Tattoos of the Soul

On Saturday morning, she drove back to the tattoo shop.

“Hi. Uh…,Cassandra, wasn’t it? What can I do for you today?”

“I think…. No. I – I know. I want you to do my tattoo.”

“There’s a lot of work there. I’ll have to charge you a thousand, but you could pay by the session.”

“I don’t care. This morning, I got up and looked at myself for the umpteenth time. I like it, and I want it, no matter what it costs and no matter what anybody else thinks.”

Thomas moved a lever and put the chair in its reclining position.

“OK. I’ll need you to – “

“Take off my clothes. I know, and that’s OK. I expected that. I think I can do it if you turn around first.”

“Well, if you want to take them off, it’s fine by me, but I’ll only cover you up with some towels so you don’t get cold. Just pull your pants down to your thighs, and lift your shirt up. Then lay on your stomach on my chair, here.”

Cassandra felt really stupid laying on the chair with her bare bottom sticking up in the air. Thomas washed his hands, put on surgical gloves and sat on a stool beside the chair.

“I’ll do the outlines first. It’ll take quite a while because the lines have to be very fine. If it gets too hard to keep still, just tell me and we’ll stop. I’m going to put on some antiseptic now.”

She jumped when his hands touched her skin.

“Sorry.”

“That’s OK. Most people do that. You cold? I try to keep it warm in here.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You have all these goosebumps.”

“You’re the only man who’s ever touched me there except Brian and my doctor.”

She felt him drawing on her hips and back, the same feeling she’d had when he painted on the design with the markers. It made little tingles run up her spine.

A harsh buzzing sound started.

“OK, Cassandra. Here we go. Try to lay still.”

She cried out at the first bite of the needle and bit her lip. Tears came to her eyes. After a few seconds the pain eased, and she felt Thomas wiping over the area.

“You have great skin, Cassandra. It takes the ink really well. Your tattoo’s going to be very clear and sharp.”

“Thanks. I hope it – ouch!

“It’s going to hurt a little more over your tailbone, but you’re doing great. Just stay with me, OK?”

“OK.”

After a while, after she understood how much it was going to hurt, it wasn’t that bad. Cassandra laid her cheek on her arm and tried to think about something else. Wouldn’t Brian be surprised if he knew what she was doing? He’d never find out, of course, but he’d never dream she’d do something like this. As for the kids, if they found out, they’d think she was crazy, but let them think that. She’d given them a lot of her life. They could at least try to understand.

“Tell me, you don’t seem like the type. Why’d you really come to my shop?”

“I told you. Linda said a tattoo would make me feel better.”

“Better about what?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me. I’ve heard about everything.”

“Brian – that was my husband - Brian was pretty domineering. He was an account manager for an insurance company up until about two months before our divorce, and I guess he got used to telling people what to do. I’m not a very forceful woman, so it was kind of nice that he decided everything. Then we had kids, and I always had things to do for them. When the kids left, I still had Brian telling me everything I needed to do. Usually how to do it, too. You can get used to a life like that, you know? “Well, Brian got – ouch!”

“Sorry. I’m about done there. Just a couple more minutes.”

“I’m OK. Anyway, Brian got fired. He told me he’d quit because they wouldn’t give him a raise, but when I called a friend who works there, she told me got fired. She said she didn’t know why, but I’m sure she did. She just didn’t want to be the one to tell me.

“Brian told me he was looking for another job. Left at seven every morning and typed letters until ten every night. I believed him. Then Linda - she’s my neighbor and best friend - she stayed home from work one day because she had the flu. She was making some tea, and saw Brian and this redhead go in our back door. Then she saw somebody pull down the blind in our bedroom. They stayed in the house until about an hour before I got home.

“Can you believe that? He was making love to her right in our bed. Right where he made love to me. When Linda told me, I wouldn’t believe her. I just knew Brian wouldn’t ever do anything like that. I almost stopped speaking to her. Then, one weekend, I changed the sheets and saw this spot. I’d been having …, I couldn’t do anything that week, but there it was. How much longer? I really need to move a little.”

“Go ahead. You should have said something earlier. Wiggle all you want. When you’re done, I’ll keep going. We’ll be done for today in a half-hour or so.”

