It began with my ears and migrated southbound.
rted in the bathroom one day with a safety pin and some extra earrings.
(Background info: my parents are divorced, so I don't have my dad breathing over my shoulder about these things, and my mom is a bit of a pushover when she sees that I'm happy. My dad hates piercings, even in the ears, and my mom isn't too tolerant of anything else. ) I had already gotten my ears pierced at one of those mall shops when I was twelve, once in each ear. Then, when I was on vacation with my sister and grandparents, I got another hole in each. (I thought I was so cool. I mean, being in like ... what was it? 7th grade and having two holes in my ears? Right on.) At the Helldorado festival two years later, I got two holes in my cartillage on the left side. (THEN I was cool.) All of them were simple pen-mark, CRUNCH, pen-mark, CRUNCH with a gun. I was satisfied for a couple of years. Then the fun began. My mom disapproved of any more holes in my body, and she told me so just that morning. But, as always, I'm obstinate. I felt the need for more decoration and pain (I've always been a sicko), so I cleaned my lobes off with just some regular soap and waited for them to dry. I took the pin and poked it into my ear slowly, harder and harder, until the resistance went away and I popped a hole through only the first layer of skin. I didn't quite know what to think of that, because it didn't hurt at all, but it didn't go all the way through. So I kept pushing until it popped again. Still not through but also still not hurting. Well, I kept it up until I got it through the back (about two more pops later) and that's when it hurt. I had to stretch the hole with the pin AND the earring to get it through, but once it was in, it felt much better. Not hurting anymore, just a bit of dizzy throbbing. I was elated... I had just pierced my OWN EARS. (This was almost the peak of my coolness) I continued on, five more times and in wierd places, till I had ears full of jewelry. I danced out of the bathroom proudly to show my sister, who went in and did a couple herself, and then I went in to bed. It didn't hurt to rest my head on them, until three days later when they got infected and my mom found out. I made up the story that if I took them out right now they'd get even more infected because they were open wounds. She let me keep them, and to this day people comment on how neat they look. Then a girlfriend of mine brought her friend Scott (who had a PA, frenum, and both nipples pierced twice) and he offered to pay for her nipple piercings.... and mine. Now THERE'S trouble. Mostly because I was 17 at the time and I'd been wanting to get mine done forever. So. He took us to a little off-the-strip piercing/tattoo joint where he said he knew somebody. Turns out the guy he knew got fired. But the other guy was willing to pierce me, 17, with no ID to prove that this guy was "Daddy", for $35 each tit. Now that I think about it, this guy was an idiot. I think he was one of the tattooists, filling in for the guy that got fired. But anyway. I sat in the room, on the table, panting because it was so hot in there and because I was thrilled that I, me, innocent little sweet Jenny, was going to get her (gasp) nipples pierced. My girlfriend held my hand as the guy marked the little purple dots. It was scary having my shirt unbuttoned in front of someone like that, but I thought it would be worth it. (Oh yes, if you are getting this done, a shirt that buttons is a LOT less painful. Don't try it with a collared shirt the first time.) He marked it, clamped one (I think it was the right one), and put the needle on one side. He said to breathe three times, and on the exhalation of the third breath, he shoved the needle through. Oh, the pain! Things swam before my eyes, I almost passed out, and I had to leave the room so I wouldn't throw up. I think he put the ring through when I was holding myself up on the table, trying to regain my vision. I sat in the bathroom for about 10 minutes with a towel on my head until I felt stable enough to stand and walk back into the room. I sat on the table again, supported by my girlfriend, and he marked, clamped, and stabbed the other one. This one hurt less, maybe because I was ready for it, or maybe I was in such shock that I wouldn't have felt a truck running over my feet. I buttoned my shirt up, minus the bra, and walked outside into the all-too-bright sunshine with the knowledge that I had two stainless steel hoops through very sensitive and sexual parts on my body. I was so proud. It was hard to sleep for the first three days or so until I got my sports bra. That helps a great deal in keeping them all nice and not moving. So I, of course, showed them to everyone at school, who thought they were either gross or spontaneously climactic and a few of them had to leave or they'd mess themselves. So now I had something cool to talk