My naughty bits are now my sparkley bits.
So we’ve been offline since about Thursday, I think. I forget these things.
Thursday afternoon, at lunch, I made a call to Rockstar to see about getting an appointment for a piercing on Friday, after work. Scheduled myself for 6pm, figuring this would give us time to possibly go home, let me get into a skirt, get dinner, allow me to get my head together, etc. We ended up just going right into the city, grabbing dinner at Spike’s, and showing up at about 5:15pm or so. The guy behind the counter asks if we need some help, since I’m just staring into the cases full of shiny barbells and rings and things. I tell him I’ve got an appointment at 6.
“Oh, you here for a nose piercing?”
“No, my hood.”
“Cool, cool. It looks like our 5:30 has chickened out, lemme get you the forms and get you set up for Jef.”
And that’s when it sinks in that I’m going to allow a guy to take a very sharp pointy needle and jab it through my most sensitive bits.
I fill the form out, we go over the jewelry selection, and Jef comes out and grabs what could best be described as a massive selection of barbells to ensure that he’s got the size I need without needing to open the door once we’re all naked and happy in the sterile room. We all go into the room, I hop on the table, we go over the aftercare. We joke about games of “find the bead” and changing jewelry once I’m healed. No saliva on the piercing, use condoms until it’s healed, etc, etc. Same stuff I heard when I got my nips done 3 years ago. Jef explains which side of the table he’s going to do it from, I hop down, drop trou, flash Eddie while Jef’s got his back turned, and get back onto the paper-covered table. Jef tells me to lay back, and I drop a leg over either side.
First comes the cleaning with the saline solution. Cold saline on a q-tip stuck on a rather sensitive area? A rather odd feeling. Then we get the marking with the purple dye and the toothpick. I’m poked and marked and slightly panicy - hey, these are my genitals that I’m letting him poke with little more than a splinter. But wait, there’s more! Now came the receiving tube. For those of you unfamiliar with this, it’s a steel tube slightly thinner than a pencil that was wedged between my clit and the hood. Fun, eh? I make some faces, and Jef asks if it hurts. I tell him no, it’s just an unusual feeling, plus the tube is cold.
Which brings us to the big event - the actual poking of my privates. And not the good, bow-chicka-bowmp-bow poking either. Jef lines the needle up with the mark and the waiting tube, and explains the deep breathing stuff. Of course, I can feel the needle at this point, and it hurts already. Plus, no amount of deep breathing could have ever prepared me for the insane amount of pain that shot through my crotch when the needle when through. I yelped (I think), my legs shot up and back onto the table in a frantic attempt to clamp my thighs together. And yet, before I even managed to get my legs closed, the pain was gone. I took a moment (or 5) to get myself back down to planet earth, at which point Jef says, “Ok, open your legs, we’ve gotta get the jewelry in.” A little bit of pressure, but no pain, and I’m attempting to get off the table when Jef tells me he still needs to put the bottom bead on. Eventually, the bead is on, what little bit of blood is there is wiped up, I’m given a bit of gauze to keep my panties clean, and we head out.
And I haven’t felt it since. Of course, I do have to move it around now and then to adjust it so it’s comfy, but it’s not painful or anything. Another week and a half and Eddie says we can take it for a test drive 
February 14th, 2005 at 3:22 am
[...] slowly rejecting industrial out and replaced it with 2 considerably smaller rings, and the hood piercing failed dismally after 4 months. [...]