipped through it. “I think that in order to make this better, I’m going to have to give you two small tattoos. One here,- I poked at a spot on her back just over her tailbone, “and one here,” I tapped the back of her skull, “Which means I will have to shave a small part of the back of your head.”

“Yeah, fine whatever.”

A little while later, she had two new tattoos, one on the back of her head, and one tramp stamp. I gave her some instructions for caring for it, and she just ‘yeah’d me to death. It was clear she had one pressing question, “When will I be all better?”

“You need a full eight hours of sleep, so after that the magic in the symbols will be complete. And you will wake up feeling like your true self.”

She let out a sigh of relief, smiled widely, and thanked me as she left.

Lucy looked at me. “Why did you give her two tattoos? Didn’t you just have to draw a line through the symbol to break the magic?”

I giggled, “Yeah.”

“So you just wanted her to feel pain to teach her some sort of lesson?”

I shook my head, “No, the symbols weren’t going to change her back to a man. The symbol on the back of her head was a way to make her embrace femininity. So when she wakes up, she will love her new body, she’ll feel like she finally is her ‘true self.’”

After a quick laugh, “And the other?”

“Sexual Chakra,” I said, “And the symbol for ‘insatiable’ hidden by another symbol that will make anyone who sees it, want her.”

“Holy shit. Was that all necessary?”

I shrugged, “No. But I was pissed that she wouldn’t take responsibility for her own actions, and aggravated she had no desire to pay me for my time or my supplies, which I was going to do for her at a pretty big discount. I might even have done it for free if she asked… but no… She had demands… She had to be a dick about it. So… she can have as many of them as she likes in the future.”

“Wait.. You made her like dick.. So she’s a straight chick?” she said with a laugh.

“No… ‘insatiable,” I don’t think it will be long before she actually doesn’t care what gender she’s sleeping with… fucking with… As long as it feels good.”

The End.

If you knew what would happen after confronting Tatiana, would you have been more polite, or more rude to her? Cause I think we both know you wouldn’t act like our poor tattooed protagonist. As always I want to hear from you, answer that last question, give me your opinion, or a review.

Kisses!

Email: Mistress_dyvia@yahoo.com

Twitter: @Dyvia16
Website: Mistressdyvia.com

First Tattoo By Mistress Dyvia

First Tattoo
By Mistress Dyvia