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  • I am an exhibitionist when it comes to BDSM. I like to share my kink and my art with others. I like to feel the rushing exchange of energy between me, my play partners, and the audience. I like to lay bare my soul for everyone to see, because I want them to know that I am beyond human. In those moments I am pain personified. I am catharsis only barely bound by flesh. The last time I found transcendence on that level was during my water boarding scene with Ma'am. Every time she screamed "DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT EDGE PLAY IS?" I knew it was an opportunity for blind passion. Every time I screamed back "YES!" I could feel the transformation shaking through me and ripping apart my inhibitions layer by layer. When I scream, I scream so that everyone present can share in my suffering. I cry in awe of what I am capable of.

    This past Friday, I did another stage performance with my Ma'am and Zig Zag the dog. This performance was one of those moments of exquisite catharsis. It was by far the most intense, beautiful, profound, and fulfilling experience I have yet undergone.

    Ma'am and I picked up peacock feathers the morning of Friday's Club Debauched for our performance. She had the needles prepped that afternoon, feathers already attached. That evening we did private protocol and meditation to prepare me for the scene, because it was going to be extremely heavy, more heavy than anything I had previously done. I have done plenty of needle play before, but I had never taken as many needles as we were intending for that night, and I had never done a rope suspension with needles in, which we were also planning.

    When the time came, the stage was prepared with a sterilized table, holding the needles and antiseptics, as well as bandages. Three candles stood lit at the edge of the stage, casting a beautiful glow over the scene. I sat straddling a chair, the dog kneeling on the other side so I could grip his paws, my Ma'am sitting behind me in her smock and gloves. I braced myself for the pain.

    As the first needle went in, I groaned a little and sucked in a breath, then triumphantly shouted "ONE!" as I felt the point break through the skin on the other side. With each needle, the pain increased, both because we were moving lower down the back and because increased blood flow because of the wounds also increased sensitivity.

    I screamed, so much. I was sobbing and shaking. I knew that everyone was watching me as I cried, and I saw them flinch when I screamed. That was okay. I wanted everyone to see me crucified for art. Twelve needles later, and I had to stop because my limbs were shaking uncontrollably. I had still beaten my previous record of nine needles, but I was not done for the night yet. My limits could still be pushed farther, and they would be. That night my previous records for pain and beauty would be swept away completely.

    When Ma'am finished the last piercing, I took a few minutes to drink some water and eat a small cookie. I breathed; I calmed my shakiness. Ma'am and I hugged, bonded by our connection in exchanging agony. Her embrace gave me the strength to keep going even though my body felt close to overload. I told her that I didn't think I could spin once I was suspended, because I was afraid the wind resistance on the feathers would rip out the needles. I would end up being wrong.

    Ma'am laid down on the floor of the stage on her back and I laid face down on top of her, my weight supported by her, one leg raised so Cassie could rig up my ankle for the inverted suspension. I could feel the feathers in my back wobbling and shifting, tugging on my skin. Ma'am coached me in breathing, and I focused on the music playing to get me in the headspace for flying.

    When Cassie finished tying me, she started pulling the rig up. I placed my palms on the ground as my legs were dragged upwards. My Ma'am supported me until I was fully in the air, then let me go. I hung by one ankle, my feathers trembling. In that moment, I knew I had to spin. I could NOT be here, in this place, in this headspace, could not have undergone so much pain, without truly flying. "SPIN ME!" I screamed. "FUCKING BRING IT ON!"

    And they did. It was the most beautiful headspace I have ever experienced, the most incredible feeling. I screamed in pain as I felt the wind pulling against my needles, tugging at my flesh. I gritted my teeth as I twisted in the air, my every movement reminding me that I was wounded and suffering. I was utterly lost in the moment, consumed by awe at how much I could endure for art and beauty, and completely high from endorphins throughout it all.

    When I finally came down, I laid face down on the stage in exhaustion while Cassie untied me. Ma'am had already pulled out the needles while I was in the air, and now she treated the punctures with alcohol, mopping up the blood with paper towels. She finished the cleanup with a couple hard slaps over the wounds that started me crying again, but I was happy. I was ecstatic. I was damn well ready to go to sleep, but I was so incredibly proud of myself. I just saw the photos from that scene for the first time today, shortly before writing this. Seeing them makes me tear up, because I can't believe that I could do something so breathtakingly beautiful. I have seen photos and videos of my suspensions before, and though they were awe-inspiring to me, they were nothing like this. I have never seen myself look so beautiful, so strong, and so emotionally exposed as I do in the photos of the piercing and suspension.

    It is experiences like these that remind me I am alive, and remind me what it is I live for.
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