Master has been talking a lot about what other modifications he wants to make to me. At the moment, nipple piercing and a tattoo of his monogram on my left ass cheek are high priorities on his list.
He keeps asking me, “What’s going to happen to these nipples? What’s going on your ass?” These two questions are easy enough to answer and I’ve answered them at least once a day for the past few weeks, or it could even be a couple of months now. The questions that follow these two questions are the slightly more sticky ones.
“Do you want me to pierce your nipples? Do you want to wear my monogram?”
Now, if they ain’t two loaded questions, then my ass loves butt plugs. How are you supposed to answer something like that?!? My answer of choice, of course, would be “Hell, no!!!!” But apparently that answer isn’t supposed to come out of ‘good slavegirl’s’ mouths. So the way I get around it is generally to say , “Yes and no.” And if I’m really fearing for my ass, I’ll say, “Yes and no, Master.”
Tattoo pain doesn’t bother me. My tattoo on the right cheek was a tingly, buzzy kind of thing. After it was done I casually mentioned to Master that for his next slave he should alter the order of things…get the tattoo…THEN get the piercings.Give your next slavegirl a chance to work up to these things!
I know it sounds petty, but what bothers me most about it is the design. This is something that I have to wear forever and ever and monograms or initials just ain’t cool. It’s like getting “Mum” tattooed on your bicep-you’ve either gotta to be (a) so drunk you don’t know what you’re doing, (b) in a back alley of bangkok or (c) a fashion victim.
I understand that he wants to mark me as his property and I know he has a compulsion for putting his name on everything that he owns…*points to the Dymo label makers both manual and electronic in his possession and the array of felt-tip markers for writing on book spines…but a part of me thinks that it is too early for something as defining and indelible as initials.
Piercing pain, however, does bother me. Aftercare bothers me even more. I’d rather get a tooth or even several teeth pulled than go through piercing shit again. I had nine teeth pulled as a teenager, big, mother fucking teeth with roots that were an inch and a half long so I know what I’m talking about here. Seriously. I’m being deathly serious here. A few months after I got my labia piercings done I was having problems and I thought that they might have to be taken out and I was thinking ‘Fuck I’ve come this far, I ain’t losing them now.’ Now I’m at the point where I’m just so, so over them and would take them out in a flash if I could because I know it would stop the pain.
But, like anything, I guess it’s not really up to me and at the end of the day, he’s going to do whatever he wants, just because he can.