10A.5 Ritual Nipple Piercing (Male)
Description
This article is from the Piercing FAQ, by Anne Greenblatt with numerous contributions by others.
10A.5 Ritual Nipple Piercing (Male)
by Phaedrus, edited by Anne Greenblatt 1994
I pondered whether or not to crosspost this to rec.arts.bodyart and I
chose not to. Mainly because I am rather unfamiliar with that group,
and there is enough non-vanilla in my post to warrant not posting
there. If a reader familiar with r.a.b. feels that this experience
would benefit that group, then by all means feel free to repost it
there.
All names used herein are used with the consent of the owner of said
name. And if you were there and I did not mention you by name, it is
only because I forgot to ask you. It is not because I have forgotten
you.
Right. Onward.
It's been a full 7 days now, and I -think- I've processed enough to be
able to post my piercing experience in a more or less coherent
fashion.
I've been wanting a nipple piercing for over a year now. Some of you
here back then may recall when I first posted about wanting one. Part
of the waiting has been pondering, part because the time was not
right.
So the time was right last weekend. Beverly Block had told me that she
had been trained in piercing. We had talked about it a little over a
year ago, and nothing had been said since. When I saw Bev at a
Berkeley lunch on Friday, I asked her if she would do it at a ritual
the next night.
After lunch and running amok in a certain storefront in Oakland, we
headed across the bay to the Gauntlet. It was wonderful having Bev
with me. She got into a professional argument about ring gauges for
male nipples with a worker at the Gauntlet. And while Bev conceded the
point, it felt good having a knowledgable advocate with me. I picked
out a beautiful gold ring and Bev specified a needle and something
with the ominous name of "pusher". At several points, the Gauntlet
person discussed technique with Bev. Most delightful.
The next afternoon, I opened the Gauntlet bag and checked out the
needle for the first time. I won't say that I came close to backing
out, but I will admit that I thought about it.
That night at the ritual, after opening circle, Bev told those present
that I was to be pierced next. I wanted people who -wanted- to be
there to be present. It may sound strange, but I wanted people to be
there because they wanted to be present, not because I wanted them
there. I have to ponder that further sometime -- there's something odd
there.
Anyway. I notice that Bev is a little nervous and encircle her bicep
to get her attention. We lock gazes, and I tell her to breathe with
me. She calms and returns to preparation.
I'm a little nervous, mainly because I do not know what to expect. My
first piercing ritual, and I'm the piercee. Figures. I feel as if the
ring is -already- in place, and the ritual is only matching realities.
I have my symbols: a length of black ribbon, an amethyst about my
neck, a pewter earcuff. I mention to STella that our symbols are so
much a part of us, and she tells me that we -are- our symbols. Once
again, dear STella, dead on target.
It's time, and I lay down on the table clad only in my standard black
playparty briefs. People gather about me, and I make it clear at some
point that I -want- to be touched. It was at this point that I closed
my eyes and did not open them until I looked at the ring in my body.
I concentrate on my breathing and feel the wonderful energy from my
friends about me. I could almost sense the boundaries of the safespace
that encircled us.
Bev fastens the hemostat on my left nipple and it -HURTS-. Goddam, it
hurts. The stub-your-toe kind of hurt. Oh, lovely, the needle isn't
even present yet and I'm a'hurting. Oh, well, I think.
The pain from the clamp starts to subside. I'm conscious mainly of my
friends touching me. I can't distinguish who is touching me
where...all I can feel is being enfolded in love and caring.
Bev tell me to accept the needle into my body, and it flows into
me. No sensation of pushing, more like the needle was sucked into
me. There is no pain, but rather an intense sensation that I have no
name for. There is, however, and ragged edge to this sensation, and I
do not allow myself to feel that. Rather, I passed that edge on to my
rage which holds an image of my father. Let him feel that ragged edge.
The sensation is an icy clarity similar to that clarity that follows a
mind- shaking insight. That's the closest I can come to describing
it. I hear a most unusual sound, and realize that I am "screaming". I
call it a scream only because I do not know what else to call it. I
have never heard a sound like that before. It is not coming from any
higher level center of my brain. It feels like it is coming from a
deeper, animal part of my physical brain.
Bev asks me if I want to look at the needle, and I tell her no, thank
you, I hate needles. This evokes laughter from the circle.
Suddenly a rush starts at my head and travels down my body and I
realize that Wolf is out. I feel full of the Power around me, and I
hear my body start to growl. A "Yes!" comes from a person over my
head, and the circle feels even more together somehow. Since Wolf
usually only comes out for self-defense or toppish rather violent
lovemaking, I keep an eye on him. This situation is neither and I do
not want him loose. He behaves, enjoying the feeling of the Power the
ritual has evoked.
I'm so busy watching Wolf that I do not notice Bev taking the needle
out or inserting the ring. I do notice that something has happened to
disturb Bev, though I haven't a clue what it was. There's some sort of
blaming going on, so I pull out the old joke about the blame stage of
a project should be the -last- phase of a project and we aren't there
yet.
Bev tells me that I can look at the ring now, but before I do I make a
Gift to those with me.
I finally open my eyes and look into a small mirror Bev is holding. It
is -beautiful-! Just how it is supposed to look. The realities have
merged, and that brings me a warm glow of completion.
Ah. The gold ball is lost. That was the disturbance earlier. No
matter. Even that occurrence feels right to me. The entire sequence
of events feels perfect to me. I would not change a thing.
The circle slowly dissipates, and STella stays close to me as I slowly
rise up in stages. Very slowly. I stumble about the dungeon for a bit,
just to prove to myself that I can, then collapse on a handy
bed. People wander by and now and again a friend cuddles and talks
with me.
To those of you who shared this wonderful event in my life with me:
thank you. I feel a bond with each of you. And, now that I am back in
Illinois, I miss you terribly. It's funny, but all I have to do is
look at my ring to remember the feelings of being with you in that
circle.
And thank you, Beverly. You nor anyone else could have done better.
Postscript: the next day, I got an amethyst bead to replace the gold
one that was lost. The ring achieved its proper state much faster
because the original bead was lost. I am very pleased.
And, btw, my nipple is healing -very- nicely.
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