about. (See? I keep getting cooler) I noticed one of them was healing funny, kind of out towards the front of the nipple. I wasn't familiar with the "migration" idea, and I didn't know who to ask for help. So I went to Puncture (where, before, I was scared to go into without a reason because it was just SO COOL) and talked to John (more about him later) who said it was probably growing out and I should remove it so I didn't end up with a horrendous scar. I was devastated. But I took them out because he was right and it hurt to have it like that. About six months after this, I turned 18 and one day, on a slightly planned whim, I went with my good friend Mike to Sin City to get my tongue pierced during lunchtime at school. He had just gotten his done there a while ago and said it was okay. That was also another one I'd wanted for a while, seeing how I'd done it with a safety pin numerous times in the bathroom but could never get the bar through. (Don't try this at home, kids, cause you'll never get the jewelry through unless you've got the hollow needle.) I was nervous, panicked, and overall, way too excited. I almost threw up when he gave me the Listerine. The piercer's name is RJ, and I still have a good relationship with him in his new store. Anyway, he dried my tongue off, clamped it, marked it, and ordered a deep breath. I breathed, in, out, and had a metal needle through my tongue. This was almost more exciting than the nipples because I could actually watch this one. It hurt a bit, right on top and a little bit on the bottom, but only where the needle was. RJ pushed alubricated barbel through where the needle was, making the needle come out and me almost kick him in the groin. It didn't hurt, but it sure felt strange. He screwed the ball on, gave me a cup of water, and asked if everything was okay. I said "Yeth, it'th okay," and Mike and I left for 7-11 to get ice. I went back into school, a little bit late but not caring a bit, and showed it to everyone. It didn't hurt to talk once I got used to a metal piece being in my mouth (THROUGH MY TONGUE), and I loved it. Well, the feces hit the rotating blades when I got home, because my mom found out, told all the neighbors what a heathen I was, and then told me to take it out. Being 18 I didn't have to, but she was willing to kick me out of the house for it. It swelled the next few days, making it hard to eat and talk and stick it out to show people. On the third day I made a valliant effort and managed to eat chicken. I was happy. I loved it. Loved the feel of it (THROUGH MY TONGUE) and the shine of the metal (THROUGH MY TONGUE) when I talked. It took me a long time to get over the thrill of OH MY GOSH THERE'S METAL THROUGH MY TONGUE. The neighbors got over it soon enough, my mom told me not to flick it out in front of her or she'd get her pliers, my dad wasn't too thrilled but he lived in California, and all my friends thought it was "pretty cool". So I lived with that for a while. Then Scott came back into town. He heard of my experience from last time and offered to take me to the place of my choice. We drove to Puncture after convincing my mom that he was just a friend from out of town come to take me out to lunch for a few hours. I talked to John, showed him my ID, looked at his portfolio, decided that I wanted something further down below, and so Scott asked him to check me out. I found out I wasn't built for an actual clit piercing, or a triangle, but I could easily get a hood piercing. Well that was just as cool for me, so Scott gave him the money (most expensive bunch of piercings I've gotten but oh so worth every penny) and we picked out the jewelry. Small spiked barbells for the nipples and a small barbell with different sized balls for my vertical hood. John suggested the hood first because it hurt less and it was making me more nervous. I was marked, inspected, marked again to get it perfect, and then he prepared everything and told me to take a breath. I took a breath, the needle went through, I breathed out... Small pinch and it was all over. Jewelry and everything in less than five seconds and with no excruciating pain. I was thrilled. Then he had me pull my shorts back up and he marked my nipples, had me stand up to make sure the alignment was right, and he clamped them. I laid back down on the table and held Scott's hand. John had me close my eyes, take two deep breaths, and he pushed the needle through. I was expecting so much pain like the first time, but John made me feel so much more relaxed that there wasn't any pain. Okay, it hurt a little going in and I could feel it go through, but it wasn't agony. Bliss, more like it. I almost, literally, had an orgasm from it. And another when he did the other one. I felt so great after that, with the adrenaline and all, that I just floated through the rest of the day. John's girlfriend warned me on the way out (I think it was because