Zippers

PART 28

It was probably the worst night I had ever had. The blonde girl, ‘Suka’ Vivienne had called her, had taken me home, thrust me through the door and pushed me into my bedroom. She left a can of spray, some ointment and an instruction sheet on how to care for my piercings. The only thing that she said to me, the whole way back, was that if they got infected and she had to take them out, she would whip my cunt, hard.

I’d spent the evening curled up and crying, waiting for Lisa to come back, needing her to make me feel like a person again. I hadn’t dared undress in case I saw what they had put in my flesh; what they had put into my body. I was not comfortable, curled up, clasping my hands in front of my stockingged shins and lying on my side. The tight leather mini nipped the top of my legs and the tiny jacket held my breathing. I didn’t even take my shoes off.

Every movement of my head caused my earrings to jingle against each other. Every time I looked at my fingers, I saw Trisha’s wicked ‘SLUT’ looking back at me. And every time I looked down I saw my huge, plump breasts bubbling upwards, reminding me of the huge implants they reluctantly housed. 

I wanted to wish it all away. If it had been an option, I would have died right there. I would have taken a suicide pill, cut my wrists or thrown myself from the window. I knew that I had been programmed against all of those things and that I had absolutely no option but to go trough with whatever Vivienne and Trisha had planned. I wanted my friend, she was the only thing in the world that could help. Until Lisa came home though, I was alone. I ran my tongue along the roof of my mouth.

All the way back, I had swallowed and played with my lips and teeth, as if that would help. Every time I felt the metal ball against the roof of my mouth I felt the terrible memory. I was sitting, frozen, stiff in the chair sticking my tongue out as far as it would go waiting for the pain. Needles and scalpels had flashed past my staring eyes.

The stud that ran through my tongue was my greatest humiliation. It conjured up depraved images of tongues, mouths and men’s cocks, images of woman pleasing. That was what it was for. It was a device, installed in my tongue, to feel good on someone else’s genitals. It was a sign of my apparent devotion to oral sex, a commitment to its practice and a badge that made sure everyone knew it.

Worse than that, after the stud was secured, she had injected me under my tongue and then nicked me painlessly with her scalpel. I wasn’t sure what she had done but I worried about it bleeding. My mouth was even more personal than my nipples, it was an even more intimate violation. It was a thick, dull ache in my tongue and a bloody nuisance. I had to think about everything my mouth did and every word I spoke so that I didn’t hurt myself. I hated what they had done so much.

I let the tears flow, hoping that crying would cleanse my mind of the pain and the crushing emotional blackness they had inflicted upon me. My nipples throbbed, rubbed and aggravated by the course lycra of my purple boob tube. I wasn’t going to remove it though.

Gingerly I had slid my finger down, stopping at the thin wall of leather between my legs. I felt the numb stinging inside there too. I snatched the slightest of smiles at the mercy that I didn’t have some vulgar metalwork in my clitoris or my nether lips. It could have been worse, I told myself.

After they had sited the tongue stud, they had moved down between my legs. I had feared that there would soon be needles at my genitals. After the pain of the nipple piercings I don’t think I could have coped with a piercing down there. I was completely distraught, expecting that my mind would cave in.

They had pierced me, but not how I had expected it. At the time I just felt the sting; mild compared to the nipples and tongue. It had seemed so little and then it was all over. They made me look at what they had done. Suka held a mirror up. There were two little balls. The first one bobbled out in the centre, just the hood of my clitoris, and the second one lay a little above the first. There must have been a thin shank of steel inside the skin, connecting them, so that they both held each other in place. Considering what they could have done to me, I was relieved. I didn’t like it though.

Suka had told me that I was not to have my cunt fucked from the front, or to play with myself, until she had seen the piercing and was happy that it had healed. I had blushed at her language and the rules she had given me; she had spoken it as if she was reining in a rebellious nymphomaniac. I was quite happy not to have to entertain anyone there for a while!

I sat there for a good hour before cramp started to set in.

‘Right, I’d better just try and deal with this’ I thought and I pushed myself up to my feet. The piercings weren’t going anywhere but at least I could get out of the stupid outfit.

I shrugged the coat off, unzipped and slid the skirt down and gently peeled myself out of the boob tube. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I bent forward, unbuckled and kicked off my shoes and slipped the stockings off.

There were two pieces of gold hanging from my nipples.

I choked back a sob and quickly covered them with my hands, to try to get them out of my mind. As I did that, I felt them for the first time. I reflexively pulled my hands suddenly away because the tiny movements that I’d caused in the rings tugged at the freshly made holes in my nipples and agitated the little expanding grommets that the girl had cruelly sited there.

‘Oh my God’ I wept, my bottom lip hanging down as I sobbed. I didn’t know what to do. There really was absolutely nothing that I could do.  These rings that they had put in me were terrifying.

I slowly walked over to the mirror on tiptoes.

‘Fuck it’ I had thought, bending over and grabbing the discarded heels on the floor and pulling them onto my feet, leaving the straps hanging loose. There was no need for my calves to be burning unnecessarily from a lack of support.

I positioned myself in front of the long mirror, hoping that I looked ok.

I had stared at myself for a while in a disbelieving trance. My face was a mess of puffy eyes and runny make-up. If I parted my teeth just a fraction, a reflection gleamed out from the shiny ball which bobbed proudly on the top of my aching tongue. I opened my mouth widely and stuck my tongue out. Lifting it up, I could see a small, flat, round plate that sat flush against the underside of my tongue and held the sphere of metal snugly against the top.

I timidly lifted my finger up and very lightly touched the little ball. It was firmly held and the slightest touch on the top moved the metal pin which ran through the raw surface inside my tongue. The sensitivity of my inflamed little organ held my finger in check as I immediately decided that I didn’t want to play with it any more. I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and closed it tightly but there was no escaping the sensation of the metal ball rubbing against the top of my mouth and the dull ache within.

I decided not to play with the nipple rings either. I softly cupped each breast with each hand and lifted them towards the mirror so that I could see them clearly. They were quite terrible. There was no escaping from them, when anyone saw me, they would see a girl with full breasts that clearly bore gold rings with little heart shaped fastenings. I thought of how frightening it had been when Vivienne had held them, how vulnerable it had made me and how much pain she could inflict on me. It wasn’t even as if they were hidden , tucked away in some remote part of my body, they were hanging proudly from exactly my most prominent parts. I wanted so badly to be able to take them out.

I couldn’t stand to look at what I saw in the mirror and ran sobbing to the bed, wrapping myself in the covers to try and hide my body. With the cold sheets pulled tightly round me, I reached, turned out the lights and sobbed to myself quietly until I passed out.

I was awakened by the sound a key rattling in the door to the flat. Thank god, Lisa was back. I heard the door creak open and then click shut. I sat up, still holding the covers around me.

‘It’s only me dear’ came a voice as the door opened and in walked Mistress Vivienne.

My throat tightened instantly and I started with short, rapid breaths.

‘I thought you might be lonely sweetie’, she said, perching herself on the side of the bed next to me.