At A Glance
Author	Michelle
Contact	Michelle@bme.anon
When	It just happened
Artist	Scott Jania
Studio	Progressive Piercing (in The Alley)
Location	Chicago, Illinois

There's no one reason that I decided to get my clit pierced. I'm a 29 year old housewife who's almost boringly normal...whatever that means. About the only unusual thing about me is that I'm in a domination and submission relationship with my husband/Master, and really, all of that that ever shows up in our daily lives is a wife obeying her husband; I can hear the Fundamentalist preachers shrieking for joy as I type. ;-)

At any rate, I have always found body piercings fascinating and beautiful, and admired the people who had them for their courage both in getting the piercing done, and in enduring the strange looks and, let's face it, discrimination that often comes with being different. So even though most of my life I never thought I'D get a piercing, I still had quite a few "you GO girl/you GO boy!" encounters where I just wanted to give the person a little salute, just for having the guts.

Then long about last October (2001) I started to feel a little differently about myself. I had had one very small tattoo for a few months by that time; the Chinese symbol for "slave" just above my right shoulder blade. And while that was enough to give me just a hint of delightful naughtiness, I realized even then that it wasn't that big of a deal. Twenty bucks, five minutes of slight pain, and it didn't even show when I was dressed. Whoopee. But all of a sudden I started reading the online diary of a delightful young lady who dressed beautifully, wore her hair all kinds of different colors, had piercings, etc., and I realized that I was feeling a twinge of regret that I'd never done those things when I was a "kid". And now, obviously it was too late. I mean, I'm a married woman with three stepkids. Time to be "mature".

Um...excuse me?

I suddenly woke up from that little mindset, and seemingly overnight I had bought roughly three tons of vintage clothes, bleached and dyed blue streaks into my black hair, and decided on a new tattoo; a bird-of-paradise that was just as flamboyant and proud as I myself wanted to be. And then I noticed that the tattoo studio I chose also performed some body piercings. Hmmmm...

Enter the piercing of my left eyebrow, along with a later tattoo from the same artist---and also the memory of a long-ago conversation between Master and myself, in which he mentioned that he would like to see my nipples pierced.

...and the ever-hungry spiral of depravity engulfed yet another impressionable mind, hehe. Yes, not one week after my last tattoo, I found myself in front of the piercing artist, shirt and bra raised and a bright-red blush spreading across my cheeks as he pierced first my right nipple, then my left. Oh, how it hurt! I honestly wondered if I were crazy. Why on earth was I wanting to do this to my body?

Answer: I don't know. I don't have an extraordinarily high pain tolerance, and I don't seek out things that hurt; it just felt right. And this leads me (finally!) to the point of this little tale: my clitoral piercing. I had only heard of a very few of these piercings, and while the thought of piercing such a verrrrrry sensitive body part was mildly terrifying, it was also fascinating. There were stories of increased sexual stimulation, which is a big plus, and I absolutely loved the photos I'd seen; for pure aesthetics, I really can't think of a nicer enhancement to your "bits". Furthermore, the very fact of its rarity had an attraction as well; I have no doubt that this kind of piercing will continue to gain popularity, but hey, right now I'm one of a relatively small group, and I like that a lot. I like being one of the first to try something!

I knew that not everyone had the right kind of anatomy for it, but I was also fairly sure that I did; I have a relatively large and prominent clit that would most likely prove an easy target. (Now THERE'S a comforting thought!) The real question, however, was not whether I could do it, but whether I really would. Could I honestly stand that kind of pain, even for the few seconds it was supposed to last?

Well hell, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?

I logged onto Yahoo and plugged in the search term "clitoral piercing", and lo and behold, what should pop up but the BME site, with all its wonderful tales from people kind enough to share their experiences, good and bad. So between the stories here and research on other sites, including "doctor's advice" boards, I decided that yes, I was willing to try this. However, I didn't feel really comfortable having it done at the tattoo studio. For one thing, they don't have a separate room for piercings; I know now that I shouldn't even have really had my nipples done there. MUCH better to be in a place where every last little thing has been sterilized within an inch of its life. And besides that, my God! This was my clit I was talking about; I only have one and I need it to last me a while! So I wanted a specialist.

And through the wonderful word-of-mouth that is the Internet, I found one: Scott Jania, owner of Progressive Piercing in Chicago's "The Alley". I cannot recommend this man enough, ladies. Professional, sweet, knowledgeable, professional, careful, helpful, and did I mention professional? He takes his job VERY seriously, and you can really tell it's his passion. He went through some of the details of the procedure even before I took my underwear off, then performed a thorough-yet-comfortable examination of the area in question, just to make certain that I had the "right stuff" for this kind of piercing. He double-, then triple-checked with me to make sure that it was an actual clitoral piercing I wanted as opposed to a hood, then he explained in simple terms what it would probably feel like and why it would feel that way, i.e. where the needle would actually be entering and what sort of tissue it would encounter. I don't know about you, but I'm m uch better with pain when I know what to expect. Unpleasant sensations that come out of nowhere with no explanation are very close to my idea of hell.

