Ada’s Tattoo part 1

Ada’s Tattoo, part 1

Ada had been reminiscing of late, that had been the beginning of it all. The ten year anniversary of the last time they had all been together was coming up. It was late spring and would soon be finals week. She remembered what their last finals week had been like, in her senior year. It had been intense and uncertain for some of them. They had intended to party just as intensely but it didn’t work out that way. The party had broken up early, amid many promises to get together again regularly. Most of them, including Ada, left the next morning, traveling home to family and other celebrations. Those free and glorious college years were over and the feelings those times were imbued with had been fading even before the last party had begun.

Her entire college experience had been more or less a running party. She had shared it with a small core of friends plus acquaintances who had rotated in and out. They weren’t too wild but there were various hijinks that were enough to give the group a reputation without getting them into actual trouble. Besides, they held their grades up enough to be respectable, for the most part. Enough of the escapades had been of Ada’s inspiration to give her an inadvertent nickname and so she became Jinx to her closest friends, the odd spelling had been her idea, giving it a double entendre.

Looking back on it a decade later Ada wondered. She wasn’t sure if they had simply been too young to see what life after school was going to be like or too insincere to worry that their promises were so empty. As it turned out there were no reunions, no letters, and hardly any phone calls. There was Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Even that was not very satisfactory considering, but it was at least some kind of communication. Most of her old friends had spouses and children and all of them seemed to be nothing like the kids they had been.

As for Ada, life had not carried her where she thought it might. Instead of creative writing or even some aspect of journalism she was managing a data entry pool. The faces came and went but she remained. It was the down side of nepotism. She worked for her uncle and though the position was secure and the recompense for her trouble was very good she could not quit on a whim without disappointing family members. It was work but she was more numbed by it than she realized.

Ada had not married and had conscientiously avoided pregnancy. That avoidance and her stated intention to continue in that regard had cost her the longest relationship she had so far managed and been followed by an ill-advised rebound relationship. Both were history now and she was in a funk, hence her melodramatic and wistful recollections.

On a whim Ada decided that the best course of action would be to get the fuck out of town. She managed to get some vacation time from work and having done that she was committed. She had a workweek, bracketed by two weekends, of unscheduled time to herself. A road trip would be the perfect diversion, she thought, besides she couldn’t stand to look at her own four walls anymore for a while. She was going to just drive south from her Portland apartment and get on the interstate. She would be utterly spontaneous for a week and still have a few days to get back in the groove. Hopefully she would feel more energized and positive and the groove wouldn’t feel so much like a rut by then.

It was on the way to Salem that she decided to stop in Corvallis. That was where her old school was and if they didn’t care to celebrate the tenth anniversary of their graduation she would do it without them. Once in Corvallis she took a room not far from her destination, which was a small café and bar that had been one of their main hangouts. It was unseasonably summery and warm, she didn’t overdress and she walked to the café. There was no hurry, her time was her own.

The place was almost the same. Two bay windows bracketed a door that was inset a few feet. Inside there would be two tables in front of each large window and outside was much the same but the tables were the common round steel café style, they were painted antique white. The main difference Ada noticed was that the outside of the building had been painted recently and the canvas awnings over the outdoor tables were new. That’s just what the place needed, she thought. The café was not very busy, the outdoor tables were lonelier yet and that suited her mood and purpose nicely. She sat and waited, in a minute or so a waitress brought her water and a menu. She ordered a turkey sandwich on white bread with potato salad and a pickle on the side. The waitress was nice but not particularly interested. Ada had a thought but let it go and sipped her water. The thought came back though, it was a bit of insightful wonder. Why is it that so many people are like that around me? It isn’t how it used to be. I wonder what I could do about it. She didn’t dwell on it long, it wasn’t that important, she had plenty of friends. Her late lunch arrived and she turned her mind to the old days while she ate. Her thoughts were a repeat of what had been on her mind for the last week or so. She missed her college buddies and the way they had been. She wasn’t going to do anything about it though, she had her life and they had theirs. Things were different, it was like her world had gotten smaller.

