One Night Out

So this story came out of nowhere. It was inspired by a post by ChrystalWynd and suddenly I felt I just had to write it. It was originally intended to be three chapters, but as I was writing it morphed into a single short story. Hey, these things happen.

Once again I'm experimenting with various fetishes - namely, tattoos and pregnancy. I don't rightly know why myself - my muse works in strange ways.

Enjoy!

******

One Night Out

I sighed as I looked at the computer screen in front of me. My thesis was almost due and I hadn't done much at all. Sure, I had the first chapter worked out, and little bits of the second and third, but the real problem was that I lacked the meat to really get it going. I could foresee my professor tearing my work to shreds when they realized that I didn't have any real life studies to back up my claims.

I blinked. Wait. That was it. Real-life studies...if I didn't have them, I could just go out and get them. Why didn't I think of this before? Too many all-nighters and cups of coffee can do that to you, I guess.

I guess I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. Who am I? My name is Kathleen Meyers, and I'm a Psychology major who is way behind on her thesis. Like, really way behind. Two months behind. I've never been much of a looker - mousy brown hair, too-big glasses, pretty normal ass - but that hasn't really bothered me. I would rather spend my nights in front of the TV than on a dance floor.

Except that tonight I might need to forego my usual diet of Netflix and chips and actually go to a club. Not to get wild, you understand, but to do research. My thesis was on the behaviors of college majors in a social setting, and I couldn't think of a better place to gather data than at the hottest club in town - Detox.

If you're wondering how a totally non-party girl like me was even thinking of getting into a nightspot like that, well, my roommate was a bouncer at said club. Dave is a generally a nice guy - a lot nicer than you would think a 6.6 hulking mass of muscle would be. I clean up after him and I don't complain too much when he brings men home - and in return he does me small favors, like get me into Detox at a moment's notice. It's an arrangement that works for both of us.

I stood up from my chair and did some light stretching, then I threw open the cupboard to select my outfit for the night. I wasn't much of a clothes horse, but bouncer or no bouncer; I wouldn't be getting into Detox with anything less than club wear. After a few minutes of selection, I settled on a cute black top and matching pants. Nothing fancy, but like I said, all I wanted to do was get my research done.

It took me less than a minute to change, then I called an Uber and I was off. I felt pretty pleased with myself. If I got some good results, I'd be able to wow my professors and then that honors wouldn't seem so far off after all. People tell me that Detox could be a dangerous place, but no one there does hard drugs and besides, I could always call Dave if anything goes happens. What could go wrong, right?

As it turned out, a lot.

--

Detox was really jumping that night. I know that it's one of the hottest places in town, but even I didn't expect such a crowd. There were at least 50 to a 100 people in the queue, but I wasn't fazed for a second. I just marched straight up to Dave and he waved me in. Perks of knowing the bouncer.

It took me a little while to get used to the loud music and gyrating bodies inside - I'm not a party girl - but after a few minutes I didn't feel like I was going to pass out anymore, and I slowly made my way to a table. I must have lucked out something fierce, because the couple that was occupying it was leaving just as I got there. I slid into the free seat, carrying the free drink that I had gotten from the bartender a while before. Perks of being a lady.

I nursed my drink while I pulled out my notebook and began writing. I'm not much of a drinker, but I wasn't about to let it go to waste. But that wasn't why I was here. There was a lot of human activity, and good data to gather, and my pen and I busied themselves for a good half an hour before I was interrupted.

"Hey there. You alone tonight, darling?"

I looked up in irritation to see a tall, dark and handsome stranger smiling at me. I kid you not - he really was tall, (taller than me at least) dark (but it was so dark inside Detox I couldn't really see) and handsome. He had a short buzz cut, a piercing gaze and a grin that won't take no for an answer.

Unfortunately for him, no was what he was going to get. While he WAS pretty cute - a lot hunkier than my last boyfriend - but I wasn't here to date or hook-up. Terms papers don't wait for anyone, and my notes wouldn't write themselves. So I told him off.

"Yes. But I'm not interested, sorry." I said shortly.

