Chapter 4 : The Piercings

But once, some time later, he enjoyed hurting her more, maybe because this time he did it in a more sophisticated way. It was at her place. Earlier in the week, on his order, she had ordered a piercing kit on Amazon. Earlier that night he had sodomized her with a condom then emptied it a small tumbler glass. The white liquid came about halfway to the rim, and he left it ostensibly on the bedside table. She lay on the bed, her legs spread, her fingers pulling away the hood of her clitoris, and looked at the glass avidly, hoping his fun would be fast and not hurt her that much. Meanwhile he took some time reading the instructions, sitting on the bed, his still dirty penis lolling on the sheets.

“I hope I do it right,” he said. “If I butcher your body and don’t like it anymore, I’ll have to abandon you and find some other woman. Neither of us wants that. Well, here goes nothing.”

It would hurt her, she knew. But all she could think about was his semen, somewhere in her. It filled her vision, the small glass like a vertiginous ocean. Had she been allowed, she might have stretched her arm, and grabbed it without rising.

The tool to pierce her flesh consisted of two parts that slid apart and together on plastic rails. In a rather tawdry metaphor, one sported a wide, pointy, cruel-looking needle, and the other a hole to receive it. He snapped them together and apart several times, to make sure he got it right. Then he poured rubbing alcohol on two cotton pieces. With the smaller one he wiped the tool; with the larger, her hole vulva. The liquid on her intimate flesh felt cold and burnt slightly. A little of it trickled down to her anus, which ached faintly. He washed his hands with some more alcohol and, after some consideration, pulled on the left wing of her short inner lips and slid it, as much as he could, between the two pieces of the tool.

“Remember you can say no,” he said affectlessly. “Say no, and I won’t be angry. I’ll just leave with my semen you like so much, maybe forever.”

She did not truly like it, she reflected. It felt more like an absolute craving, an unforgiving need.

“Or ask me to pierce you, nicely, and I’ll let you have the glass later.” “Please, sir, pierce my pussy.” She could tell he knew how much she resented him; no one who did not know that would enjoy making her play nice that much. “Fine.” And he pierced her.

It hurt more than the blows, more than the first time ever he had sodomized her, roughly. The pain tore and radiated through her, as if he had ripped away her whole crotch. It subsided a little, then exploded anew when he forced the stud into the wound. Halfway through it jammed, poked her raw flesh so hard she bucked. He pulled it back a little, then forward again and, once the tip appeared on the other side, turned it around like an awl, and capped it with a small metal ball at each end.