When I was 20 or so, a friend of mine who had recently obtained numerous piercings, basically dared me to get some sort of genital piercing. And I, being the little shit that I was, couldn't ignore a dare. So there I found myself, in a tattoo parlor on the seawall somewhere(I lived near and worked in Galveston at the time), with my friend waiting to have my clit pierced. I do not recall how we came to decide on that specific piercing, but I really wish we had just chosen the hood.....
At A Glance Author Holly Golightly Contact Holly Golightly@bme.anon IAM Holly Golightly When Ten years ago or more Artist Don't remember Studio Don't remember Location Galveston, TX I do not really know how much experience this guy had as a piercer. I mean I know he pierced my friend and all of his piercings looked fine, but all of those seemed like they were advertisements, since he gave them to my friend for free for being a cop. Hind sight is 20/20 so retrospectively, I see him more like the tattoo shop owner who was trying to bring more money into the shop by piercing. I didn't realize this until I started apprenticing as a piercer and actually saw how things worked 'behind the scenes'.
So I lay down on this incredibly uncomfortable table. Almost like a massage table, but with less padding. He disappears down there, like the 'girly doctor' does when we go in for our routine oil-change, and starts fiddling around looking for the proper place for the placement the forceps. Obviously he found the spot where HE wanted the piercing to be. He got the forceps out and he crunk those 'sum bitches down so hard I actually screamed, very loudly. There were no rubber bands to hold the forceps on there with an acceptable amount of pressure. Just the click click of him tightening them down like my vagina was going to get up and go somewhere.
He messed with the forceps some more, while they were clamped down on me and it finally appeared as if he was satisfied with their placement, or maybe he was satisfied with the fact that I had laid there in pain for the allotted 'torture' time. He said "Ok, I'm gonna count to three and then there will be a biiiig poke". Damned liar, he said "One -POKE-......" and I arched my back up off of that table and damn near knocked him off of his stool. He only got the lance about 1/2 way through. And when I say through, I do not mean the area behind my clit, he went smack through the middle of my clitoral nerve, about 1/4+ above the hood. Guess that was where he figured it was supposed to go? That was not really where we had discussed placing it, but whatever, he's the professional right?
I don't think it's a really good idea to sneak up on someone that way while doing a piercing like that. Had he given me the full one, two and, three; I am sure I would have braced myself the way I needed to and maybe he could have gotten that lance through in one fell swoop.
So by now, I'm like 'OKAY! Lets just get this shit over with' and my friend (you remember, the one who dared me into this wonderful predicament) had to lay across me to forcefully hold me down for the second half of the push.
I do believe that I can tolerate pain very well. I pierce myself quite frequently and fall asleep during lengthy tattoos. But this pain, that I felt that day, was like none I had ever felt before or since (and I have a child). There were these rinky dink handles that had obviously been rigged to the table. I pulled one off and almost crushed my friends arm in the process.
Going through my clitoral nerve was not only extremely painful but was just plain 'ol wrong. I could have sustained serious damage from the actual puncture of the nerve or from an infection inside the nerve sheath. I could have sustained decreased sensitivity to my most precious nerve or permanently lost the ability to have an orgasm all together. -EEEEK-
Needless to say, the piercing was VERY crooked. Thankfully no one really saw it, other than that friend. I never reaped any sexual pleasure from this piercing. It never quite felt right and never looked like it was healing at all. I kept the piercing in for a couple of months, until right before I left to move up here and start the police academy. I didn't want that thing getting me injured during any fights.
Lesson learned? You bet...
It wasn't until recently that I wanted to become a piercer, but that experience, eight or nine years ago, is always in the back of my mind when dealing with someone in the shop.