"You kidding me? You come to Detox to...write notes?" he scoffed, gesturing to what I was doing.

"It might seem strange to you, but yes. I have a paper to finish, and I'm here to do research. Now will you please leave me alone?"

He seemed a little taken aback, but in seconds that infuriatingly confident grin had reappeared on his face.

"You don't know what you're missing out on, babe. I can show you a good time - the best. Trust me."

I rolled my eyes. Was this guy deaf or what? Cute, but stupid. I looked up from my writing and looked him straight in the eye.

"Read my lips. I'm. Not. Interested."

He took a step back and held his hands up in the universal gesture for surrender, but his grin didn't waver for a second. "Alright, alright...I get you, I get you. Not going to play tonight, cool. But tomorrow might be a very different story." And with that parting shot, he turned on his heel and walked back into the horde of dancers.

I blinked in surprise. Tomorrow? What was he talking about? How did he know where I would be tomorrow? I shrugged, chalking it down to just bravado, and returned to writing. Some guys were just sore losers and simply had to have the last word.

As the night wore on I felt myself getting sleepy. I knew I should just call it a night and go home, but...there was so much good data! How people were talking to each other, what they said, how they said it - it was a gold mine. I wrote and drank and drank and wrote until I discovered that my drink was empty and my notebook was full.

Alright, time to go home then. Or at least, that was what I intended to do, until I stood up...only to discover that the floor and ceiling weren't where they were supposed to be. They seem to have reversed their positions, and I sat back down heavily. Whoo. Had too much to drink, it seemed. Probably need to take a breather.

So I sat there, taking some deep breaths, until I noticed my eyelids getting heavier, and heavier, and heavier...

--

I woke up on one of the plush sofas with a ringing hangover. The club was empty. Apparently somebody (Dave?) was nice enough to transport me somewhere I could rest properly, instead of falling off a bar stool. Nice of them.

The hangover wasn't the worst of my problems, though.

I sat up and looked at myself in disbelief. Running up and down the length of my arms were a pair of dragon tattoos...that definitely weren't there last night. They were jet-black, scaled and winged and pretty damn large, spanning the length of my arms from knuckle to shoulder. I ran hands over the patterns, picking at them with my fingernails a bit. No, these weren't just stickers or iron-on patches...they were real alright.

I had always sorted of...admired people who got tattoos. I mean, they must hurt a lot! Sitting there for hours, letting someone draw on you like you were a human stencil...I'm not sure I could do it, to be honest. My sister had a friend who was a tattoo artist, and she said that people sometimes screamed in the chair. She had more than one customer whose orders she needed to cut short because they couldn't handle the pain. And I'd seen them on other people before...they weren't exactly rare on campus.

But I never thought I would ever get them. Not like this, at least. Tattoos don't just simply appear overnight, but apparently that was what had happened to me. I continued touching them in disbelief. Yup, real, totally real. Imagine that.

I had to admit...they were really nice tattoos. Intricate, with a lot of detail. I could make out the fangs in the dragons' mouth, for instance, and even some of the scales on the wings. The black stood out strong and true against the whiteness of my skin. Whoever did these knew what they were doing.

I'm not quite sure what I felt about them. It had all happened so suddenly. I could get them removed, of course, but they would cost a lot. I was a poor college student who didn't know the first thing about tattoo removal, only that it involved lasers of some sort. Which sounded both painful and expensive.

First things first though. I needed to get home and take a bath. I stumbled out of the club and into the daylight (which had never seemed so bright) and took a cab home.

The combination of hot water and soap did the trick, and the world seemed a lot clearer than it had been half an hour ago. It was somewhere between washing my hair and scrubbing myself that it suddenly hit me, and I sat bolt upright in the tub.

The guy from last night! The dude with the grin! He was the one that did this to me. I was sure of it. His comment about tomorrow, and my putting him down...like I said, tattoos didn't just appear overnight, and I'm sure he had something to do with it. Exactly what, I wasn't sure, but I was going to get to the bottom of it if it was the last thing I did.

I finished up my bath and began transcribing the notes of last night into my computer, but my thoughts were of the night ahead of me. I did manage to get some work done, but I spent most of my afternoon alternately trying to puzzle out what had happened to me and looking at my new tats in amazement. Not an incredibly productive day.