After she ate she ordered two cocktails. She would indulge her new passion and have a scotch old fashioned with a twist of orange. The other drink was for “old friends”. She ordered a gin martini. That was what Cindi drank. Ada smiled at her recollection of Cindi. She was a brunet and kept her hair short and boyish. Ada saw her in her mind’s eye wearing capris under a full cotton skirt, on top she wore a white blouse and she would be wearing flats on her feet. Cindi took pictures none stop everywhere they went and said she “adored” martinis. She used the word adore quite a bit but she was also creative and fun to be around. Her martini, set across the table from Ada, would represent all of Ada’s old friends so she would not be alone at her private celebration. She wondered what ever became of all those hundreds of photographs.

Ada sat at her table in the afternoon sun and remembered the things they did and how they felt about the world when they had all been so young. So went her unofficial and somewhat spiteful personal pilgrimage to her long out of reach past.

She had ordered the meal and walked to the café because she knew she was going to drink. She had left her car in the motel lot, it was fine there. She was on her third drink before too long and new insights were no longer easily possible. Food in her stomach notwithstanding, well into her third old fashioned she was feeling it.

Time had passed in that elusive way it does when one is reminiscing, it had grown dark and she hadn’t noticed. “Old friends” had not touched their drink where it sat on the white café table. Whiter still was the sweater that draped over her shoulders against the cool night air. It framed the strap top she wore and between them could be seen some of the colorful tattoo on her right shoulder. She only realized that she had closed her eyes when they had suddenly opened. Ada found herself sitting alone under an overhead lamp looking at the untouched glass across from her, she sighed and thought about calling it a night. Nothing had come of her unplanned gesture and it now seemed meaningless and stale. Perhaps she had secretly hoped someone she knew from the old days would have seen her but even the wait staff were all different now. ‘What else could one expect?’ She mused.

That was when he showed up. A man about her age wearing jeans and a light jacket came from within the café. He approached her table with two drinks in his hand and without a word set one to her right and one to her left on the small round table. Sitting himself to her left as if he naturally belonged there he raised the glass and said, “To those we left behind.”

Ada took in the new arrangement at a glance and smiling she raised her glass.

“To them”, she said and downed what was left of her third drink. Something about him was charming, even attractive.

“I guess I’m a little obvious, sitting here with the ghosts of graduation past.”

I’m Mike and there should be a fresh drink…there it is now.”

As he spoke a waitress came out with a fresh drink for her. Ada took note that the shift had changed since she had arrived, she had not seen this woman before.

“A gentlemen inside…” she began but stopped when she recognized him sitting there. “Oh, it’s you.” Realizing that further comment was unnecessary and feeling suddenly jealous she retreated back into the café with Ada’s empty glass. Mike had been talking with her inside and she had been drawn to him, taking it as flirtation. When he had been ready to approach Ada he ordered the drink for her at the bar. As luck would have it though she had the outside tables. He inwardly shrugged off the faux pas. Ada caught the attitude in the waitress’s eyes but passed it off as normal contentiousness between two women when a man is involved. The waitress had liked him, she usually dreaded flirtatious customers. She wondered if he would still be there when she got off.

“I hope I’m not intruding. Shall we let our respective ghosts make their own introductions?” he asked.

“You’re not intruding at all and yes they should be able to sort themselves out well enough. I’m Jinx, thanks for this.” She said and raised the new glass to her lips. She was glad to no longer be the only living person at the table. She suddenly felt warmer as well. Ada sniffed the air trying to detect his cologne or after shave but all she could smell were the normal expected odors of their surroundings. An occasional whiff of hot frying oil, the unmistakable odor of canvas duck from the new awning, and beneath all else the smell of auto exhaust. Nevertheless something about him had her full attention though it didn’t seem to be a fragrance. It bothered her a little that she had no clue what it might be.

Mike began to talk about Corvallis and what he liked about it. Ada followed suit, showing that she knew the town well.

The question of why he seemed to dominate her thoughts slipped from Ada’s mind as she began to really enjoy his company.

Her eyes had been closed when he had walked by to enter the café. The colorful Tattoo caught his attention and he had taken a table inside at first to consider the tall slender woman out there and how he might approach her. Mike had been wrong before about a tattoo. He had to endure those feelings yet again because of it and he didn’t want to make that mistake with this woman. Things had been like this with him for a while now and he had finally devised a plan, a solution, but if her tattoo wasn’t right for it he would walk away. The waitress had his attention now as well though he didn’t know why.

It took Mike a little while to ask Ada about her tattoo, in the meantime he made light and casual conversation. They spoke of the town and the college both present and past but never about themselves. He took his time with her, she wasn’t thinking clearly.