“Ah. That’s better. My arm was going to sleep. Anyway, I asked him how that spot got there. He says how did I think it got there. I said it wasn’t from us, because I couldn’t and he knew that. He said when we couldn’t do it, sometimes he’d do that in his sleep and hadn’t I ever heard that. That’s when I told him what Linda’d seen. He just laughed at me. He said Linda was just probably drunk again and only thought she saw that.

“Well, Linda does drink, but not in the morning, and I haven’t seen her drunk except at a party once in a while. I went next door – I told Brian we needed some eggs – and apologized to Linda. I asked her to call me the next time she saw anything. A week later, on her day off, she saw them again and called me. I came home and walked in on them. You know what the worst part was? She didn’t even look real. Her boobs were big, all right, but they were pure silicone. Just …, balls is the only way I can describe them, just big balls stuck on her chest. And her butt looked like a little girl’s.

“I filed for divorce and he didn’t contest anything. Couldn’t really, because I’d caught him red-handed.” Cassandra chuckled. “I guess that should be ‘redhead handed’ shouldn’t it? Well, after the divorce, it was strange. There was nobody to tell me what to do. I kept waiting, and nothing happened. That’s when Linda told me I needed to do something to change my life, you know, to make me start thinking about things again, and to give me some confidence.

“I’m not very inventive, I’m afraid. Linda said she got a tattoo and it helped her. I figured, why not? One little rose on my hip, like she has, wouldn’t hurt anything if I didn’t like it. I went to a bunch of shops, well, I drove past them, anyway. There were kids all around them. Weird looking kids. I kept thinking I could be their mother. I found you by accident. I’m glad I did.”

“So you wanted a tattoo to give you confidence. You seem pretty confident today. Not many women would consider a full lower back for their first tattoo. They’d have gotten that rose your friend has.”

“It was just so beautiful when you drew it. And then when I got home…. All this time, I’d been thinking maybe it was because I was just a fat old wife like Brian said sometimes. With the drawing on me, I looked different. Kind of…. I never thought of myself as sexy before, and it was fun. Linda liked it, too.”

“You’re going to think of yourself as different in a lot of ways, now. Tattoos are that way. Once you have one, you find out things about yourself you never knew, never even imagined.”

“That why you have so many?”

“In some ways, I suppose it is. It’s really personal and hard to explain.”

“I told you my story. What’s yours.”

“Got my first one in college. My brother had one he got in the Army. He was a man. I wanted to be a man, too. I got a skull on my right arm. It was cool and the girls liked it. Jackie liked it enough that we started dating. We got married my senior year.

“Well, I was working for a greeting card company, and they send you off to workshops all the time so you can come up with new ideas. I found out Jackie was having some workshops of her own when I was gone. Not much to tell about that. She went her way. I went mine. The card company was a bore so I quit. Did a bunch of stuff for a couple years trying to figure out where I was going. I was working in this hotel and they had a tattoo convention one weekend. After my shift was over, I paid my five bucks and went in.

“There were artists from all over. Some of the big names at the time were there, and when I looked at their work, I kept thinking I could do at least that good. I talked to a couple of them and ended up apprenticing myself with one, a guy out in L.A. I started learning and the more I learned, the more I liked it. The money was pretty good too.

“One set of designs the guy had kept pulling at me. They were Celtic. He’d bought them from some artist in Scotland. When I finished my apprenticeship, I took a trip over there to see the real thing. While I was there, I got my right sleeve.”

“Sleeve?”

“The tattoo that covers my right arm. It’s called a sleeve.”

“Oh.”

“That tattoo did something to me. The artist said the design was one of the Celtic symbols for strength. I felt like I’d changed, like I was better, more at ease with my self, I don’t know. When I came home, I brought that notebook of designs with me, and I started drawing them for myself. Over the last twelve years or so, I’ve had my back done, the other arm, and most of my chest. Every one changes me. Maybe the Celts were right and they do have something to do with the Gods.”

“That why your other clients come to you, to get your Celtic designs to change them?”

“Well, actually, you’re the first person other than me to get one. There we are. All done for today. Wanna see?”

He gave her a mirror.

“I – I don’t know what to say. It’s…, it’s wonderful.”

“I’m going to put some anti-bacterial cream on it and then a bandage. You’ll have to keep it clean and dry and use a good moisturizing lotion for a few days. It’s all on this paper. Read what it says and follow the directions. You probably won’t have any scabbing, , just a little crusty stuff, but don’t pick at it. When it starts to peel, you’ll know you’re growing new skin again. After that, it’s a permanent part of you. I’ll see you again, when?”