Finally the evening rolled around and I took another Uber to Detox. Time to track down Mr. Smiley and see what he had to say.

--

I was expecting a lot of stares as I walked into Detox again, but it turned out everyone was too busy dancing and getting drunk to look at a single tattooed girl. It was too dark to see my tattoos anyway - plus, they were black. Ever tried to find a black cat at night? Exactly. I gave Dave a nod and he waved me in. Good ole' Dave. I always hoped he would find a nice guy and settle down - the club scene wasn't really his thing, any more than it was mine.

Now to find Mr. Smiley. Turns out that wasn't as hard to do as I thought. He was seated in exactly same place I was last night, with that same infuriating (and attractive) grin on his face - which if anything got even larger when he saw me coming up to talk to him.

"See what I mean? Tomorrow is here, and you're back right in front of me. I must say, you've got a lot of guts, coming back to a place like this. Alone, to boot."

Now that he put it that way...I was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of my decision. It seemed like an altogether stupid idea to come back to the scene of the crime, as it were. What did I have backing me up? Just a lot of bluster and a bad attitude.

But I already taken the plunge, and I would (and feel) a lot stupider if I went home at this point. So I forged ahead.

"You did this to me, didn't you?" I snarled, gesturing to the tattoos that adorned my once bare arms.

"And what if I did? They look good on you, by the way."

Ignoring the fact that I thought he was right, I continued talking.

"Getting an innocent girl drunk, tattooing her without her consent, harassing her verbally...I could have you brought up on so many counts it would make your head spin."

He gave me a withering look and shot back a reply.

"Go to the police? They'll just tell you you went on a bender and stumbled into a tattoo parlor when drunk. You can't prove anything, and you know it."

He had a point. He had me in a bind and we both knew it. I continued to glare at him but I had run out of ammunition way earlier than I thought I would. Not much I could do at this point.

He continued to regard me steadily...and then a second later, his grin suddenly vanished. He nodded, as if coming to a decision, and stuck out his hand.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that. I respect that. Name's Rick, by the way."

Now it was my turn to take a step back in shock. I totally did not expect that. For lack of anything better to do, I found myself taking his outstretched hand and shaking it, introducing myself in the process. He smiled at me again - not so cheeky this time, a lot friendlier - and shot me a question.

"Tell you what. I'll cut you a deal. Come on with me to the back room and we can work something out. You're working on some kind of project, right? Maybe I can help."

I was still kind of weirded out by his behavior. The guy harasses me (and probably tattoos me when I'm asleep) and then suddenly he's all helpful and stuff? Too weird. So I was going to go off with a strange man to a mysterious back room (I didn't know that Detox HAD back rooms) probably...not the wisest of moves.

But I wasn't really thinking straight. The shower hadn't completely washed away my intoxication of the night before, and I was just so out of my element in the cacophonous atmosphere of Detox that found myself nodding before I even though about it. I took his hand and allowed myself to led away

The thing was...I hated to admit it to myself, but he was really quite attractive. Way cuter than my last boyfriend. I was kind of a plain Jane myself, but I liked the buzz cut he sported and the slightly torn leather jacket that he wore. Plus, he was ripped - I had a chance to check him out while talking to him, and those muscles must have taken some time to build.

So I followed him into the back room of the club and shut the door behind me. It looked like someone lived here...there was a bed on the floor, a dresser and a few faded posters, as well as a mirror on the wall. I was about to ask him what we were going to do when he stepped up and kissed me.

I was taken aback (who wouldn't be?) and I tried to fight him off, but he pinned me to the wall and within moments slipped me some tongue. I struggled as best as I could, but my resolve was waning by the second...he was a good kisser, and he really knew what he was doing. The residual alcohol from last night was still running through my veins, making me just a little horny and susceptible to his advances. Before I knew what I was doing I was letting out a few light moans and getting more than a little wet down there.