Ada had begun to imagine being with him, having him and letting him have her. She felt the oddness of it but she also felt daring in it, she was becoming a little excited. The thought of love at first sight entered her mind. She found herself being perfectly willing to show a little more of her tattoo to him.

Mike knew that if he suggested she would show him much more. He didn’t though, the whole idea was to become normal again and the advantage wasn’t worth the price he was paying. Besides, he didn’t want to allow her to find herself being lead along, not yet anyway. She needn’t expose too much of herself for him to see that it was what he had been looking for, a woman in two dimensions inked upon a woman in three dimensions. The tattoo was more than a simple woman though, she was splendid. A Geisha reposed at tea. She was richly colored and presented the calmness of culture and training one might expect from that ancient culture. Her tattoo was a work of art, not that he needed it to be. The decoration covered Ada’s shoulder and upper right breast. Mike was very pleased that the figure was so large, it would be interesting to watch if his plan worked. They talked and drank together as late evening slipped into night, he changed the subject often, keeping her a little off balance. She slurred the odd word or two as the alcohol worked, her mind playing out fantasies about them together. Eventually he asked if she wanted to see his tattoo. He said it in such a suggestive way that she was certain it must be rather sexual in nature, a thing that pleased her much more than it usually would. When he slipped his jacket and shirt sleeve down she saw it was just a large silvery dot of about three inches in diameter on his right upper arm, just below the shoulder.

“I don’t get it, what does it mean?” she said slowly. Her eyes were riveted to it, her breath quickened.

“That is Sassy Sally, or what is left of her after a fashion.” Ada felt her hand wanting to reach out and touch it.

“I still don’t get it. What do you mean? Is it some kind of expressionism?” She asked, concentrating on the words.

“I can’t really explain it and you wouldn’t likely believe it if I could. I’d have to show you and it would have to be in private.”

“Of course it would.” She laughed, then she shook her head as if to signify she wasn’t interested. She was interested though. She was very interested but she tried not to let it show.

Mike covered his shoulder again and watched her obvious disappointment that it had been removed from view.

“Well drink up then, I’m going to call it a night. It’s been very pleasant and thank you for your company.”

Mike finished his drink and reaching across the table he took up the untouched drink he had arrived with and held it up. Ada sensing the end of the impromptu encounter did likewise but she didn’t want their time together to end. She was teetering though between letting it end, now that the dot tattoo was gone and doing anything to keep him there so she could see it again.

“Final toast, to the mysterious supernatural.”

Ada raised her eyebrows and said, “Really? OK, whatever. The mysterious supernatural.” She was truly confused by the subject of the toast and lost track of her thoughts. There had been desire and panic at war in her and she may have regained herself but for the last drink.

They downed the drinks and she spluttered a bit, huffed out her breath, closed her eyes and teetered in her seat. She had just done her seventh drink at a single throw and it had been almost undiluted gin. The drink was stronger than she expected, and it hit her hard.

Ada laughed, said, “Supernatural indeed.” And laughed again.

“You probably aren’t the type to take up a quest anyway, oh well it was just a thought.”

“What do you mean by that?” she slurred, trying to keep the conversation alive.

“Go home Jinx. Put yourself and the Geisha to bed. It never happened.” He rose from his seat and was turning to go.

Ada reached for him while saying, “OK wait.” She lurched though and he had to catch her. It was the first time he had touched her and there was more than a thrill in it.

“Wait for what? I told you, only in private.”

“Yes well we can discuss that after you take me to my room. It’s not far.” She said, still in his arms.

