Fucking HELL,

the front of the shop was delightful. Artistically decorated, nice chairs, plenty of booklets where you could see examples of the guys work. (Not at all keen on the eyeball tattoos!) I chose simple barbells, although in the back of my mind, nipple rings really appeal. Maybe when these have healed I’ll learn how to swap them out.  Then, I met the guy! He looked like a mountaint! Black jeans an T shirt and not a patch of natural skin anywhere. God knows how he gets through airport security because he has more metal in him than the aircraft does!  He had a nice smile though and a friendly voice and recognised Clara instantly. They chatted a bit, including a bit of gentle teasing about ‘down below’. (Clara is considering a vertical clit piercing......no....fucking....WAY!) having decided what I was having he led us into the back and I lay on his chair/table thing. Taking my top and bra off and exposing myself to this total stranger was, as expected, horny, but was also tempered by fear. he handled me with a total lack of shyness though. He felt both my breasts (the nipples need to be erect) and then he marked them both with a surgical pen. Then he measured them.  Having selected the right sized barbells, he told me to lie back and breath deeply. He put a clamp on me for a few seconds....it felt tight and like having a big thumb and finer pinching my boob. “Ok. Here we go. One, two, three” FUUUUUuuuuuuuckkkkkk! A white hot lance of pain shot through my left nipple. It lasted mere seconds at that level, but Jeeez! To my surprise, I also felt my clit jump, and a flood of wetness....just as well I put that panty liner in! he fiddled around a bit and then I saw him drop something into his sharps bin. At least I knew now what was coming. I braced myself, but to my surprise, the right nipple didn’t hurt at all really, but I did feel a tremendous sexual arousal. More than before.  Then he sat me up and gave me a mirror. Wow! Cool! They look really good. Aftercar was explained to me, and then we were outside. Clara asked me how it felt and I told her my clit was jumping and I thought I’d wet myself. ”Hunny, if you’ve peed your panties, then I’m a Dutchman!”  Although they ached, as we walked, all I could think about what the pain I had, the pain to come, and the orgasms that would follow.  It was maybe no surprise that Clara led me straight to the mall restroom. “Go on. I’ll wait.”  Tucked into a cubicle, I knew I mustn’t touch my piercings, but that didn’t stop me hiking my t shirt up and taking my bra off as I stood and masturbated.  When I felt the orgasm approaching, I sat down. Just as well, because when it hit, I both squirted and peed....and the cum seemed to last forever. Also, taking a leaf out of Clara’s book, I made a LOT of noise. Fuck whoever heard. afterward, I sat and giggled too. The line from “When Harry Met Sally” ran through my head “I’ll have what she’s having”. Another panty liner, the previous one being throroughly wrecked and I know I will leak for a while, and Clara and I had a great afternoon shopping.  Pain, then? Am I really a pain girl? No. Not considering what some will do for it. I think I just like a little now and then. fuck, but these look good though!