He deepened the kiss and then with a sudden savage motion threw me onto the bed. I squealed as he ripped off my clothes and began fondling me. He ran his hands up and down the dragon tattoos and I nearly came right there and then...maybe it was something in the ink, but for some reason they were super sensitive and any touch of his rough, calloused hands on them felt like lightning across my body.

I didn't know what I was doing. Here I was being fondled and kissed (and liking it!) while I had come to get information about my term paper...but Rick didn't exactly give me enough time for thought. Whatever his character flaws, he knew his way around a woman's body. He had me panting in desire in no time. He shucked off his clothing as quickly as he had divested me of mine and then when I was good and ready, he slid into me in one single thrust.

The man knew how to fuck. I wasn't a virgin, but most of my previous experience had been with men who weren't good at in the sack. Rick put all my previous lovers to shame. He would go deep one moment and shallow the next, then add a little twist at the end of each stroke so that the top of his cock rubbed against my clitoris, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. He wasn't that big, but what he lacked in size he more than made up with in technique. He captured my mouth during his thrusts while squeezing and grabbing my breasts as well - it was like being made love to in three places at once.

I came, but he showed no signs of stopping. He kept right on fucking me, bringing me off again and again until my breath was ragged with my constant orgasms. But for all his technique he was human as well, and after five minutes or so his grunts made it evident that he too was getting close to the edge.

Wait.

My eyes fluttered open in panic. Condoms...he wasn't wearing one! I opened my mouth to protest, but all that came out was a moan.

Rick looked down at me. Even while in the midst of his furious thrusting he still managed to have that irritatingly superior grin on his face.

"That's right, babe...you noticed, huh? I'm not wearing a condom. Gonna knock you up right here and now."

Wait, no...I was still a college student! A multitude of thoughts ran through my head...did you know how much kids cost? How was I going to go to class with a kid? But the motion of his penis in my vagina soon put those thoughts out of my head.

I was too busy writhing in delight to mount anything but a token resistance, so as his own orgasm nearer he grabbed my hips and came hard and fast into my waiting vagina.

I moaned in defeat as I felt him coat my insides with sperm. He was cumming into me and I couldn't do a thing about it. I gazed up at him angrily only to have my cheek stroked and head petted...not quite the reaction I was looking for.

"Calm down, sweetcheeks. We don't even know if you're pregnant yet. But by the end of the night, you will be."

I tried to struggle free, but he was way too strong for me...and all the orgasms I had had sapped whatever strength I had remaining. He pinned me to the bed and ravished me for all I was worth, and I could nothing but lay back and enjoy it. All he did for the entire night was spew load after load into my pussy, until his cum was dribbling out of my well-fucked hole. I had no idea where he got all those loads from...a good diet, I guess?

I lay back on the sodden sheets, panting. Rick was right and I was probably pregnant by then, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was trying (and failing) to either give him a slap or roll of the bed when out of the corner of the eye I saw a woman walk into the room. She gave Rick a deep kiss and turned to look at me. She seemed to think nothing of seeing a naked girl on the bed, fucked silly and breathing hard and instead asked Rick a few nonchalant questions.

"Who's this? The chick from last night?"

"Yup. Seems she hadn't had enough."

"She's cute though. Even cuter with the tats. No wonder you fucked her."

"Not as cute as you."

"Aw, shush you."

The woman straightened up and walked over to me. She gave me an appraising glance, then nodded as if she liked what she saw.

"Not too shabby. But I think we could do better."

What did she mean by that? These people seemed to enjoy talking in cryptic phrases...what was she, a witch or something?

I tried to give her a dirty look, but all that fucking had worn me out, and I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier. Within seconds I had drifted off into la-la land.

--

I woke up on the same bed I had fallen asleep on, but without the ringing headache of the night before. I guess Rick had fucked the hangover straight out of me. That was the good news.

The bad news was that when I looked down, I saw that my body wasn't quite the same one as it had been last night.

First off, I had new tattoos. Standing out in sharp relief on my bare legs were an eagle and falcon, one red and the other green. They had the same attention to detail as the dragons on my arms - I could see each individual feather, and the birds' eyes were sharp and piercing. Whoever was doing these (Rick?) really knew what they were doing.