My Tattoo Itches So Bad Novels & Stories

“So you were thinking why I got tats?” “Does it hurt?” “It fucking hurt. Though they will give you topical anesthesia, try Irezumi or Batok.” “Why do people enjoy pain?” “Sometimes people endure physical pain to numb the pain inside. The one untreatable by pain medication.” “I wanna get a tattoo.” “Why?” He was quick to ask me. “Just a small tattoo like a script.” “No tattoo while you’re still pregnant.” “Oh, I forgot.” I hid my smile. “Come here, baby.”

I kept at it, calling out whenever I had the breath, hoping desperately that someone would hear. Almost an hour later, I was exhausted and uncomfortable in ways I hadn't thought possible. My thighs were itching, probably from insect bites or contact with some plant. My neck was itching too, and I couldn't scratch any of it. Being paralyzed was annoying enough without adding unscratchable itches to the mix. 'This is it. This is my personal hell. Not fire and brimstone, just eternal itching I can't reach. Satan's really gotten creative with the torment options.'

" She was all smiles as we left; I reclined her seat so she could lay flat and not put pressure on her new tattoos and took her home and put her to bed. She had a tendency of getting a fever after each tattoo for some strange reason so I gave her some medicine before I tucked her in. While she slept I caught up on some things; like the third fucker who is now finding life difficult in solitary after losing a couple teeth and the use of an arm for a while. I'm thinking I'd let them rest for a little while before fucking their shit up again; spread it out a little you know so no one grew suspicious. I fiddled around with some design ideas for a ring for her and fielded a call from my mother wh

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

“I need the ink.” “What colors?” He asked. “Each pile gets a black. The second one gets three.” Alec did as I asked. “The fourth is a water color tattoo so I need one pink, purple, blue, green and yellow. This one is red and orange.” “Four tattoos today?” Alex asked. “Yeah, they are all big tattoos and not much pain tolerance.” “Mine is itching like crazy.” “Turn around and lift your shirt up.” I said rolling my eyes. Grabbing the numbing lotion, I put it on his back. He even keeled for me but I caught him looking at me in the mirror.

Ever had told me she owned a tattoo parlor, but for some reason, I never anticipated she would have tattoos, primarily because pure silver extract had to be added to the ink. Otherwise, our bodies would reject the ink and heal around it. But using silver made the normal pain of getting a tattoo about a hundred times worse.

“Or are you practicing for when the kids bring home headlice?” “Oh my gawd,” Aislen gaped at him. “Headlice.” “Yeah, it’s totally a thing,” he told her. “I get a lot of mummies in for tattoos, and they tend to do it in pairs or small groups. It’s like a bonding thing. They sit, I tattoo them, they talk to each other. Stuff like little Jenny Junior brought home headlice for the fifth time this year and now the mummy-getting-Jenny’s name tattooed with a rose has to treat the whole family for headlice, and wash all the bedding, again,” he put stress on the again as he opened the vanity and retrieved a face cloth. “I don’t listen to a lot of what they’re saying unless I think they’re talking to

Slowly the pain ebbed away and my neck felt numb with the occasional stinging. “Hazel? There is something on your neck?” Lorena stopped dabbing the wound and I felt my neck. The burn was gone but I couldn’t feel anything. Everyone was staring at me now and Cassie handed me a mirror from he purse. On my neck, was a freshly done tattoo, of a blood red eye next to a black crescent moon, intricately designed, with every detail standing out. I rubbed at it but it didn’t come off. Maybe the ritual did work.

Nathaniel saw the tattoo on Mango's body. It was a big tattoo that stretches from her upper body to her lower body. She was not a woman who liked tattoo. Why did she do this? Was she trying to change herself? Or were there any other reasons? He remembered that the doctor had said before that Mango was allergic to cephalosporin. How could she not use anti-inflammatory for having such a big tattoo? What exactly was the reason for her to be able to endure all of this? "Is there any special meaning for the tattoo on your body?"

he said. Aaron motioned for me to sit down in the tattoo chair, and he started setting up his tools and supplies. Within minutes, I felt the needle prick. As the needle prickled my skin, a sharp yet strangely exhilarating sensation spread through my body. Each puncture of the needle felt like a tiny, concentrated burst of pain. However, it was a pain that I willingly embraced, knowing that it would result in a permanent work of art etched onto my skin. With every passing moment, I could feel a mix of adrenaline and anticipation building up as the tattoo slowly came to life. As Aaron applied ink to my skin, he worked skillfully. A smile appeared on my face when he finished. The result was fla