Spine Tattoo Pain Scale Novels & Stories

He felt as if there was a weight of a thousand pounds on his back, and the terrible pain of his bones breaking made him scream involuntarily. "M-Mr. Ballard, please have mercy! I… I won't do it again! Please let me go!" Tanner was convulsing with pain as he begged Sebastian, his voice hoarse. He was sure that if Sebastian doubled the force he was exerting on him, his spine would be completely crushed.

Made sense to me. Monique produced a vibrator and gave me a fast orgasm, almost all orgasms fast for a needy slave like me. Then the artist started the tattoo. It was painful, but other things I experienced as a slave had prepared me for pain. Spankings, nipple clamps, being confined in positions for long times; even orgasm denial was a type of pain. She worked for a couple minutes, wiped blood away with a clean cloth to clear the field, then go again. I let myself go into sub space, the needle becoming an annoying throbbing as much as it was painful.

I begrudgingly accepted, "no funny business." He hummed his agreement under his breath and brought the cold leather to the base of my spine. I hadn't realized how low the zip was. His knuckle grazed the groves of my spine in the gentlest of touches but my body reacted as if it had been assaulted. I jerked forward with an audible gasp as a violent shiver raced down my bare back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hiss wrapped around my lungs, constricting the organ until drawing in a breath became painful. But I didn't mind the pain. The pain was delicious. The pain was torture. I craved more of it.

Satisfied, I grabbed the heavy white towel from the nearby rack, draped it over my arm, and leaped slowly back over to the edge of the steaming marble tub. I carefully lowered my bruised body down, sitting directly on the wide, warm marble edge right behind his massive back. Now that I was sitting so close to his bare skin, the thick steam cleared for a brief second, and I noticed something that made my eyes widen in surprise. The massive, intricate tattoo covering his spine wasn't just a random pattern; it was a highly detailed portrait of a beautiful woman. However, because of the dark bullet holes and the swirling water, I could not get a clear look at her facial features.

I said. “ No baby. Tank is doing yours. He does all the ol’e lady marks. We don’t trust anyone else. Mark can do mine. He does good work.” Viper said. Tank wipes off my shoulder and the top part of my chest. “ Sabine, since this is your first tattoo I’m going to walk you through it. It shouldn’t be painful. Just a mild burning sensation. If at any time you feel pain or need to stop just tell me. We will stop immediately and take a break.” Tank said. “ Thank you, Tank. I’m ready when you are.” I said. Tank got his tattoo gun ready, dipping it in black ink. He tells me he is going to start with the outline of the bike first and work his way out. I don’t question him. I don’t need to.

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

Silence. I scream as loud and high-pitched as I can. His punishment is swift as a hard slap from his hand lands on my already sore ass. It cuts off the scream instantly because I'm fighting through the pain just to breathe. Damn that one hurt like hell. I get about thirty seconds of silence before the hum of the tattoo gun starts up. I can't help it and tighten my entire body in dread. This can't be happening to me. How wrong I am.

Silence. I scream as loud and high-pitched as I can. His punishment is swift as a hard slap from his hand lands on my already sore ass. It cuts off the scream instantly because I’m fighting through the pain just to breathe. Damn that one hurt like hell. I get about thirty seconds of silence before the hum of the tattoo gun starts up. I can’t help it and tighten my entire body in dread. This can’t be happening to me. How wrong I am.

Chapter 2 Freya POV “Oh fuck that stings,” I gasped the second the needle hit my skin, the sharp bite digging deep into the softest part of my inner thigh. My fingers dug hard into the leather arms of the chair and my back arched right off it before I could stop myself. The pain burned hot and immediate, spreading out in sharp little waves that made my whole leg tense up, but right underneath that sting the constant deep vibration from the tattoo gun hummed straight through my flesh and settled heavy and throbbing right between my spread thighs.

Tracing the tattoos on his chest, I tried to count his scars to distract myself, but it was difficult to determine where many of them ended and others began. “All these tattoos … why did you get them?” His fingers trailed up my spine and continued to my neck, then higher up, tangling in my hair. His lips brushed my forehead, and I peered up at him. Was this simulated affection? Simulated tenderness? “Pain and pleasure,” he said in a low voice. “I can feel those like anybody else, maybe even stronger.” “But if you feel pain even stronger than others, why would you submit yourself to having a needle pierce your skin over and over again for many hours? Why do you go into the cage? Why do you se