At A Glance Author Rock Contact Rockgor@aol.com When Ten years ago or more Artist various Studio various Location hollywood and san fernando valley At the age of 50 I experienced a sea change. I realized that death was no longer an abstraction, but something that must happen to me. Not necessarily soon, of course, but eventually. My reaction was to do something wild and crazy. something out-of-character, something like a trip around the world.
Well, I couldn't afford that.
Shortly thereafter a friend sent me a tape on tattooing and piercing, two subjects I had never thought of. I was fascinated. Particularly by the penis piercings. There were piercings thru the foreskin, the head of the dick, the scrotum. Some of them looked huge. I tried to imagine having sex with that metal in place. Would it help? Would it hurt? I was particularly entranced by a fellow with a ring that went thru his foreskin. He slid it back and forth over the head of his dick. It was so sexy. I watched the video and jacked off several times.
Man, I thought, that is really cool. I set about to get myself a foreskin ring.
I visited the best know piercing parlor in LA. (I've forgotten the name.) "I'd like to find out about a foreskin piercing," I told a young, slim gal with multiple piercings and tattoos. "Can't help you," she snarled. "I don't got a foreskin."
Well, I left. But I still wanted one of those rings. So a few weeks later I went back and this time a very sweet young lady assisted me. "You can't start with that big ring," she explained. "We'll put in two barbells first and then wait for your foreskin to heal." With a little coaching I picked out my jewelry. I was amazed at the variety, color and size of the available jewelry. Especially the size. Some of those rings looked like parts of a padlock.
She took me into what looked like a doctor's office, pulled on latex gloves and told me to take off my pants.
I did, and she carefully examined my penis, moving the foreskin back and forth and making little marks with a black pen. She reminded me of a painter. First she held it one way, then stepped back and looked at it from a different angel. She moved the foreskin back and forth some more. I began to get hard. "Oh, don't be embarrassed," she said. "We're used to that here." I wasn't embarrassed at all. I felt very comfortable with her. My dick was semi-hard most of the time.
"Will it hurt more if it's hard?"
"I don't think so. Probably would if it was a Prince Albert. You'll be ok. You know the old joke about getting a penis tattoo?" I shook my head. She smiled, "The only part that hurts is when we nail it to the board." Ouch!
She told me her husband was a well-known tattoo artist. (And he was. I subsequently saw his name many times in tattoo magazines and books.)
There was great emphasis on keeping everything sterile. The bar bells were soaked in some solution. The head of my dick was washed with something medicinal-smelling. She maneuvered my penis some more, then placed the needle in position. I looked at the ceiling, took a hit of poppers, and whammo. I was prepared to endure pain, but there really wasn't any. It was like getting a shot in the
arm from a nurse. (My piercer did tell me she didn't really approve of poppers, but if I really wanted to...) For a minute we just looked at the needle sticking thru the foreskin. I was thrilled. I wished I had it on video.
I was surprised there was no pain to speak of and also no blood. The entire procedure was quick and pleasant. I was given aftercare instructions which I promptly ignored. No sex. Ha. I was
so excited I jacked off as soon as I got home.
But I did follow the instructions about keeping things clean. Everyday for two weeks I dangled my dick in a cup of diluted Hibiclens while watching piercing videos. I felt like I was part of a great brotherhood of pierced men...warriors and poets. United by our decorated manhood. Healing was no problem.
Over the next year I got my ring and several other piercings as well. Eventually the thick kind that had reminded me of a padlock. I joined a tattoo-piercing club and made two videos on piercing and tattooing. Saw a bumper sticker which said "Tattoos are addictive." Probably true for piercings too as I ended up with another dozen.
My dick piercings made me feel like a porn star. The one in my ear made me feel like a pirate. Nice feelings, different feelings for a white, middle-class office worker.
Probably as much fun as a trip around the world; certainly cheaper.