Mike smiled and said, “Point the way.” He felt he had been right to underplay his hand by offering to leave. She was obviously feeling the effects of his tattoo and he knew he could stop trying. He thought about just carrying her, she was slight enough to not be a burden but he reasoned that the movement might make her seasick in her condition and that wouldn’t do. He needed her to watch or she wouldn’t understand what had happened or what she must do in her turn. His grasp of Ada’s hand as he steadied her excited her more and more as they walked. Ada was not at all ready to let him get away as she led the way to her room but she was confused as to how and why she was so avid and began to have misgivings. She could not hold onto her doubts long enough to act on them though and a moment later she wanted him to move in with her. A few moments later she realized how unnatural and out of proportion her desire for him was. Once again she almost rebelled but only for a few seconds, after that she would do anything for him and had to have him. He has me under some kind of spell or charm, she thought but at the same time she loved being under it. She loved him. I didn’t come here to sleep with some stranger, she affirmed but she could feel the flow of events and her uncharacteristic desire carrying her toward that very thing. As they walked his tattooed arm brushed her shoulder every few steps. Ada finally made the connection between the tattoo, its location on the arm that kept touching her shoulder, and her sense that she was under some kind of compulsion. Her response though was to deliberately align her shoulder for the following contact, she was that far gone. It took about twenty minutes to reach her door. Her head had cleared of the alcohol a little by then but her desire for him was greater than ever, greater than any other thought. Ada was keen to be alone with Mike, all of her reservations had left her. Once inside he sat on the upholstered chair and Ada sat not far from him on the bed.

“Is this private enough? Can you explain it now?” She said with a smile.

“I said I was going to show you, not explain.”

Mike took his wallet out and after fishing out a photo he handed it to her. While she looked at it he removed his jacket, shirt, and undershirt. She noticed how fit he looked and how hairy his chest was but most of her attention was once again on the revealed tattoo. She stared at it and became avid. Once again it seemed to be something about the silvery tattoo, her attention was drawn to it immediately and her breathing quickened noticeably. She tried to concentrate on the photo in her hand, it showed something entirely different but more or less the same color.

“What is this?” The photo showed an arm tattooed with an image of a brunette nude woman perched upon a thousand pound munition as if it were a carnival ride. Underneath the bomb in a fluid it read Sassy Sally and the backdrop of the scene was the nose of a large aircraft.

“That is Sassy Sally, she is what is known as nose art. The plane is the bomber my grandfather flew in during world war two. He had the same tattoo, my dad had it, and I have or had it.”

“Whose arm is in the picture, your dad’s or your granddads?”

“That’s my arm in the picture. That’s my tattoo.”

Ada looked at the picture and looked at his arm. She looked every bit as confused as she felt, nothing was making sense and on top of it all she felt what she was beginning to realize was a desire to undress for him, to try to seduce him.

“Why am I continuously bewildered by what you say and why do I want you more than you seem to want me? This is the strangest seduction I have ever been a party to.” She shook her head as if to clear it but it didn’t help.

“That’s because I’m not trying to seduce you, I want the geisha.”

“What?! Wait, what?!”

“It is confusing isn’t it?” he said. Knowing he should stop leading up to it and just make his move he rose and sat next to her on the bed.

“Yes, stop talking.” She said. Her hands went to him on their own and she began moving her fingers through the hair of his chest while she kissed him.

For a while after that it looked like any other passionate affair. He fondled her breasts through her clothing while they kissed. She pulled at the hair at the back of his head to leverage their kissing. He pulled at the clasp of her skirt. She bit his lips. He slid his hands under her clothing. She grabbed at his ass to press him closer. In due course they divested themselves of all clothing. Ada was no longer confused, she wanted him and didn’t want to wait any longer. He was hard against her belly, touching her everywhere with his hands, driving her wild. She spread her thighs for him and Mike, positioning himself, slid easily into her. Ada thrust her hips at him, expecting the same from him but he had stopped. He seemed to be concentrating on his weird tattoo.

“What’s going on? Don’t stop! Why have you stopped?!”

“There are simply no words, you have to watch. Look, I think it’s going to happen.”

“Of course it’s happening! Fuck me!”

He placed his index finger on her lips and said, “Watch my tattoo.”

He turned slightly on her so she could see his arm better. She wriggled a little trying to get them going again, unable to make sense of anything anymore. It was all so insane but finally she did as she was told and watched the tattoo. Unbelievably she discerned some kind of unnatural movement within it. In the next moments she doubted her sanity. It was not just moving, the tattoo was alive! A face appeared within it and then a head emerged. The large dot tattoo was sprouting a head and worse than that the head had horns and a woolly beard. Horns! The horror and shock of what she was seeing sobered her.

“For the love of god! What the fuck is that!? What did you put in my drink, LSD?”

“No, No, it’s not drugs and you’re not crazy. Nothing bad is going to happen, I swear it. As a matter of fact this is probably going to be the best and farthest out sex you will ever have but watch or you won’t understand and then you won’t understand the quest.”

“Oh the quest, I almost forgot.” She laughed at the edge of hysteria.

