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Scrub Your Way to Enlightenment

I honestly never wanted a cutting. I had talked to friends about it and they said how terrible it was trying to scrub theirs (yet they had large ones). That and I always found myself being a REALLY big pussy about that sort of thing. 

However, once I was told there were going to be member bars for the Church of Body Modification, I felt there was no going back. As a member, it was my chance to show myself what it really meant to be Mind, Body, and Soul in what I do—not just in body modification, have you. It was my journey into something even I knew was painful... but right for my chosen path. 

To make it go a step further into the true meaning of body modification, and to me, and the person doing my cutting, I had someone wanting to learn how to cut do my bars. We'll call this person 'C' for cutter, seeing as they wish to remain a wonderful mystery. 

Rather late that evening we discussed what questions I had, and I tried to hide under my comforter—not a chance. Luckily C was a playful spunk, and kept pulling the cover away to make me ask questions. I went on about how it would hurt, how nervous I was... then I escaped to go pee, thus hiding in the bathroom. I was even given a little gift of some really mentally healing, and wonderfully calming lavender to help my jitters. (It was my favorite scent on earth, mind you.) 

Chair as a medical table, the bed that was used for an operating table and even my back was sanitized. Crop circle music played in the air as preperations were made, and a small bundle of lavender was cradled near my face. C was very helpful and even gave me a few friendly good luck kisses on the cheek and my arm before we started... 

...And starting took a while. I laid there, completely set up to be marked for Life with the bars of one of the things that makes me feel real. I continued to breathe deeply and verbally say how scared I was, but howe much this act meant to me. C continued to say, scalpel poised in the air,

"I'm not going to do this until you tell me to. We'll do one little cut and if you really don't want to continue, I'll toss the scalpel away and I won't finish. It is completely up to you and your Body."

I braced myself, lavender in fist and said the magic word. 


And so it went. The first cut was painful, and I grit my teeth. C asked me how that felt and how badly the first cut hurt me. I sighed and nodded my head and told C to continue for me, but to please give me a break every bar to let myself try to get into a zone for each meaning of the bar, and to catch my breath. C agreed. 
First bar was finished, and C told me that each cut was done twice just to make sure it was a good ways down through my skin so that it would not fade. (C was very into this and I could tell it was a good thing for both of us. It was certainly a breaktaking experience...)

Very little bleeding C said, showing me the bloody paper towel he used to clean up the cutting made thus far—and with that I was a VERY happy piece of meat. I went ahead and refocused myself. C made the comment that the first and lowermost bar was body.

By the time we got the second one I disagreed and said Mind was the first bar because it was 'Mind over Matter' that made me take about 45 minutes of us just sitting there till I talked myself back into it. He agreed and asked if the first one hurt the most. I said the second one did. It was because my body was becoming aware of the incisions and kinda doing the 'w/t/f now I gotta fix this' routine.

I squealed and even 'jumped' a bit, making the cutting a little less than perfect. Just goes to show that even the most meaningful of this will get a tad bit muddled, but you should always have faith in yourself.

Besides, I'll be scrubbing the daylights out of these marks, and the little flaws won't matter anymore. The third bar. The most painful, but most sacred cutting. I cried out—C continued to say calming words, telling me to breathe, telling me what a good job I'm doing... and if I needed to curse the pillow till it screamed, and went up in flames now was the time to do it.

Grrrr... it stings and I want to kick C, but him being my first and probably only cutter I don't. I grunt. I gasp, and squealing, but trying not to wake anyone up in the next apartment, I let every ounce of energy go into the scalpel's bloody tip to give me the strength I've never truly had ever before...

And then we're done.

I suddenly feel Enlightened—the feeling—blood creeping from my skin, taking the poison my loved tried to force feed me with little success. I am myself, tears of joy in my eyes and the best pain I've ever felt. C works on cleaning up, and then cleaning me as I gasp and breath deeply. Again I feel all my hate, all my pain wash away and out of with my blood. I'm in a lot of pain, but it's something I've needed for years. I've been hurt is such negative ways for the longest time—now I've completed a short list in steps on my way to becoming a better person than ever—I can be myself.

After all the cuts were made, he said it would be in the best interests if we irritated it to start it off.

Reluctantly, I agreed.

It hurt very badly while he scrubbed away the blood from my cutting, but oddly enough the hydrogen peroxide gave off a tingling feeling that soothed it once the scrubbing stopped.

