Life sometimes offers us an opportunity to revisit an event of the past and have the pleasure of completing it in a way that was not possible in that past. To put right some ills or disappointments.
One of the earliest posts on this blog was about the time my former mistress arranged an appointment at her favourite piercing parlour for me to have a PA (Excuses, Excuses . . .).
It didn’t go exactly to her plan. We ended up in the coffee shop over the street talking through the experience and her disappointment. It’s one of those episodes that’s become something of a favourite reminisce for both of us. It told us a lot more about “us” than if it had been successful.
I can now see an historic hint of melody in the fact that I’ve wanted to have my ears pierced for the best part of 30 years. Always there were family, social and career inhibitions in going through with it. Too much stigma and too much explaining to do, especially in the family context. My mother never had hers pierced and rarely wore clip-ons. I don’t think she would have come to terms with seeing me with earrings. The recent ‘outing’ conversation with the father removed the family context and gave a green light to the idea.
All in all, the omens signified cosmic alignment and it seemed to be the right time to go and do it.
Even so, melody is not yet used to public appearances and reassuring company is a useful crutch. Besides, I have no idea about these kinds of things and someone more knowledgeable i.e. every female; would be a great help.
There was only one sentimental choice. After all the intervening years, I had to offer the former mistress the opportunity to close the chapter on unfinished business.
The trip into the city was rather more relaxed this time. I maybe dressed on the slightly feminine side of androgynous but at the same time I’m rather more gregarious than I was all those years ago when there was no melody on show.
On arrival at the piercing parlour – yes, the same one – there was a waiting time of about an hour. With some advice I chose the earrings to be inserted and then we both consciously knew that the only place to spend that hour was the same Costa coffee shop. The conversation was less subdued than last time. Not least because I wasn’t retreating in to non-vocal subspace as I did back then.
Back at the parlour and invited up to the waiting room, a couple of customers ahead of us. We do have to be careful in that type of setting as our conversation is rarely about innocuous vanilla topics.
Of course there was a contrast with last time, despite all the little flashback reminders. It was the same room and couch, though the piercer was female. I’m reliably informed that she’s a domme and it kind of showed through her professional front. Especially the slightly wicked grin when I said I was quite familiar with having needles stuck in me. All those years ago I barely said a word to the male piercer. Now I was in full banter with this female one as she commented that my lobes had very deep dimples at just the right places. The quick response was something I couldn’t have done not so long ago – I quipped that it was from wearing clip-ons, some with quite vicious clips.
Moments later we were all aligned up and at the business end.
I don’t have to tell most of this audience what it was like, they already know. A small sting in the left ear, some fumbling to insert the earring and a repeat in the right ear.
The former mistress was grinning like a loon. Finally a closure after all those years despite the fact that I was doing it for me this time and not at her bidding. That I was sharing because of the history was more than enough for her now.
And then we were out, heading back to the car and a late lunch at a nice pub to talk of the mutual pleasure in closing something that had been hanging over us for so many years.
We both noted the almost perfect symmetry of that closure. From:
- Almost silent journey in to town
- Enter the parlour
- Waiting room in mono syllabism
- Piercing room, the bench, the disappointment
- The tense walk out of the parlour
- Coming down over coffee
- Lively discussion driving in to town
- Enter the parlour
- Go for a relaxing coffee and chat
- Piercing room, the bench, the inserted studs
- Off for a nice lunch
We weren’t sure if the ones inserted were what I chose. We couldn’t remember the chosen studs being sparkly. There’s a real glint when these catch the light.
And the final element of that inhibitions list ? If anyone at work has actually noticed, they haven’t said a word.
As a postscript, I fiddled too much trying to work out how they came off and lost the end of one of them (it screwed off). A great excuse for going to see the domme wearing some signature ones that match the pendant she gave me.
Written for the #WickedWednesday prompt of “Pleasure”. Why not go check out the other posts by clicking on the button.