At A Glance
Author	soze
Contact	soze@fork-bomb.com
IAM	instigator
When	A month ago
Artist	Scott Jania
Studio	Progressive Piercing
Location	Chicago, IL

Well, there I was in Chicago visiting the 'rents, and what better to pass the time with than a stealth piercing.

I've been looking at genital piercings for months, and had my heart set on a triangle piercing because, you know, I need to be more of a horndog. So I began to research piercers. I had been to most of the piercing establishments in my city when I was checking out tattoo artists (detailed in my epic brother badge experience), and while I'm sure many of the piercers in Albany were competent, I wasn't very comfortable with having someone put a needle through my cooch who wasn't already an established artist at doing it. Hey, you really can't screw up an ear piercing quite that badly, but if you stab me in the clit with a 10g needle I will kick you through a wall. Nothing personal, it's just reflex.

So through all of the usual sifting of experiences and advertisements and recommendations on the #IAM IRC channel, two names continually popped up: Brian at Sacred Tattoo in New York City, and Scott Jania at Progressive Piercing in Chicago. As luck would have it, I visit both cities fairly regularly; I grew up in Chicago and visit my parents often, and the non-profit I work for is headquartered in New York City. Unfortunately, I'm running my ass off every time I go down to Manhattan, and I didn't feel comfortable with having a piercing done and immediately abusing it, so to Progressive Piercing it was for me.

Monday, June 17th, 2004 was the day I had picked out. I had ten bucks loaded up on my CTA card, and $150 in cash burning a hole in my pocket. After some minor scheduling peculiarities, I finally manage to show up at Progressive Piercing, which is actually tucked away in The Alley, which is the Belmont neighborhood's subversive answer to the Mall of America.

Now the first thing you notice about Scott is not his lovely chin tattoo, or the killer tunnels in his lobes, but his eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes that speak of the art and science behind them. I knew the moment I looked at him that he was not just a guy who put holes in people for money, but a real, honest-to-gosh artist.

We discussed what I wanted done, a triangle at 10g, and he took me into the piercing room to have a look-see at the terrain. His piercing room is amazingly outfitted and clinical. Scott was amazingly careful to keep everything clean and me happy and comfortable. He had purple nitrile gloves that he changed compulsively throughout the entire deal. He examined my pink bits and informed me that, while he could perform a triangle piercing, due to the shape of my anatomy it would probably only be irritating and not particularly pleasant.

This brought my herefore lovely day to a crashing stop. I'd been looking forward to this piercing so much. I sat up and asked him if there were any genital piercings that I was suited for, like, say, a vertical clit hood piercing. Again, no go. My hood was of a decent size, but the edge of it was very snug and he feared that having a barbell there all the time would be irritating, or that the ball would get stuck under my hood.

However, I was perfectly suited for a horizontal hood. I said, "let's do it!" Scott asked what size I was thinking about and seemed pleasantly surprised when I told him 10g. I guess most women want them as dainty as possible.

I got dressed again and we went out by the counter to pick out jewelry and sign forms and such. Scott has a very thorough release form that also tries to make sure that you have read the aftercare sheet and understand how to care for your new piercing. He asked me about jewelry; I replied, "piercer's choice!" mostly because I am terribly indecisive. All this time I had been focusing on the piercing itself, the experience; I had never visualized the piercing at all, I was only fantasizing about the feeling of actually having the jewelry in there.

He chose a titanium 7/16" CBR with a plain bead. I signed the forms off, he gave me a number to pay at the main Alley till. I believe the price came to $60 for female genital piercing, $19 for the jewelry, and something like five or six bucks in tax. Not bad at all.

He set all the jewelry and tools he needed up in the autoclave, turned it on, then came back out after setting up. We chatted about jewelry and area piercers for a bit, and then the autoclave beeped that it was done.