“Next Saturday OK? Same time?”

“Next Saturday it is.”

Just like he’d asked, a month after Thomas had finished the tattoo, Cassandra drove back to his studio.

“Wow! I said your tattoo would change you, but I didn’t think it’d change you that much.”

“Oh, this? After a couple weeks, it started to look really nice, just like you said. The only trouble was, I couldn’t show it to anybody, well, except to Linda. She jealous, by the way. I was dying to tell somebody, but I couldn’t very well just drop my pants and show them, could I? That’s when I went out and bought these jeans and this top. You can’t see it all, but you can see the butterfly and the vines that go up my sides. You should see the stares I get. It’s a little embarrassing, but it’s kind of nice, too.”

Yes, he thought, she was definitely something to stare at. The feeling had come back and it made him a little uneasy. He’d sworn it would never happen this way again.

“I can imagine. I’d stare at you, too.”

“Yeah, but that’d just be because you wanted to see the tattoo.”

“I’m a tattoo artist, I’m not dead. Didn’t you do something to your hair, too?”

“Yes. Linda did it for me. You like it?”

“Yeah, I like it a lot. It fits with the jeans.”

“So, are you going to take my picture now?”

“Yep. Just uh, pull down your pants and stand against that wall.”

Thomas picked up his instant camera and watched as Cassandra worked the tight, low-rise jeans over her hips. She was beautiful and erotic as hell. Her hips moved seductively from side to side as she pulled the jeans down, and she ended up by sticking her ass out to pull them down to her thighs. He caught a fleeting glimpse of thin lips beneath dark hair before she stood up again.

“I need to pull up my shirt, right?”

“Yeah. Just a little should do it.”

She pulled it up past the band of her pale blue bra. He could see the side of one lace cup.

“This enough?”

“That’s fine.”

He took three pictures, one to capture the entire tattoo, and two others to show the detail.

“OK, I’m done. Now, let’s have a look at you.”

Yes, it was back again. He was just as male as any man, but much like a doctor, he tried to concentrate on his work and not let his female clients affect him. It had worked for all these years, until her. Cassandra was different.

Her skin was warm and soft, a lot warmer and softer than he remembered. He slowly ran his fingers over the tattoo to check for any bumps that might indicate infection or scarring. Everything was fine, but he checked twice more, just to be sure.

“Everything looks fine. You’re all set to dazzle the men in your life.”

Cassandra turned around, still holding up her shirt. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips were slightly parted. Was he saying she dazzled him?

They stared at each other for a few moments before she realized just how high she’d pulled the shirt and how low she’d pulled her jeans and panties. She said, “Ohmygod”, quickly dropped the tail of the shirt, and reached for the panties and jeans. Thomas turned away until she got herself together again.

“OK, you can look now.”

She was a livid pink from her nose all the way down into the neckline of her short shirt.

“Forgot what I was doing there. Sorry, Thomas.”

“Don’t worry about it. Your pictures are about done. Let’s take a look.”

“Gee, it didn’t look like that in my mirror.”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no. It’s just that it makes me look slimmer.”

“It’s an optical illusion.”

“Well, I love the illusion, and I love the tattoo. I’m going to go out and buy some more jeans and tops, no matter what Linda says.”

“How’s that?”

“Oh, Linda said I shouldn’t wear low-rise jeans or my stretch marks will show. They do, I guess, but I want people to see me.”

“They’re not bad. I can hardly see them. You ought to be proud of them, anyway.”

“They get worse down lower.” She blushed again. “I guess you already know that. Why should I be proud?”

“They’re from kids, right?”

“Yes. Two. Why?”

“Some people get tattoos to mark events in their lives, things they want to remember. That’s what I think those marks are – marks of special events.”

“Well, I guess, but most men don’t think the same way.”

“I’m not most men.” He put his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “Well, you happy?”

“Yes, very happy.”

“OK, then. Uh, somebody asks where you got it, you’ll tell them, right? Like I said, I don’t advertise, so a little plug now and then helps.”

“I’ll do that.” Cassandra started for the door, then turned back. “What did you mean that day when you said I was the first person to get one of your designs?”

“I uh, I never left the notebook out there before. Can’t even remember having it there before. You’re the first person to ever see them.”

“You really ought to show them around. You’re very good.”