After C was done scrubbing, I get another friendly kiss and C bandages me all up for the night. We said our goodnights and I went to my bed and C was sweet enough to take a mattress on the floor in my living room, seeing as the couch wasn't that comfortable.

*The following is a shortened version of my personal journal for this experience. I have picked the most crucial moments in time as possible to give those an idea of what healing a cutting is like.

October 27: Day one—C was nice enough to stay with me for a few days to ensure I knew how to take care of my cutting. C scrubbed it as I lay on the mattress that was used for sleeping the night before, as it was easier than my bed, and a bit more stable. After a good dose of hydrogen peroxide to the cutting, a soft bristled tooth brush was used to scrub the cutting till it began to bleed. (Keep in mind you are usually suppose to use a hard bristled brush, but I had limited time to find the equipemtn for this modification, and a soft one was the one that was there and still in the package.) It HURT so much and I gasped as C scrubbed my back. I grabbed at the sheets and wanted to kick my feet around, but I tried desperately to be patient.

C finally finished after an excrutiating... 5 minutes or so, and showed me a slightly bloody toothbrush. I sighed and lay limp on the mattress while C went ahead and cleaned the toothbrush and wrapped it up all sanitary and good for me to use.

Later that night C scrubbed me again, and off we went to a party to get our groove on. C added that it was good for me to get out so that my back didn't get too stiff feeling and the cutting got use to moving around and such. It was itchy. It was a good thing for it to be itchy.

Day two—This morning C scrubbed 'my butt' as we laughed about it as intimate friends and again I squirmed but it wasn't as bad as before, I'll admit. I've gotten use to C's pressure, and it was nice to feel bubbly from the hydrogen peroxide seeping into my flesh. It hurt, but it was rather relaxing all at the same time. Once it dried a bit, I danced around the apartment and bounced off the walls like a rubber ball. C was quite amused, I must say. It's always good to mod with a buddie. J

About 7pm or so it was my turn to scrub to Enlightenment. I admit I was a pussy and tried to scrub with a folded paper towel, but it didn't work and I eventually got a little 'brush near your ass' dance going on in my apartment to Crop Circle music again. I started off pretty slow but got a bit faster by the end of it. I didn't really get to the bleeding point, mind you, but I kept doucing my toothbrush with hydrogen peroxide every so often, or even getting a cotton ball to soak up my back nice and good so I could 'dance' some more. It was very amusing... but hurt like a bitch and so it should be.

Day five—I talked a friend of mine who's husband recently got a cutting and asked what I should do. Toothpaste. I wondered if it would work, and since I had some really nice baking soda and peroxide toothpaste, I went for it. Wow. Showers can be fun this way—scrub you cutting and your teeth, each with their own toothbrush! Heh...

Here's how it went: it stung a little because of the baking soda, but because of the fine-toothed sandpaper effect, if not only took away the top layer, it made the credice from the cut a bit larger! For my body type, it seems this works muvh better for me. I did this one at night after a good long walk with some friends, so the sweat and the skin was nice to get off all at the same time. Try it sometime and you'll see what I mean.

Day six—Upon using the toothpaste—and being really tired at that, I took a good quarter size of toothpaste and rubbed it with my hand over my cutting... and found the best possible way to scrub. Again, I want to strongly hint at the great abrasiveness that baking soda and peroxide toothpaste gives—just like sandpaper. I could massage my back and get it irritated all at the same time—I can't imagine how this would be if my fiance' was in the shower with me to help out! Erotic, slightly painful, but certainly a bonding experience, in my opinion. I should make him try that... heh, heh...

Day eleven—The cutting itself seems as if it is not rising, and this bothers me a little bit. However, on talking to my fiance' today, (he recently had a cutting done himself,) and he said that it seemed to not for a bit before it did. He said he started to scratch it, (and I have been doing that QUITE a bit lately,) and after a few months he said it started to rise of it's own accord. I asked my cutter about this fact, and he agreed that it may take little over 3 months for it to rise if I just went ahead and scratched it. He even offered to do several of the horizontal cuts over if it did not rise as much as I liked. C's good like that, and this time with EMLA which I was VERY happy about, to say the least.

* Note from the writer: I will be following up this experience within the next few months. If you wish to contact me, I will be more than happy to talk about it. I've also included a link below to the experience "C" wrote about being my cutter.

My first experience doing a cutting


submitted by: Anonymous
on: 12 Nov. 2001
in Scarification

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