Tattoo you and me
Do you have a tattoo? If so, what’s the story behind it? Was it a youthful drunken decision made on a dare? (Hence my corporate colleague’s tattoo of Johnny Cash on his ass.) Or self-designed artwork?
I’ve never been opposed to getting a tattoo, I could just never decide where to get it, and most important, what I’d get. It wasn’t a trivial decision. For me, body art needs to convey something about you. Something more than a pretty heart or flower on your breast. And I’m not knocking a lot of women I know who have those tattoos, it’s just that I’ve always wanted to be different from the crowd. I thought about getting one around my feet or ankles, then I was told that those areas are particularly painful. When I was younger I was turned off by the idea of pain (a foot tattoo is more painful than childbirth, I was told by a waitress), so those areas were out. I wore a lot of rings during my 20s and 30s, so I considered a ring tattoo. It would be easy to cover up and most people would probably think it’s a real ring at passing glance. During my 40s I forgot about getting a tattoo. I was a serious career woman and I was tired by that point of figuring out what to get. And I convinced myself that particular ship had sailed. Why would I tattoo skin that would soon be saggy and wrinkly?
But fast-forward to meeting Maestro and the subject came up again. He had four tattoos when we met, each with a meaningful story behind it. And in different locations (arm, back, foot). One of the things to consider with tattoos, he offered, is if you want to see it or not. Is it for you or for an audience? Your back, for example, provides a great canvas for others to view but sucks for you unless you look in a mirror. And that’s when I realized I want to see mine. I returned to the idea of a finger or wrist tattoo. Visible to me but easily covered up if necessary.
Maestro came up with the design in Mexico … not coincidentally where it’s very cheap to get one. It’s a reminder of a lesson he taught me – that I need to feel my pain. I can’t run from it. Accept it, feel it and move on. No cheating, no skipping steps. The spanking paddle represents my preferred delivery method, and one of my greatest sexual discoveries with Maestro. I like to be spanked and to spank others.
The tattoo is on my wrist. (Apparently finger tattoos wear off quickly so it’s not recommended.) There are three pink hearts on the paddle and one small pink heart on the handle. It’s about love. Love for the people in my life, for people yet to enter my life, and a reminder that love will come unexpectedly, not from where you think. That middle heart is facing the opposite direction. The small heart on the handle is a reminder of loved ones not in your life anymore. Maestro incorporated the three heart design into his fifth tattoo, a fully charged battery on his chest.

So was it painful? That’s the question I get most often from my non-tattooed friends. Nope. It felt like little pin pricks on the top of my wrist, like a good deep exfoliating scrub. A bit deeper pricks on the more sensitive skin on the inside, but I wouldn’t call it pain. Would I get another one? Absolutely. Maestro wasn’t surprised. Getting tattoos can be addictive. It’s a combination of the pain and beauty that is exhilarating. And only limited by skin and imagination.