Tell a friend about this page. Go Back

Pierced
by
D.W.

"Leave it to Michelle to completely set a sista up..."

Maybe I should start from the beginning. I'm Quette, a Philly-born womyn-luvin-womyn of the stud persuasion. Living this thing we call "the life" and loving all 27 years of it. An IT professional by trade, I still like to carry it just a little thugged out on the streets. Twenty pairs of Timbs, baggy b-boy jeans, the whole nine. As looks go, I'm modest but I gets mine. I keep my shoulder-length hair in cornrows, by all accounts the best way to frame my features: semi-thick brows, chubby dimpled cheeks and brown eyes the femmes tell me have a glint of gold in them from time to time. Brown skin (the type India sings about) and a thin athletic frame distinguishable only by my unfortunately large breasts (a 34 D the last time I wore a ‘girl' bra). That last feature is what led to my current predicament.

As you can imagine, being both thin and "buxom" doesn't exactly work with the whole stud image. But always being one for uniqueness, I decided to use this prevalent feature to my advantage. The result was a large rosary tattoo trailing around my neck and falling right between ole lefty and righty. Surefire attention grabbers in the wife beater, please believe. The next idea I had been reluctantly considering was a nipple piercing. Radical? Yes. But two silvery mysteries poking out from the wife-beater PLUS the tattoo would draw the femmes in like bees to a hive. So, after 2 months of thinking it over, I finally gathered the balls to go into a tattoo parlor and check out their piercing artists. That lasted all of 5 minutes. Let's just say a big fat White guy named Lou ain't palming my tit, piercing or not. I decided the best thing to do would be to ask around, beginning with my dawg (and piercing freak) Michelle Rogers.

Having known me for 10 years, Michelle could easily guess who my ideal piercer would be. Preferably gay, but female regardless of orientation. Michelle produced a calling card for a South Street parlor called "Penetration". From the rainbow graphics, I knew it was gay friendly and from Michelle I knew to ask for Nadia, her cousin. And that's when I was set up.

That very Friday, I decided to check the joint out. "Penetration"...just the name made me shudder. Still, I made the trek in my Expedition and was pleasantly surprised. The place was definitely off-the-wall but with a cool "Jill Scott" sort of aura to it. EVERYBODY in there was clearly gay, so no chance of another "Lou" incident. After checking out some of the cases of body jewelry, I asked a thin White guy with 4-colored hair if someone named Nadia worked there. He directed me down a short hallway towards an open door covered in rainbows and Black power symbols. "I like this chick already," I thought to myself. Inside, Nadia stood with her back to us. As she turned, our eyes locked and I exhaled. Before me was about 5 feet of caramel-complected femme sweet treat. Her big soulful eyes, full lips and cropped natural hair reminded me of a mini Erykah Badu. I couldn't EVEN believe Michelle referred me to this fine-ass woman! How was I supposed to act right with her staring at my bare tits?

I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights because Nadia quickly extended her warmest hospitalities my way. Her warm hand. Her warm smile. Her warm honey voice inviting me to sit down and tell her just what I wanted. Quelling the desire to tell her what I really wanted, I shyly explained to her that I was interested in getting both nipples pierced.

Nadia in turn explained the procedure to me as she unwrapped a velvet roll of several needles and clamps. "Basically, I will clamp the nipple and pierce it through with one of the needles. I then insert the jewelry and clean you off. Afterwards, you can't remove the jewelry for about 2 weeks," Nadia said, all the while holding my gaze.

"Can you numb me," I asked.

"I can put ice on you," she smiled. I smiled. "If you're ready, we can go pick out some jewelry," she said, ushering me back to the glass case. I picked out a set of 16 gauge, black titanium "horseshoes" – curved barbells with balls on either end. I braced myself as she lead me to the room, once inside lighting coconut-scented incense and putting on some Maxwell which she claimed helped her focus. Uh huh, helped me focus too...

After cleaning and warming both her hands and instruments came the moment of truth, time for the sports bra to come off. As long as I've been in this life, showing my body to a woman for the first time has never been easy. The reaction is usually a Grinch-like grin that leaves me feeling like a piece of sirloin. Regardless, I sucked up my pride and whipped'em out.

She bit her lip and blushed a little before smiling and telling me to relax and breath deeply. I tried to keep from fucking up my boxers as this woman rubbed ice on my nipple before placing it in a small clamp. She held my eyes with hers and spoke to me the entire time, revealing her stats: 21, college student, new to the area, single and 110% lesbian. When the ice melted, she began to knead my left breast, gently working her way up to the nipple. Gripping it between her soft fingers, and still staring with those cocoa eyes, she produced one of the slender needles and began to pierce me. The pain was intense. Too intense. I sucked in my breath as she slowly inserted it, talking to me in hushed tones the whole time. Still I couldn't "take it like a man" and she had to stop.

Reassuring me it was ok, she advised me to breathe deeply while she tried "a different approach." She slowly bent over, her mouth stopping just short of my ear. With her left hand, she began pinching and squeezing my nipple. Sticking out her serpentine tongue, she traced a path around my ear before whispering "Pain is pleasure ... it hurts like heaven ... let me take you there. Let me pierce your flesh and sear your soul."

I gagged at this bizarre development but couldn't fight the facts: she was turning me the fuck on. I lost myself in her as she sucked and nibbled my earlobes, then trailed her tongue down my neck. Just as I felt her plump lips biting my neck, I felt the sharp piercing sensation again in my left nipple. I flinched, but Nadia held me steady, her knee sliding squarely into my crotch. As she ran the entire needle through my nipple, I felt the pain, but embraced the pleasure. She twisted the needle and I twisted my hands around her full ass, palming and squeezing as she slowly rocked her hips. Just when the pain brought me to the brink, it was over and the horseshoe was in.

I barely caught my breath before Nadia's hot tongue glided over my chest, swirling up and around my right breast. This time, rather than using the clamp to keep my nipple steady, Nadia simply caught it in between her teeth. I let out a small sigh as she pulled it outward with her teeth and pierced it through. Slowly she twirled and twisted the needle, her tongue all the while teasing the tip of my nipple with a soft flickering motion. The pain was crucial yet satisfying, heightened by the fact that this tiny woman was in control of the situation. As my hands slid under her skirt and teased her moistened g-string, I felt myself on the verge. My clit throbbed as she slowly ground her knee into my jeans. With my heart racing and sweat beading on my forehead, I slid my hand into her panties and began to insert my long middle finger into her dripping pussy. Then, blackness.

I'm still unsure if it was a stone cold blackout, an asthma attack or if I just busted the biggest nut in lesbian history. Maybe even a combination of all three. When I came to however, I was where I am now: in my truck, my shirt on backwards and smelling of pussy and coconut incense.

Next week I'm scheduled for a clit piercing...

THE END

Copyright © 2001. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.

Tell a friend about this page. Go Back

Navigation Literature Art Gallery SpiritSpace Links Cherry Grove S and M 101 Blog The Steam Room Relationships Albums OtherWords The Library Survey FAQs Tales Of The Talented Tongue Skyview Writer's Resources