Dani's New Movie
Copyright© 2026 by robertl
Chapter 13
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 13 - Dani's studio wants her for another movie
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Sharing Wife Watching Light Bond Exhibitionism
Monday morning, August 23, 2021
The first thing, they presented me with at the tattoo parlor was the bill, payable in advance, fifty dollars per piercing, seven-hundred-fifty dollars for the tattoo design, and thirty-seven-fifty for the tattoo, forty-six-fifty total, payable in advance.
So, I counted out the money from the five-thousand I’d brought.
I’d been told to wear something loose, so wore the dress that I’d bought for my maddening-to-the-extreme meeting with Daryl and Daryl.
The first thing that Erin, the piercer had me do was pick out jewelry for my piercings, I chose a gold ring for my nose and two slightly smaller ones for my navel. Then I prepared myself mentally. My last piercings were my ears when I was barely a teenager. I still remembered how those had hurt and was tensed when she put the little apparatus in my nose, waiting for the pain when she pulled it out and said it was done.
I’d felt a tiny pressure in the center of my nose, nothing else. She daubed a tissue on it and showed me what looked like a single drop of blood, then snapped the ring in place and told me, “Be careful with them, especially the next few days, then after a couple weeks you can come back and pick out something more permanent, or even a variety.”
Then the same on the top and bottom of my navel, it was no more than fifteen minutes and she was done with all three piercings. I looked in the mirror and giggled, they reminded me of native girls with their piercings. All I needed was to start putting hoops around my neck, adding one every week or so to stretch my neck. Not gonna happen!
I did think the rings were kind of sexy though. They sure felt funny, especially the one in my nose
“You do know, there’s other piercings that a lot of women have done,” she told me “top or bottom lip, nipples, clit, chastity...”
She’d gone on, and I’d at least heard of all of them, not interested. But my brain stopped functioning when I heard the word ‘chastity’.
“Chastity? How does that work?” I asked her.
She smiled, she has a very fetching smile, “That’s the question I get asked most often, whenever I mention the word.” She swiveled her chair and opened a thin drawer on the cabinet next to her, “There’s cheaper alternatives we can do, but this is the one we like best. Also, naturally, quite expensive. This little device...” It was about a three-inch long, odd-shaped metal rod, gently curved from one end to the other, with about a three-eighths – half-inch inch diameter metal ring in each end.
“It’s called a Vagiblok. We make four piercings, two on each side of your labia, then another two, spaced apart depending on the length you choose. The rings go through the piercings, essentially stitching that part of the labia together, then the rings go through the holes in the end of the rod, which will be just inside your labia, blocking access to the vagina, preventing any penetration or stimulation.”
She stood and walked over to another drawer, pulling out a fake pussy, then sat back down “This is how it looks and works, try and poke your finger inside, you’ll see why the odd shape of the rod.”
I tried pushing my little finger inside. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t get my finger past the rod. “So, this is ... permanent?” I asked her.
She laughed, “Oh no, only for whatever duration you want, there’s this little clasp on the rings, kind of like on a necklace chain.” She showed me, easily taking one off, “just flip the clasp and you can slip the vagiblok right off of it.” She showed me, opening the two rings, and slipping the device off of them, then putting them back on, hooking one end of the device in each ring “Just like any other piercings, you need to keep something in them or they’ll grow closed like any other piercing,” and she showed me a couple of smaller rings. “These are put in whenever the girl isn’t using the vagiblok to prevent that.”
“There is one TINY little caveat though, there’s an app you put on your phone, when the vagiblok’s in place, the clasps lock closed so they won’t release for whatever length of time you set it for in the app, it’s an hour minimum but no maximum. It can be set for any time, days, weeks, months, or even up to a full year, depending on how long the girl wants to deprive herself.”
My mouth was gaping, I’d never heard of such a device, no way could I ever do that to myself!
I shuddered, wondering, ‘why?’. “Does it ever ... not unlock?” I asked her.
“No, they tested hundreds of devices for thousands of times, there was never a single failure, it’s even FDA approved,” she said, “and the device is medical grade titanium, so it’s perfectly safe. It and the locking rings are hard too, almost impossible to remove other than unlocking.”
I was confused, “Why? Why would a woman do that to herself?”
She smiled again, I loved her smile, “Honey, you ever deny yourself for long periods then experience the orgasm that follows?”
I thought back to that long time in Montana, what it was like that first time after. I nodded, “I have, I guess I can understand a little.”
“A lot of women want that high but don’t have the willpower. This is a lot easier and less obtrusive than a chastity belt or any of the other chastity methods. A lot of women enjoy that constant turned-on feeling that gets stronger and stronger as time passes because they can’t do anything about it. Others just like to torment their boyfriends or husbands.”
“Not for me,” I told her, shaking my head, and we were done. I shuddered just thinking about it. NEVER!!
“This is going to be moderately painful. Sorry, but we can’t put anything on it to deaden the pain. It’ll be tolerable though, like tiny pinpricks,” Mark, the tattoo artist told me. He was a man, probably mid-fifties, give or take a decade or so.
