Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

It all started with the butt bow.

My girlfriend had kept it when she’d cut my dress off of me six months earlier, and all of a sudden she was holding the hideous thing over my head… or more accurately over my ass.

“I’m going to pierce you and stick this to your butt,” she said jokingly.

Horrified at the thought of a blood borne fashion faux pas, I tried to forestall her, “If  you wait, I’ll get you some matching red ribbon and you can do a corset piercing with the bow placed neatly at the bottom.”

“Oooh,” she said, “that’s actually a pretty cool idea.”

Thinking it through a little more, I agreed, and we made plans to make art at a party we were planning on attending the next time we saw each other. After all, we reasoned, if we were going to do something that nifty we wanted an audience for it… and photographs.

It worked out great.

Want to see? Click on the more tag below. I didn’t want to freak anyone out who is bothered by piercing or who is used to this being a text based blog and thus marginally safe for work.

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…of my massive net-crush on Monk*, an offhanded remark he made on the most recent Mistress’ Podcast inspired me to e-mail my favorite piercing partner and ask her if she might want to do a scene involving her piercing me in artistic patterns and then attaching googly eyes to the piercings so that I can run around pretending to be the avatar of a vengeful all-seeing goddess. She, being the sort of giddy and ridiculous person she is, gleefully assented. Unfortunately, I’m probably not going to see her for another 8 months or so (*weep* - I miss her a lot), but at least that gives me a lot of time to acquire supplies.
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*Monk, Alton Brown, Eddie Izzard, the 10th Doctor… no, when it comes to having crushes on men I will probably never meet, I don’t have a type at all. Highly verbal, geeky, and goofy much? *sigh* I’m so predictable.

I have discovered a terribly effective way to hit on someone for play. You just have to say “Reading Wendy’s post about you made me want to fling myself at you.” Whee! She was totally right. That man does, in fact, have some very pretty knives and certainly knows how to use them. That was fun. I do have to learn, at some point, to negotiate when knives are involved, because pretty man + pretty knives meant I completely forgot to say “I have an audition in two days and am planning on wearing a low cut shirt so please be careful about marking me *here*” until it was too late. Mind you, it was totally worth it, and when the thought came briefly to mind, I threw it out of my head and said “Audition, shmaudition! KNNNIIIVVVEEEESSS.” As it turns out, the one mark I have can probably be either be disguised or written off as a cat scratch, so I may still end up wearing the intended low top. I don’t know why I’m still writing about my sartorial choices, except for the fact that I’m still on Mars.

It wasn’t the knives that put me on Mars. The knives, as usual, just made me want to fuck someone. It was the needles. The top who did the piercing pictured at the bottom of this post decided to see if she could recreate it, but with perfect symmetry. She almost managed it, but not quite. It didn’t help that for some reason I was tired and the needles hurt more than they did last time - so there was less laughing and more screaming*. Still, piercing is something I really enjoy and will not get to do again with the lady in question for the foreseeable future, so when she asked if I wanted more, I said yes.

However, I just couldn’t bear the thought of more needles in my breasts. The way I was processing, or not processing, the pain was going to have me screaming more and it just wasn’t a good place for that. So I suggested that I sit up so that she could pierce my back. Oh baby was that fun. Apparently what she was doing to my breasts was “nice piercing” (straight in and out) and what she was doing to my back was “mean piercing” (tucks, twists, threading the needle in and out of my skin five or six times), but while the breast piercing had been painful fun, the back piercing made me actually say to her “You know, I don’t think orgasming from piercing is entirely out of the question.” It felt amazing. The metal under my skin, tugging at me from the inside every time I moved… damn. In a different context that could have been dangerously hot. Unfortunately, when she took the needles out of my breasts so that I could lie on my stomach and enjoy the back piercings I started bleeding like a stuck pig and, although I like blood, the need to do a quick clean up had me coming down from my high, and we ended up just taking out all of them. Oh my god, though, it was fun. The only bad thing about that scene (beautiful woman! needles! blood! really yummy pain!) was that the needles were in my back and I couldn’t see them. Which sucks a lot, since I bet they looked really cool.

Unsurprisingly, that was the scene totally put me on Mars. Halfway through the needles going into my back I realized that, did the concept not so totally and completely wig me out, I would probably really enjoy the sensation of flesh hooks, since what I was getting off on was the feeling of things under my skin pulling at me from the inside. Not, mind you, that I think I’m ever going to do them, but I begin to understand the appeal. Mmmm. A friend of mine looked at me after I had come down enough to put on my clothing again and told me I had the crazy eyes. I totally believe it.

So, so, so the other really cool thing that happened was that I learned about negotiation. As I’ve mentioned in the past, I am an extremely lazy negotiator. However, while lying on the floor with the insanely adorable woman who I am just far too fond of, I discovered that Negotiation Can Be Fun! You can take everything someone asks for literally, and hold them to their requests**! This inspires great creativity and silliness! Plus, making out. I didn’t know that negotiation could lead to making out! Someone should have told me this ages ago and then maybe I would do it more often. This, people, is why learning is a life long activity! Whee.

Speaking of learning… I have discovered that the perfect way to stay out all night is to feed the dog on time, take her for “last outs” at 9 PM, and then not come back home until late enough (between 5-7 AM) that I can feed her, give her her insulin, and go straight to bed. 9 PM is late enough that she can sleep through the night without needing to pee, and it’s much nicer to get home at 5:30 AM, feed her, and go to sleep than it is to get in at 4 a.m., take an hour to fall asleep, and have to wake up to do her morning routine at 7.

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*Originating my favorite quote of the night - “Bite your monkey pants.”
**She asked if she could put her hand in my shirt. Hand. Singular. I agreed to hand. Singular. Much comedy ensued. When I made the same request, more carefully phrased to include both hands, she pointed out she wasn’t wearing a shirt. Curses! Boobs Denied!