Horizontal Hood Piercing
At A Glance Author shiva Contact shiva@bme.anon When N/A Location Brisbane My first introduction to the visual beauty of female genital piercings was through porn. Not exactly porn itself, as a verb, just nude women. The aesthetics was the first reason I wanted a hood piercing. Few things are more beautiful (to me) than a woman who is naked but for her piercings and tattoos.
At that point I had a good few ear piercings from my teenage years, lip ones too, and wanted a metal rod through a much more sensitive place. Piercings are wonderful things, especially when they are trouble-free. The cringe-inducing thought of failed or infected or torn piercings in extremely sensitive places held me back for quite a while. Horror stories stick in there a lot better than the gushing about how good it was and I'm a slight wuss when it comes to pain. I have my freak-out for however many months it takes me to get in the chair, and then the endorphins take over and it's a sweet rush. I know many people feel the same, or even better.
Then there's the sensory reward, the knowledge that you have a new piercing, and it's like falling in love. I suppose it is, on a level. Anyway: there is this woman in the photos, modeling herself as an art piece, with a ring and captive bead through her clitoral hood, and I decided that no matter the pain I had to have one. Then whilst doing research on other people's experiences of this sexually oriented piercing, I found this website and lurked for a while. This is really the best and most comprehensive one I've ever seen, as well as the most progressive. The extremist in me wants one of everything, and this results in me holding back and 'waiting till I grow out of it' but by now I've been forced to accept that this is never going to happen. Bodymods are endless sources of fascination, and thankfully there are kindred spirits out there.
Fads circulate with a high rate of general success in this town, and hood piercings were one of them. The girls I interact with in several social circles all seemed to get one overnight, and most of them would remove them before the year turned; but while it was all the rage I got as many opinions as possible on the artists and actual experience.
One studio got practical rave reviews, and I think the piercer himself was actually fairly well known even in other cities for his professional, dedicated work, but sadly my short-term memory is shot to pieces and I've never been good with names of people or places. When I get my next piercing, I'll make an effort to record the place and artist, since fidelity seems to reward in this relationship. If you're ever in the area though, anyone with a piercing is bound to provide this information, since this guy seemed to make devoted fans of his customers, almost.
So I made the call, set a date and time, and went shopping for groceries and whatnot to pass the time and walk some of the anxiety off. Didn't help much, I was pretty high on nervous adrenaline for the whole half-hour I loitered and paced outside the shop. Your privates is pretty different to almost every other piercing you can get, preceding that. I was kinda enjoying it, somehow. No doubt others have similar feelings before entering the studio for their latest.
I checked out the photo albums and glass display cases featuring happy clients and some simply exquisite, original jewelry. Normally looking at 'bling' leaves me cold, but when it's a piercing I'm going to wear personally and internally, I get starry-eyed. When the artist was done with his customer I went into the studio and read the various pages of warnings, disclaimers, ad nauseum, while the man prepared his tools. Signed, discussed what I wanted down to the minutest detail almost, and then to the really uncomfortable part: dropping my pants. Mind off, auto-mode, like I normally am when I'm getting a new piercing, I dropped my pants and sat back on the chair. There was some cleaning solution, awkward application, but he was very professional and meticulous. None of that was enjoyable, but I was in control (read lock-down) and deathly calm because come hell or high water, I was going to get this piercing!
Yeah, but I already told you I'm a wussy. Then the endorphins had hit an all-time high and it was really really good. Stupefyingly good, in fact. Maybe that's part of the reason I keep adding to my list of piercings? I wasn't really looking, just concentrating on the sensations with more attention that I normally give to anything physical. I felt the skin pulled beyond capacity, but there was no pain; there never is when it's time to get pierced. The needle popped through, he fiddled with the ball for a bit, and then there was incredible heat. I was almost deliriously happy, except in a really peaced out way. I'm sure you know how that is. It looked beautiful.
Despite all the warnings, I walked home. I've heard bad experiences with that, but knowing from experience the way I react to new piercings, I thought it would be fine. That had a few sharp edges to it, sensation-wise, but I was still floating. I stuck with the aftercare and it never even hurt, and was pretty much completely fully healed within a week. It's beautiful, and sexually quite a mod.