So, I’m not a masochist.
Okay, actually, I am, but not in like an “I have a dungeon that I yell out ‘Spank Me, Spank Me!’ all night long.”
I just like a little bit of pain, in and out the bedroom. I don’t see nothing wrong with it, in the smexy room, as long as its consenting adults. And outside of the bedroom, well that’s where tats and piercings come in.
I have 9 piercings: 3 in each ear, nose, and the girl giggles. I got those back when I was 20 after a guy I really wanted to look beautiful for said I would be a perfect woman if I wasn’t so flat chested ( was really skinny and my B cup had went to an A). And because I’m a special kind of crazy, to deal with my depression over being a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, but not wanting fake boobs, I decided to decorate them.
I finally took them (the giggles decorations) out after about 10 years. Not because I didn’t like them anymore, but because I grew happy with my fate of a b-cup. But the piercing, oh god. The day I went in I will always remember. None of the other piercings hurt, just a quick twinge. The giggles? That way like a stab all the way to my soul. And it made those darn things so sensitive, like never before. I’d have to stop myself from playing with them in public, because it was just so fun.
I also have 4 tattoos, on my arms and back. Every time, for the tats at least, I ended up enjoying the feel of the needle. Afterwards, I’d be relaxed like… smexy times. The first time it happened, I figured it was a fluke. That was with one of my arm tats. Then I got the first one on my back a year or so later. Oh My Sweet Baby Jesus.
It was Heaven. It was honestly mentally and emotionally orgasmic. It was a physical release of all the stress and sadness and anger and depression my young self had built up.
I seriously said to the artist afterwards, in a somewhat breathy voice “Thank you so much. I needed that.”
It lasted much longer than a traditional “gasm” too. For months, if someone ran their hand along my back where the tattoo was located, it gave me some iiiiinteresting shivers. And the same happened whenever I got the next couple of tats: tattoogasms. The pain, not exactly pain, but a deep kiss and bite through my skin.
Is it any wonder that some years after my last tattoo that I say I want another? Tattoos and piercings ARE addictive in their own way, for me anyways. And not because of the decoration. But for the intense feelings they bring. Nope, I don’t have a whip and leather, or a dungeon for someone to spank me, but I do have an outlet every once in a while for that want of a little nice pain. Don’t worry, I never say to the artist “Hurt me Tattoo Master! Hurt me so good!”
Um, that would just be weird. No telling what I’m thinking when I’m in that chair though 😉