Untouchable Ink Tattoo Novels & Stories

It looked like a high-end tattoo machine, but the ink was a special, safe temporary formula that would sit just under the skin for days before fading. He dimmed the basement lights, leaving only the soft glow from the single bulb overhead. The wand hummed to life as he positioned himself behind her. He pressed the tip against the curve of her lower back, just above the dimples, right where her spine met her ass. The first dot landed with a sharp prick, then the letters began to form one by one in precise, rapid strokes. D-A-D-D-Y-S-P-R-O-P-E-R-T-Y. The pain was sharp but controlled, a bright sting that bloomed into a deep, possessive heat. Emma moaned, pushing her back toward the wand, the p

We sprinted across the street, the bell above the door of INK jangled aggressively as we walked in. The place was exactly what you’d expect, loud rock music, neon signs, and a guy with more piercings than teeth cleaning a needle gun behind the counter. He glanced up, taking in the sight of two women, "What can I get for you ladies?" the artist asked, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. "We do not do flash art here, and no, we won't tattoo your dog." "It's for a friend," Claire announced brightly, pointing to me. "She needs a small, single-letter tattoo. Very personal. Very delicate. Immediate appointment preferred. We're on a tight schedule."

Arthur wasn't a professional tattoo artist, but only he could create this tattoo, because this tattoo had an extremely delicate identifying feature that no one could recognize. Henry was afraid that this tattoo would be seen and copied by someone, which would expose their secret. Because only extremely important people in the organization could get this tattoo. Except for Henry, Alex, and Arthur, no one else was allowed to get this tattoo on their hand. However, Henry had taken perfect precautions. He had asked Arthur to apply a special solution on the tattoo, and that would be the only way to identify it if someone tried to fake it.

"Carve the words I say on his forehead - Anthony is innocent." Dave yelled loudly sizzling like a snake when the needle of the tattoo pen pinched his skin. "Do you know Dave, your tattoo artist Mr. Elliott is a blind man and his first experiment is on you. Elliott loves drawing but he could not get an opportunity to work anywhere because of his handicap. I encourage talent in every area and decided to realize his long time wish. Look how beautifully he painted my words on your forehead." Anthony showed Dave a mirror. He was having a lot of fun looking at haphazard dirty sketches on his forehead.

"It's just needles, Cheryl." "Yeah, absolutely not. I have a phobia of needles," I said, gripping my arm. "It won’t hurt that much, I promise. You’ll barely feel it," she assured me. After a ridiculous amount of back and forth, I finally decided to face my fears. I held onto Anna for dear life through the hardest thirty minutes of my existence while the tattoo artist inked Miles Jun-ho Han onto my skin, right above my ribs, with a small purple butterfly beside it—a symbol of how he made me feel.

When I'm inking her skin, I enter another zone where the normal world is dreamlike. My entire focus centers on the flesh beneath my fingers. Tattooing has always been my escape. With her, it's different in so many ways-the softness of her skin, the shiver that occasionally passes along her back and shoulders, and the timbre of her voice. The dark swirls of my past infiltrate her skin just like the ink. But unlike the ink, she absorbs the darkness and turns it light. She's playing havoc with my thoughts and this isn't a good thing. She isn't as malleable as she lets on.

As usual, the expectation and excitement caused her areolas to solidify and she sought Potty for help, however the lady was addressing the craftsman - something as per being educated when the interaction completed - before she pivoted and meandered back out the entryway. "Have you had tattoos previously?" the man pondered, setting up the plate close to his patient. Albeit a speedy look over the Irish young lady's delicate, ruddy body, he snickered, "No, no obviously you haven't. Indeed, it will hurt. Not however much different things you'll do, I'm certain," he smiled at her, "yet significantly more than... puncturing your ears, or new tattoo would." Cold q-tips circumnavigated her neck a fe

People called him the Untouchable king, because for the past twenty -five years no has been able to survive his touch. An ancient curse running through his blood, a curse which turns everyone into stone with just a touch. Forcing Kael Draven to rule his kingdom from behind black leather gloves, he lived with a crown and a curse with a lonely heart. Seraphina Vale never believed the terrifying stories until one careless accident changes everything. When she mistakenly grabs the king bare hands. The world holds its breath. But she didn’t turn to stone.

I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, bouncing slightly on his thighs, stifling a small moan when I felt his shaft harden behind my ass crack. “What about this one?” I leaned forward, squinting at a tattoo I hadn’t noticed before. It looked like a bird… or a dead bird, etched under his bicep. The ink was rough and fuzzy, like it had been done in a rush… no like it was done by a toddler. Adrian glanced at it, then quickly looked away. I didn’t miss the slight expression that flashed across his face. “It’s nothing,” he responded too fast. I leaned closer, mouthing the words written beneath it.

If we were flying like that, it wouldn’t really matter. As I threw on a cute little dress that accentuated my girls, my Feisty tattoo caught my eye in the mirror. I held out my arm and ran my fingers over it. ~Sixteen Years Ago~ “I don’t know, are you really getting tattoos from someone out of their house? Is that even sanitary,” I snapped, smacking Corey’s chest. “It’s the guy though. Like he owns the Inked Rebel shop … he just is doing this for us as a favor. He’s a fan. He knows we’re all still mostly underage,” Jude said, trying to smooth it over.