We went back into his piercing room where he set up his instruments while I took my pants off yet again. He put down some sterile gauze paper on his medical bed, and got me positioned. He showed me how he wanted me to put my legs; it was a yoga position that would help get me aligned. He cleaned up my genital area, marked a spot with some violet ink, and had me okay it with a hand mirror. He got it just right the first time. Then he ran me through a dry run with no needle or jewelry to get me ready for what was going to happen. All the time his voice was very calm and reassuring and very professional.

I had so much adrenaline pumping through my system at this point because I was actually doing it, I don't really remember the transition between when he was done with the dry run and had the needle. It was so all of a sudden that he had my hood between his fingers and then there was this sudden pain.

It wasn't just pain, though. There was surprise, and shock, and the most amazing sensation. I could feel the needle passing through each layer of skin! It was so interesting, fascinating! I felt the needle penetrate through one side all the way, then continue through the other as it separated the layers and then pushed past them. The most interesting part though, was that the needle felt very dry as the flesh passed the bevel of the needle. I must have given quite the yell when he pierced me, because once he had the needle pushed through and the new pierce all lined up on the bottom of the needle and ready for jewelry, Scott asked if I was all right, if I was okay. I explained things to him.

Then there came the jewelry. When Scott put the jewelry in it felt like a very harsh and sharp pinch. I think it was much worse than the actual piercing even though it went quicker just because there were no other interesting facets to the sensation, just the feeling of a foreign object being pushed through a wound.

Scott spent a couple minutes with a pair of ring closers between my legs to get the ring just so on the bead, then swabbed me up. Apparently I'm quite a bleeder. He gave me a decently sized piece of gauze for my undies, and said no sex for the next week, and sex with barriers for the next three months. Going without sex for the first five to seven days was going to be no problem as I was spending another week at my parents' place while my perma-boyfriend was in Albany, and we fuck with condoms anyway.

I tipped Scott $20 for his beautiful work, thanked him, and shook his hand for his excellent work. He reminded me about the aftercare: dry healing and warm compresses, and washing it a couple of times a day with warm water. I skipped out of The Alley with a goofy smile on my face and called my boyfriend to tell him the news.

The only thing I forgot to ask Scott was what size barbell I should get when I wanted to change my jewelry some months from now. C'est la guerre.

And here's where Scott's going to yell at me. You see, I didn't quite follow the aftercare. My family heals very well; we don't get infections easily, and we don't scar very much either. I've had knee surgery and you can't tell because once the scars had healed decently, I massaged vitamin E oil onto them and they realized they weren't very welcome and just went away. We do very well with the Leave It The Hell Alone method, and we like it. So I didn't really clean it religiously. The next day I got a warm washcloth and soaked off the crusted blood, but other than that I just let warm water rinse over it in the shower; when I washed my cooch I washed around the piercing. My healing regimen was basically an occasional warm compress (in the form of a PowerBook adapter placed on my crotch while wearing pants), wearing clean cotton underwear every day, and leaving it the hell alone to do its healing thing.

Which is exactly what it did, despite the fact that my mom decided that we were going to go power-shopping together the day after the piercing, and despite the fact that my dad decided we were going to go power-drinking at the White Sox game (correction: that should be the MIGHTY White Sox, as he would say). I walked around just fine with it. I doubt my parents know that I did anything out of the ordinary that day, other than go have sushi with an old high school buddy.

While healing, however, there are some things I learned. I had to learn to sit buttfirst rather than crotchfirst. I couldn't bicycle for the first few weeks, which means my legs are still crampy when I get in the saddle; the ergonomic Salsa saddle, by the by, is a wonderful product whose cutout is positioned just right to not put pressure on genital piercings. I had to modify my wiping technique after using the toilet, and I had to completely relearn how to masturbate; humping random things just wouldn't work any more. I did gain sensitivity, though, and I now get quite a kick from squeezing my thighs together just so.

My boyfriend is also pleased with the piercing. He doesn't care much how it looks one way or the other, but the increased sensitivity has made me into even more of a horndog and we've had to cancel on some social engagements because of this piercing.

I really enjoy this piercing, and am thinking of seeing if I have room left for another HCH. If you're ever passing through Chicago, go see Scott. He's a wonderful piercer and a great asset to us all.