I was walking like a duck) to be careful when I went to the bathroom... she found out the hard way you had to watch how you cleaned yourself or be at risk of an owiee. I now had 14 piercings. (ultimately cool) I walked funny for a day because I was nervous, then I got used to it and it was cool. Didn't show that one to many people, however. On some momentous occasion (can't remember if it was the day I dumped my boyfriend, got a new job, or quit my old job) I had $60 in my pocket and a whim. I went down to Puncture, handed John my money, and told him I wanted my septum pierced. He took a long time marking it and aligning it. When he was satisfied, he pierced it perfectly. And, again, it didn't hurt more than a pinch. He put the curved barbell through and stretched it apart so I could push it up and hide it in my nose for work. I thought that was amazing. I was playing with it within two minutes and was totally, completely thrilled. People all the time who have an eye for these things commment on how perfect it is. The boy I was after wasn't as excited as I was, however. But I didn't care because it was a statement of who I wanted to be and that was all that mattered. About six months later it got stretched to an 8ga, as did one of the two holes in my cartillage and both bottom holes got to a 6ga because I bought a curved taper one day. Nothing but trouble, those things are. ;) Yet again on a whim I got my tongue pierced again, back further. Yes, that hurt more. It swelled and hurt the first one, and whenever one got the slightest bit infected it infected the other one. And sometimes the back one hurt. I changed the barbell to something longer and that helped. I kept them that way for about a year. Then I went to Diversity (where John's assistant, Tim, went after Puncture moved back to California) and told Tim I needed some pain. He stretched my first hole to a 10ga, and the back to a 12ga, but it bled profusely when he tried a 10. After that incident, it never healed right and it was always making my tongue numb for some reason. I took it out, and it healed up, but I can still press on the scar and feel the tingly. To make up for that missing hole, I got another in my cartillage on the right side to balance me out. Within a week and a half it was up to a 10 from a 14. That hurt, but it's healing nicely now. I can't remember when, but I thought my tragus was lonely so I got holes punched in those by RJ. He was good, but they hurt and I could hear the crunch when the needle punched out the back. THAT was gross. They healed up in less than two weeks, however, and they've remained some of my favorite piercings. I'm looking to get another one in one ear, but I don't think I've got enough room. Somewhere along the line I put a 0ga in my left ear and a 2ga in my right, stretched my nips up to 12, got two navel rings (shaped like a V ) and a shorter tonguebar that I could wear to work. Now when I get pierced, I concentrate on feeling the needle inside my flesh, going all the way through, and that helps distract me from the pain. It's an absolutely beautiful masochistic habit and I love it. To walk into someplace, knowing you are going to hurt in places you shouldn't, and PAY someone to put metal in your body. It's incredible. I can't get any facial piercings, because of work, and the only other ones I can think of that I haven't gotten yet are inner and outer labia. And the guiche, but I'm not thinking of that one very often. Maybe a handweb or two, an implant here or there, maybe a new job.... I can't even get the helix I want because I'm allowed two earrings in each ear, and that'd be my tragus and my plugs. I mean, I could take out the plugs, but when I showed it to my boss like that, she turned very pale and told me to keep them in and take out different ones. So I'm stuck in the spot I'm in now, with only 19 piercings and one tattoo. The tattoo is a different story, as is my tail fantasy. That's gonna cost me a bundle. Plus, I'm only 19 and I've got a long way to go to change and decide what I like. And now my little 16 year old sister is getting into all this. She pierced her own ears AND her tongue (just like me) and wants her nipple pierced. I'm going to take her in for her nipple, but really at that age it isn't a good idea because she's still growing. I love watching people get pierced and encouraging the habit. I've taken six people in to get their tongues pierced and paid for half of them myself. I love it. For me, watching is almost a sexual thing. An expression of your inner self extended outward. (Blah blah blah) I'm still looking for more piercings here and there, and I plan on visiting John in a few weeks when I go to California. If you're ever in Vegas and care to give me a holler, write to me and we could plan something. I love you all... -- Jenny the Great
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 05 Sept. 1999
in Ear Piercing