By then the rest of it had emerged. A figure was standing beside the large dot, stretching its arms. Its legs though had hooves, hooves at the bottom of woolly legs! Not human legs either, it had animal legs! And, and, an erection! LSD, she thought frantically, I’m tripping. I simply must be. I have to calm down, can’t have a bad trip here.

Both Ada and Mike were entirely captivated now by the emerging scene. Him in erotic and expectant fascination, her in helpless terror. The priapic satyr that had separated itself from the dot bent and reached into the dot to help a nude brunette to her feet. Once she was clear he spread the dot out by pulling its edges until the image of the aircraft from the photo was clear to be seen. It had the same large bomb and the words, Sassy Sally written on the fuselage under the bomb. The satyr lifted the woman by her waist into her place upon the bomb and patted her rather red ass cheek. Ada didn’t remember her ass being red in the photo. As she watched it the creature looked about and seemed to see something interesting because it began to move down Mike’s arm with a purpose. Thinking fast, Mike took hold of Ada’s hands and held her. She realized instantly what was about to transpire and began to whimper and shrink away, not that there was anywhere to go with Mike on top of her.

“It’s OK, it’s OK. He won’t hurt you! He just wants her, the geisha. Look at Sally, does she look hurt? She looks better than ever.” Ada was no judge of that, her eyes were fixed on the two dimensional march of the satyr as it left Mike’s flesh and moved onto and along hers. Up Ada’s arm and over her shoulder he went, his priapic phallus leading the way. More than that, Ada was appalled that she could actually feel the hooves on her skin as he moved. The geisha turned her head to watch his approach and he grew in size to match her as he came, as if he were traveling forward from a distance. The formerly staid woman smiled at the beast and turning her upper body she opened her kimono to bare a single breast to him. Ada’s view was at a difficult angle but she could see it all as it transpired upon her upper body. Mike yet held Ada’s hands as he lay upon her in a kind of relaxed pushup position to watch the action intently. He was glad that he could no longer feel the filthy thing or what it was about to do but he was turned on watching it with that knowledge. All of this transpired at a normal rate of action, there wasn’t a lot of time for Ada to think about it or reason it out.

This has to be an acid trip. I’m hallucinating, I must be. But I can feel it! She thought in those quick moments.

Nothing in any of this, as surrealistic as it was, could have prepared Ada for what happened next though for as the satyr reached the geisha he enveloped her bare breast with his alien hand and Ada felt it at her own breast and nipple. Her nipple stiffened at the sensation, as did the other when the thing reached into the kimono to claim it as well.

“Oh god! My mind is going! It’s going.” Her breath was coming fast and hard but it wasn’t all panic. The sensation was exquisitely exciting and sexual excitement was once again mingling with her every thought.

“Just wait.” Mike said. She had lost herself so much in the bizarre and sensuous tableau that she had forgotten that she was yet in mid coitus. Now she was suddenly and newly aware of it and sexually excited beyond all reason, beyond any former experience. Her automatic response was to once again push her hips up at his as she tried again to extract pleasure from the stiff member that lay within her most precious grasp.

“Shut up and fuck me you bastard! It’s too much and not enough!” she yelled as she strained to satisfy the insistent and undeniable need that raged in her.

Still though, Mike held back. He had felt all of this and what was to come more than once as a man and in some inexplicable way as a woman. Heretofore he had been unable to escape from it and the compulsions that were part of it. He was certain that he could put all of that behind him at last now and he was going to enjoy watching Jinx in the throes of what he knew was going to happen. At least she was a woman and the satyr would be better suited with her than it had been with him.