Scott was also very careful to find out when I'd decided on this piercing, and when I told him I'd been thinking about it for a couple of months (which was true), that seemed to reassure him. He told me later that if I'd seemed unsure about the piercing at all, or if I seemed to be doing it on the spur of the moment, he would have refused to perform it...and that tells me more about his level of professionalism than just about anything else ever could. If a person is willing to forego the money he might make from a job because he thinks it will help ensure the safety and happiness of his client? Hey, he's hired.

So now it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty. Scott sent me back out into the front office, where I was given the requisite forms to fill out along with a pamphlet (and verbal lesson) detailing the aftercare and normal behavior of the piercing. Then after about a ten-minute wait in which all the supplies were set up, Master and I were led back into the piercing room, where I sat on the piercing table and watched Scott, gloved and masked, open the sterile packets in front of us so we'd know everything was safe. He kept up a steady flow of conversation in order to keep my nervousness to a minimum, and it really helped, I think...until the time came for me to actually lie down and show the goodies.

Don't get me wrong, Scott's a sweetie and just adorable, but it's still a little odd to have a man other than Master poking about down there. But his professional demeanor really helped to put us both at ease, and shortly I was marked with a dot at the center of my clitoris (as a sort of "aiming device", I understand), swabbed down with antimicrobial cleaner, and getting ready to have a pair of forceps applied to me. This was not, as you can imagine, terribly pleasant, but the forceps were really not THAT tight, and they didn't have "teeth" like some do, so it certainly wasn't as bad as I'd feared.

Unfortunately, the rest of it...was worse. I won't lie to make you feel better about considering this piercing; you'd just get mad and come shoot me later. IT HURT!!!! I remember very clearly Scott's telling me the importance of the deep breath right before the piercing; it helps with the circulation of the endorphins and apparently kills the pain sooner. But all I could think, as he aligned the needle with my clit, was that as soon as I started to let out a breath, I was going to be in some serious pain. And for a few moments, I very nearly backed out. I remember whimpering "I don't think I can do this!" while clutching Master's hand in a death-grip. But then I had to calm myself down...I didn't want to let myself down by not doing what I'd come here to do. I didn't want to let Master down after he took the day off work to take me in to get pierced. And in an odd way, I didn't want to let Scott down by making him think I didn't trust him. (Yes, the man is just that nice. One hour in his company and I was worried about hurting his feelings.)

So when he asked in a concerned voice if I wanted him to stop, I somehow found the words to say no, go on. So I took the deep breath, began to let it out, and then I started to scream. I can honestly say this was the worst pain I have ever experienced, ladies. I'm sorry. I screamed when the needle went into me, I screamed louder when it hit the denser tissue at the base of my clitoris, and then I screamed some more when it popped back out the other side. It felt like I'd died and gone to Hell, and it seemed neverending.

And then...it stopped. Scott was done, the ring was in, and we had entered what he called "halftime", in which he lets the piercee rest and collect himself/herself for a few moments before the ring is bent and the ball fitted into it. I remember thinking quite clearly, "Huh? Where'd the pain go?" Not that I missed it, of course, but it was very strange, the sudden and total absence of what I would have SWORN was the worst agony known to womankind. Shortly thereafter, of course, the endorphin rush kicked in and I had the nicest little float in "sub-space"...the whole thing would almost have been worth it just for that.

And you know what? In reality, the piercing was over in about two seconds. There was a slight tugging as Scott fitted the ball into the ring and got it looking all nice and pretty, but it actually felt pretty erotic rather than painful. And then he handed me a mirror so I could look at my new "toy". Ladies, I've never been particularly enthused with the view of my own vulva, but I have to say, this piercing is truly beautiful. It's now about four hours later, and I'm sitting at my computer desk occasionally tightening up my vaginal muscles just a little to have some activity there, because the feeling of the ring inside my clit is wonderful. There is no pain, although I'm aware of the jewelry every time I move, and really even when I sit still. I can almost feel my heartbeat against it!

So would I do it again? Oh, yes. I'm going to try very hard to take good care of this piercing so I don't have to, but I definitely would do it again, and I do recommend it. It's the most erotic little piece of jewelry you'd ever want to find, and it's my own little secret.

Thanks, Scott. :-)