I’m still not sure of the etiquette, when someone posts a photo that makes your mouth water (and other delicious sensations)… but this week’s prompt photo for #MasturbationMonday was one of those.
Nipple play has always featured strongly in my fantasies, which I found strange, since mine never seemed particularly sensitive in a sexual way. But still… it was a theme I returned to time and time again and something that always sent excitement curling through my body when I read about it, especially when combined with the idea of getting pierced.
So… some fiction… (after some detailed research).
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if it would hurt. How it would hurt.
“No.” she stated firmly. One last look at the little purple dots in the mirror. “No questions.”
She felt a little hazy as she laid back on the medical couch, detaching from reality just a little.
The young piercer moved around the room unhurried but purposeful. Vacuum sealed implements laid out on the metal trolley, blue gloves snapped into place. The shiny titanium bars winked at her from the tray.
She had a tendency to fill quietness with conversation, but not today. She wanted to drift with the opportunity to tune in to her body.
This was nothing like the mindfulness course she’d been sent on. Lying on the floor of the community college while the teacher exhorted her to concentrate on relaxing her toes and imagining them scrunched into warm sand. Today she felt tranquility like summer sun on her skin: excitement the distant hum of bees in the flowers.
The cartilage in her ear had scrunched when the needle passed through. An unexpected sound. She didn’t think there would be a sound today.
The world shrank. She let go of the sounds from the shop outside, the press of the bench against her back, relaxed her jaw.
Gave up the embarrassment of being turned on.
Heavy soled boots with beautiful silver buckles walked into view. A white lab coat grazing a knee.
“Just the clamp going on. Feels a little weird this part.”
The whole experience was more than a little weird. But the clamp, that felt familiar. The squeeze. The pull. Tightness that pulled at the base of her throat.
“You can close you eyes if you want.”
No way. She’d been imagining watching the needle slide through flesh for weeks, if not months.
A fat, silver needle, millimetres from trapped flesh.
“Breathe in. Blow out.”
She watched, but didn’t see, her mind filled with too many other messages.
A scratch. A flame. The drag of metal. An explosion of sensation that starts late and burns hot before tapering away. Scarlet blood dribbled.
“And the jewellery. It’s going to pinch just a little bit.”
Jostling the raw nerves. Such good hurt.
The efficient hands withdrew. Murmured words broke through the quiet. Praise for keeping still, registering in all sorts of ways it probably wasn’t intended.
It took time before she could focus on more than fragments. On the shiny balls nestling next to tender flesh. On the second bar sitting on the trolley.
The clamp appeared again in her eye-line.
“Ready to go again?”