The satyr didn’t kiss the geisha nor did he relinquish his hold on her breasts. He helped her to her knees before him and she herself lifted the kimono out of the way. During this Ada’s mind and body raced. She watched, unable to look away, unnerved by the feel of the creature on her body and aghast at the thought that she could feel hands on her breasts but not Mike’s hands, he wasn’t touching them. That was right though because no man’s hands had ever made her feel this way. It must be the, and the word came to her mind shockingly, satyr! He got onto his animal knees behind what had once been Ada’s innocent and charming tattoo. Do it! Do it! Her mind, body, and voice cried out. She felt his woolly knees dig into the side of her breast but that sensation was altogether lost when the imp thrust into her, going full speed from the very beginning. In reality the geisha was receiving him but Ada felt it all as she had anticipated and desired in her outrageous lust. She panted and rocked her hips trying to keep up, she grunted and groaned. Her first orgasm was sudden and intense but it was obscured quickly by the unceasing assault on her vagina. Mike had watched and began his thrusting to match the beast. He couldn’t match the damned thing’s tempo though so Ada was at times double fucked as one would push into her while the other withdrew only to ram into her again in his turn. The intense and unnatural carnal act went on at some length and Ada came a second time, almost passing out, her breathing ragged. Mike came in her but kept right on going nevertheless, or was it him? She had lost track of what she was doing with her arms and legs. She had ceased watching the beast as it took the geisha, her head pressed back hard into the pillows that her hands made fists into. Her knees were bent to allow her toes to clinch into the sheets and her hips had a mind of their own. Ada was reaching the very end of herself and still the beast fucked her like a machine. Still she couldn’t help but respond. She had to do something but what? This was wrong in every imaginable way yet still she felt her body rising to a new height, an impossible height. Opening her eyes once more she stared wide eyed to see the geisha still being taken by the satyr, her hair undone and hanging free, her kimono askew to the point of draping off of her now mostly exposed body. She felt shocked anew at what her eyes saw, knowing it was true but unable to come to terms with it rationally. Mike still held himself on his outstretched arms, watching the passion of the two characters avidly, no longer bothering to restrain Ada’s hands. Ada placed a trembling hand upon the satyr and stroked his body and ass, anything to make him finish! She stroked him again and panted, “Cum in her already you fucking devil”. Seeing this mike redoubled his efforts. The satyr actually looked at Ada and grinned, then he flooded himself into the womanly tattoo. Somehow mike was coming again and Ada who had been rocked till her whole body ached came like it was her own personal magnitude ten earthquake.

Mike rolled off of her, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t know if she had passed out or fallen into a deep sleep any more than he knew as much about himself when he had first received the satyr. He rose and covered her, she was soaked with sweat and their fluids. Ada’s breath was deep and even as the satyr drew at the edges of the tattoo until only a large colorful dot remained. “Sayonara.” He said to the thing as it disappeared into the dot with yet another lover. Not waiting to get dressed he went to the mirror in the bath to look at Sally. She really did look great, absolutely glowing. Her hair wasn’t as neat as it had been and her ass had that new color but he couldn’t complain about that anymore. He had complained plenty while she had gotten that color. Getting fucked like a woman on a regular basis was bad enough but he had become accustomed to it, to his chagrin. Being awoken in the night to find himself being fucked like a woman was worse but he figured he should have known by then not to fight against the thing. Being spanked by the little bastard the day before had been the final straw. He was finally rid of it now though. It bothered him a little that he had passed the damned thing onto this woman but what else could he have done. He could’ve gone on like that, always on edge sexually, always flirting and chasing women with the sex drive of a seventeen year old. Knowing that they all were affected by the presence of the thing, they all would want him yet also knowing that he would utterly loose himself each time. The satyr would emerge from the dot with Sally and fuck her at length every time he had any kind of sex. Even normal masturbation had been lost to him. Maddeningly though he would feel it as if he were Sally, a woman. More than that it was so far out of proportion that he would hardly know what he was doing. A few times the woman of the moment had disengaged to watch as he thrashed about moaning and crying out in ecstasy. He could never remove his shirt either, lest someone see the inexplicable sex act as it transpired on his body. The personal indignities had eventually outweighed the easy conquests though and he wondered if he would ever rid himself of the memory of those horrible hands on his breasts. At that thought he pressed the heels of his hands into his temples, squeezed his eyes shut, and said through clenched teeth, “it’s over, it’s over, it’s over.”

What Mike didn’t notice in his relief and anguish was the bit of a tummy Sally was showing and that there was more color to her then was right. He would see it soon enough though when she really began to show and he would know the out of control sexual feelings again in time.