When she walked out the door, Thomas picked up Hector and scratched him behind the ears.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted. I was really getting to like her. Think we’ll ever see her again? That’d be pretty nice, wouldn’t it, you lazy old cat.”

Hector blinked his big orange eyes and purred.

That night, Cassandra stood in front of her mirror again.

“Cassie, you did good, girl. Wonder if…? No, he’s probably seen thousands of women naked. We wouldn’t have made any impression. Wish it had taken longer. If it had, maybe we’d have gotten to know each other better and …. Oh, well. We look pretty good, don’t you think?” Cassandra licked her index finger and touched it to her hip. “Tsssss. Hot! Definitely sexy, even with all the stretch marks.” She pulled back her shoulders, lifted her breasts, jiggled them up and down, and giggled. “We’re a man killer, honey. They’ll fall all over us when they see our tattoo.” Cassandra let her breasts fall softly to her chest and slumped. “I just wish he’d have noticed, even just a little.”

The sunlight streaming through the bedroom windows slowly brought her to that half-awake, half-asleep state that is so pleasurable when one can stay beneath the covers. Cassandra stretched and brushed her nipple in the process of scratching the itch on her left breast. A tiny little wave of pleasure swept through her body. It had been a long time since she’d felt that. Through closed eyes, she saw Thomas’s face. Her fingers brushed her nipple again.

“Mmmm.”

In her mind, she felt Thomas’s bare hands on her hips and back. The little tingles she’d felt in his shop came back. How would it have felt if he’d touched her breasts? He’d have been as gentle as he was with her hips. Maybe a very light touch, like this?

“Mmmm. Yes.”

He might squeeze softly.

“Ohhhh.”

If he’d touched her nipple….

“Yess. Mmm.”

He might have pinched gently, like Brian did sometimes.

The jolt hit her deep inside her belly.

“Ah!…Oh.”

Cassandra unconsciously parted her thighs and let her fingers slide down over the soft skin of her stomach, then through the tight curls on her mound, then down to her lips. She seldom touched herself there except for bathing and after using the bathroom. This morning, she needed to be touched. Her fingertip parted her lips and gently rubbed. The gasp surprised her. It had been four months, but she didn’t realize until now that she missed it so much.

She was wet and slippery, as she was on most mornings, but it seemed like more. Cassandra moved the fingertip deeper into the warmth and gasped again. She slowly pushed one finger, then two through her lips and deep inside her passage. The full feeling, brought back memories, but not of Brian. Thomas’s smiling face looked at her as his fingers curled inside her and gently massaged. She felt a warmth spreading through her body.

He grinned and moved his fingers up her lips until they touched the little flap of skin at the top. Cassandra groaned as she imagined Thomas gently rubbing her there. She saw his other hand cup her breast and squeeze, then pull gently at the nipple. Her hips arched into his hand, then again. She cried out.

“Now, now.”

Thomas pulled on her nipple again, and rubbed her little button. She gasped and lunged up from the mattress. Waves of sensation raced to her belly and caused a massive contraction. With a final cry, Cassandra clamped her thighs together around her fingers, and pulled her knees to her breasts. As the flooding warmth swept over her body, she drifted back to sleep.

“So, what is my tattooed neighbor doing this afternoon.”

“Linda. You say that like I’m some kind of freak. I’m still the same person.”

“No, you aren’t. You’ve changed. I’m not saying I don’t like it, but you’ve changed.”

“How?”

“Well, those jeans for one thing, and that push-up bra you’re wearing.”

“I want people to see my tattoo, and the bra…, well, this top is cut pretty low so I thought I could use some cleavage. That’s all.”

“That’s all? This from the woman who thought sleeping naked was dirty? That outfit screams ‘come fuck me’. That’s the kind of stuff I wear, not you.”

“Well, maybe I’d like some man to…, well, what you said.”

“Oh my God. I’ve created a nymphomaniac. You got somebody in mind?”

Cassandra blushed.

“Maybe.”

“You’ve got to tell me who it is. Did he say he wants you?”

Cassandra hung her head.

“I don’t think he knows.”

“Honey, one thing you got to learn, now that you’re looking again. They can’t read your mind. The poor dears need a little encouragement besides tight pants and those boobs you’re showing. You been out with him yet?”

“Kind of.”

“What’s that mean, kind of? Where’d you go? Coffee, dinner, I’m thinking probably not back here. I’d know if you brought him back here.”

“Just to his shop.”