Robby Tries To Get On With His Business

“You look like shit.” The blunt words and raised eyebrows provoked little more than an apathetic shrug, grumble, and sip of the coffee in Robby’s hand as he got in.

Margosha was one of his artists, an enthused punky girl with frizzy dark purple hair that came down to her chin, her slender figure was mostly on display in a see-through fishnet full sleeve top, a black strapless bra underneath clinging to her B cup breasts as her curves seemed to end there before the ripped and faded black jeans alluded to lack lustre hips and ass.

“Well, you are how you sleep.” Robby shrugged walking past the entrance foyer into the parlour and putting his things down.

Glancing around his mind was reminded of the two girls yesterday, how riled up they had made him, how much his wife had enjoyed their several rounds of fucking last night. Enthusiastically telling him how much she enjoyed them in between. Each one a failed attempt to get stray thoughts of what had happened out of his system.

His dreams were disturbing, or so he presumed based on how restless his sleep had been. All he could recall was something about tattooing his wife, fucking her, and Gia and her friend. There was something else but it was evading him.

Those thoughts and concerns dismissed as the door alerted the arrival of the first appointment of the day.

Leaving Margosha to walk to the door he shook a thought about her wearing no bra beneath the shirt as he set about prepping the gun. As the client walked in Robby was reminded what the appointment was for.

“Ready to colour her in?” The large guy remarked heading straight to a bench before stripping off his shirt and lying flat.

“Hopefully you don’t bleed so much this time.” Robby replied dismissing some incoherent thought that the gun didn’t feel right.

Soon the thought was dismissed as the gun buzzed away, giving the outlined forms colour and shading.

The work went quickly, and easily, almost too easily Robby wondered as he felt a strange invigoration. Changing colours, adding more details mindlessly aware of the archaic runes blended away into the art.

Margosha hovered during some parts, impressed with how fast and smoothly Robby was working as she questioned seeing the tribal marks as they seemed to almost vanish upon completion.

“And we’re done.” Robby remarked with relief, he had expected to spend a good chunk of time on this and worried he would need to stop for breaks.

As the client got up and admired his back tattoo in the mirror it was clear he was happy with the work, his mind thinking about how enjoyable getting the ink had been versus before, his mind fighting the urge to gaze upon the short girl here as he suddenly had a thought about how nice her eye shadowed eyes would look gazing up past his cock.

“Can you cash him out Margosha, I’m going to clean and sterilize the equipment.” Robby asked wondering why he was feeling slightly unsettled.

“Sure thing boss man.” Margosha cheerfully chirped leading the client out to the front.

Glancing at the time as he cleaned Robby froze in place. What should have been two hours work was entirely finished, and he had barely hit the 40-minute mark…

Looking at the gun he felt a new suspicion, inexplicable as it was, he put it away and pulled out another to use.

The day seemed to slow and drag on from there, his arms feeling weighted and sluggish as he worked for client after client.

Over his lunch break Robby examined the gun thoroughly, unsure of what he was looking for, knowing somehow it seemed strangely easier to use, and felt oddly pleasing to simply hold. As he brought the corrupted tool back from his lunch, he watched as Margosha poured over the sample binders.

“Really love the new art binders, some of the stuff just screams eldritch horror to me.” Margosha commented tracing some of the symbols out on paper. “I think I might even blend some of these into my sleeve.”

Robby stepped over and flipped the pages, he didn’t want to admit to not updating the book but how else could he explain the paper styled tribal symbols, ornately wiccan like pentagrams and other pagan symbolism, and abstract sexual imagery he had no explanation for…

All of it strangely also feeling familiar.

Looking at Margosha's right arm he felt a strange compulsion to set to work.

Putting the gun down as he realized he was fidgeting with it he contemplated just what to say or do.