The mage who had woven the spell that created the satyr had made the creature potent in more ways than one. It had been intended for one particular target who would never be rid of it. That person, Cleo, was a former student. She had fallen out of his favor, meaning of course that she would no longer submit to his rather bizarre sexual appetites, especially his use of magic on her during sex. Much earlier the master had tattooed Cleo but not with simple ink. His spell instructed her body to produce melanin in the form of an image, in her case the image was Ariadne within a labyrinth. The image wasn’t on or in her skin, it was her skin and any damage to the tattoo would heal, restoring the image. He gave her the beautiful tattoo as a gift to please her and it was a great effort on his part to create it. Later though he created the satyr which he made from his own body and mind. He was a sentient creature with a will of his own who would sexually dominate her Ariadne. He was imbued with a powerful aphrodisiacal love charm that Cleo and those around her would be affected by. Most importantly though the satyr spell awoke other tattoo images who were then also subject to his charmed presence. The satyr was the embodiment of the spell and with him went all of the power of the spell. The recipient of the satyr would sympathetically experience whatever happened to their tattoo whenever the satyr was active and any overt sexual activity would activate him. The rest of the time he remained dormant and hidden within the tattoo he had awoken.

The way in which the mage actually put the satyr on Cleo was tricky since she would no longer go near him for fear of his notorious spitefulness. She didn’t want to be involved with men at all after him and was having her pleasures with women. The mage snared one of her lovers and placed the woman in a hypnotized trance. He affixed the dormant satyr within her tattoo of a druid witch, compressing it into a tiny thing and hiding it in the figure’s eye. Before he released her he instructed her to go directly to Cleo when she became aroused. She was his mule and carried the satyr to his former pupil almost immediately unaware that she was doing so. Once they were together they could not resist the aphrodisiac charm and so quickly fell into his trap.

The spell was extremely complex and burdensome to wield, it also required that the spiteful mage endow the satyr with part of himself to give him life. The result being that by the end of his task he had thoughtlessly burned himself out, losing forever the greater part of his power. It was his former student Cleo, the unfortunate recipient of his greatest work, who ruined him though. Even distracted as she was with her new sexual compulsions she was able to utterly cast him down, meaning she left him thoroughly impotent.

There were some unintended aspects of the satyr spell that would never be corrected once it was deployed. The creature was only intended to pass from his carrier host to Cleo where he would remain. He did not however lose his ability to pass to other hosts and would do so not entirely predictably. He favored female figures, especially those who were in some state of undress, but would go to comely male and female figures as well as the occasional animal. It seemed that the better and more intricate the art work the more likely he was to go to it. Also, he was not intended to reproduce but in fact he did reproduce himself. Like Cleo’s tattoo the satyr was formed using melanin but in his case the donor was the Mage himself. When he climaxed during his liaisons he left behind a fragment of the mage. The host’s body would not reject it but rather maintained the physical integrity of it and so it maintained satyr’s body and would do so indefinitely. If he were to be tempted away to another host though the former host’s body would seize upon the remnant fragment, his semen if you will, and slowly restore the satyr from it as if it were damaged tissue. In the later part of that process a new dormant phase would begin and at the end of it a new mature satyr would emerge.

Mike and Ada were far down stream in the chain of consequences from the original spell. If the old mage could have known about them though he would have simply laughed at their fate. He had created a new STD, (sexually transmitted demon). Their bodies would begin to produce melanin that would eventually reproduce the satyr. Sassy Sally would swell at her belly which would darken to the color of the satyr that was being restored but only as fast as Mike’s body created the melanin required. Later she would not give birth, she would be enveloped into a new dot out of which in time would emerge both her and the next satyr to recommence their carnal liaisons and his sexual compulsions. The process didn’t usually begin though until the satyr was transferred to another host. He would have a little vacation and then it would all begin again.

Ada awoke alone in her room. She was desperately thirsty. Laying there in the rumpled bed she realized that her head hurt already with the coming hangover. Staggering to the toilet she dropped unceremoniously onto the seat to let her urine flow then standing again she rinsed her face and filled the water glass. While she sipped the water she looked into the mirror to take stock. She had been seriously fucked, sex like she hadn’t known existed. The mirror confirmed that the satyr had remained with her, he was hers now. It was both appalling and fabulous. Ada felt far sexier than she had ever felt and was fairly certain she would be as irresistible as she had found Mike to be. Her body was still humming with the effects of her orgasms. It wasn’t like any afterglow she had ever experienced before though, it was more of a low comfortable burn. There was a fire in her that she knew would flare up again. She wondered what it would take to fan it.

“Wowwww.” She sighed at her reflection and the direction of her thoughts. “What are you two up to in there?” she asked the blue green spot near her clavicle. “Mysterious supernatural indeed!”

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