I won’t say I wasn’t scared, I’d heard the horror stories of how painful a tattoo can be. When I’d asked Audrey, my police detective ‘coach’ about hers, she laughed and said it wasn’t nearly as bad as people make it out to be. “Not overly pleasant though, either,” she’d added.
“Here, wear this mask,” Mark, who was currently examining my naked body where the tattoo would be, told me, “Tattoos are works of art, we don’t want you to see until it’s completed.”
I was laying on a cushioned table, much like a massage table, my legs slightly spread apart, rumblings going through my brain that this was crazy, that I should get up and run for my life.
I didn’t though, even when I heard him say, “Here we go, try to relax and not to flinch, stay as still as you can. If you need a break, just say so.”
‘Relax, don’t flinch’ the man says, yeah right!
I felt the first pinprick, it felt like when a phlebotomist pokes to draw blood, just a tiny poke, the first of what would eventually be thousands.
“We’ve set aside Wednesday too, I hope that’s okay, with the colors it’s going to be at least three days, possibly four, but I doubt it. We’ll break for lunch then work until probably mid-afternoon and see how we’re all doing.”
And it became one pinprick after another, like tiny insect bites, more irritating than painful.
The blindfold was the most irritating. For one thing, I wanted to see what he was doing, and it heightens every sensation. The other was the time, it’s just impossible to judge time when blindfolded, it seems to drag on forever.
He had me sit up for lunch, a ham sandwich and Diet Pepsi. He handed me a white gown and took the blindfold off, and we relaxed and chatted for half an hour. I was aching to see the work he’d already done, but it was fully covered.
After another interminable, blindfolded time after lunch, he announced that he was done for the day. He rubbed a cream where he’d worked, then covered it with gauze, and told me not to remove it.
I was exhausted, I had no idea how tiring it could be, lying for hours, being told not to move.
On my way back to my apartment, it hit me, I was going to my NEW apartment, and it made me smile. Now, all I needed to make life nearly perfect was a car. Well, that and my husband here with me. I missed him ... and the fucking he’d give me every night when I told him about my adventures at the club. Or a boyfriend...
I talked to Robert nearly every night, but hadn’t heard a word from Brandon. No doubt he’d moved on to a new girl in a new city. Ah well, it had been fun while it lasted. Maybe in Seattle, after his season...?
Maybe, I’ll introduce Jen to him, a threesome?
I checked my phone for the first time today, it’d been stuffed away in my purse, a text from Katie, ‘Apartment all done, Petey and I got your things from the old apartment too, left the old key in the office mail slot. Your new key’s in the office, be there by six.’
‘Petey’, I think that was the first time she’d mentioned her boyfriend’s name. I crinkled my nose, feeling the nose ring I now had, weird feeling, what a name!
I checked my watch, five-till-four, plenty of time, even time to stop and buy a couple more dresses. I didn’t want to wear the same one three days in a row.
I hoped they could finish the tattoo Wednesday, I had other things I wanted to do Thursday, my last day off.
My apartment was ... I loved it! Everything was arranged just like I’d told Katie, and I went in my bedroom, throwing myself on the new bed. Ahhh, it felt so good after the dirty, lumpy thing I’d been sleeping on.
I looked around and had to laugh at my things that Katie and her boyfriend had brought over, all together, they wouldn’t fill the ‘frunk’ of Katie’s Prius.
I checked the refrigerator, yep, my half gallon of nonfat milk, jar of nonfat salad dressing, six eggs, and my cans of soup and Wheaties were in the cupboard, the sum-total of food I owned. Oh, forgot the tomato on the counter.
She hadn’t made the bed though, my blanket and sheets were just piled on top. I’d have to speak to her about that. The help you get these days!
Seriously, I knew how fortunate I was to have a friend like Katie. I was so glad I’d trusted her with my secret real life.
A little after ten, I knew Robert would be home from the store so called him. I told him about the apartment but nothing about my piercings or the tattoo. I was going to try and hide them from him as long as I could, probably not until I went home in November, but I was going to try. Of course, they’ll be kind of hard to hide the first video I send him.
I slept like a baby, the first time not on a lumpy mattress since my last night with Brandon ... and I smiled, remembering. There hadn’t been a lot of sleeping that night, or any other night with him.
Well, I guess the night with Gary wasn’t on a lumpy mattress either, not much sleep that night either.
Thinking about those before I got up Tuesday for another day of mild torture made me horny, not that it took a lot. It had been three lonely nights after Gary and that was an eternity to me, not a single orgasm since.
I could see the handwriting on the wall, how that first night back in the club was going to be ... and just thinking about it nearly gave me an orgasm.
Tuesday and Wednesday were pretty much the same as Monday, me lying flat and still on their cushioned table, except Wednesday, he worked much longer, then announced, “We’re done.”
I felt like jubilation! I’d done it, three days of pinpricks!
“You want to see now?” Mark asked me.