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Mixed emotions about play piercing

Please note that play-piercing should be only carried out under sterile conditions. Adequate medical facilities should be on hand and needles should be disposed of responsibly.

I have previously written up two play piercing experiences from an erotic perspective. Since Forbidden Fruit and Amsterdam both require BME hard membership to access them, I thought it would be valuable to write a third more from the piercing angle, making it accessible to a wider audience.

This was to be my third significant foray into play-piercing in my life and the third with Allan, aka Bear my co-author on Amsterdam. We waited for an opportunity where there was zero chance of interruption from my three children, in itself a rare enough event, which gave us a number of weeks to plan and build up. I should make it clear that I have a love-hate relationship with play-piercing. I am certainly no lover of pain, but appear to be addicted to the hormonal effects it produces in my body. When I try and rationalise my feelings towards it I always get confused. Part of me, the rational me, feels very uncomfortable with the concept but I can't deny that it has a profound effect on my more visceral self. I also get a tremendous sense of achievement when I successfully transcend the pain. One thing is certain, I do need to spend a lot of time preparing myself mentally.

I spent much of the evening readying the bedroom, my body and my mind for what was to come. The room was unusually spotless; sandalwood and jasmine incense filled the air and twenty-four candles lit the room. I finished my preparations with a scaldingly hot bath in which I removed all my pubic hair. There was a comfortable armchair positioned at the foot of the bed, facing the window, which looked out over the sea. As part of my continuing mental preparation I sat Allan in the chair I oiled and massaged his legs, arms and face while we drank the contents of a bottle of Cava.

I had explained to Allan that if possible I'd like to be able to see what was happening, giving me time to prepare my mind and body for what was unfolding. I find that the combination of being tied up and blindfolded makes things infinitely more stressful for me; sometimes the extra anxiety might be a good thing, but tonight I wanted to maintain some level of control. I sat in the chair and Allan asked me to remove the two silver bracelets that I habitually wear. Curiously I now find the symbolic removal of these bracelets produces a conditioned response of calm submissiveness in me, as though my subconscious mind knows what is coming next. He fitted me with leather handcuffs, which he attached to the substantial posts at the foot of the bed with two stout lengths of climbing rope, pulling my arms back until my breasts jutted forwards. I sat there for a few moments breathing deeply palms turned upwards, knees parted, while Allan got his supplies ready. For once I think I was ready before he was.

Allan and I had barely discussed how he would pierce me. I just trust him. The first piercing is always the hardest mentally. He started with a 0.8mm needle, which he slid under my right nipple entering and exiting almost exactly on the junction between my areola and my breast. I felt the passage of it through my flesh and though it hurt enough to make me cry out, the discomfort was short lived. I asked for a short break before the second needle, time for endorphins to join adrenalin already in my blood stream. I was still shaking slightly when he grasped the flesh of my breast and put another needle through at 120 degrees to the first, again through my areola and under my nipple. The second needle hurt a lot less than the first and I was almost able to enjoy the sensation, feeling the needle pass though my flesh and the slight resistance as it met my skin again on the exit. The third needle completed the first level and I barely noticed it. I now had a three-fold symmetrical pattern of green-topped hypodermic needles and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of achievement.

The next stage was to be more challenging. I do not have sensitive areola, my nipples on the other hand are packed with deep nerves. Allan told me that the next needle would hurt more and he was right. I tightened my grip on the ropes that bound me to the bed and tried to breath evenly. In addition to being more sensitive, my nipples also put up a much stronger resistance to being pierced and Allan had to work quite hard to keep me still and get the needle through straight. I let out another shriek as the 0.5mm needle passed through my nipple. Despite the small gauge, it really hurt, just like a developing wasp sting. Again I needed a short rest while a fresh infusion of endorphins started working, though from the speed of my heart beat and shaking in my limbs, I was tanked up with adrenalin already. There was no lessening of pain with the second needle, though it only lasted for a second or so after passing through. The third one was the worst; it was close to para llel with the barbell I was wearing in my permanent nipple piercing and about the same depth. I heard and felt the needle glance off the barbell before popping out through the side of my nipple and a few seconds later a small bead of blood started welling out of the side of my piercing. Calm and a sense of well being descended again and I looked down to see the incongruously beautiful sight of a symmetrical rosette of green and orange-topped needles through my areola and nipple. Allan took a number of photos, many of which can be seen in our joint BME hard gallery. If you are logged into IAM, you can see the beautiful pattern created by Allan here.

Allan told me that he wanted to use one more needle on me; a 1.6mm by 60mm specimen which he wanted to put deep behind my nipple, through most of the flesh of my breast. I agreed and after a few minutes preparative breathing we did it. I braced my arms even harder and tried to keep still as he forced the needle though me. The pain was much less than for the previous three needles, but the depth of the piercing and the time it took to traverse my breast were more than a little disconcerting. He had gone from the outside underside of my breast upwards towards my cleavage and I saw the needle first tent then rupture the skin. This last needle looked truly amazing as you can see here if you are an IAM member. I was hit by a fresh adrenalin rush and was shaking uncontrollably while I was untied. I didn't want to take the needles out straight away, I was still feeling a huge sense of achievement. We enjoyed each other's company for about an hour, while I was careful not to impale myself or Allan.

Allan took out the needles quickly and efficiently. The smallest needles, those though my nipple produced only miniscule spots of blood. Those through my areola welled up into single large spots, but the big one resulted in freely flowing blood which ran down my flanks and had to be contained using a towel. I have to admit to being fascinated with the sight of running blood. Again if you are logged into IAM you can see the aftermath here. For a while I basked in the afterglow of the experience, though I am not sure of the relative contributions of the physical and mental aspects to that feeling of smug contentment. I had a quick shower to remove any remnant blood and settled down to sleep.

I am very much a play-piercing neophyte but am very willing to chat with anyone else on the subject. On my IAM page I have set up a play-piercing forum.


submitted by: Anonymous
on: 22 April 2003
in Ritual

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Artist: Bear
Studio: at+home
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