Through the Eye of the Needle PT2

The endorphins were now flowing freely after being dangled about in the air while she had her way with my – well, my other dangly bits. Laying me down naked on the table, she sits close to me. I can feel the reassuring warmth of her skin as she presses her hip close to me. Now she prepares the next stage of the evening.

The needle.

Calmly she cleaned my skin and explained just where and how she would place the needle. Just above my left nipple, in the muscle where I like to be bitten.

"Now, I want you to take a deep breath and then slowly breathe out"

Nervously I do as she says and am greeted with a sharp, sudden pain. Eyes open wide as my brain tries to process the experience. A warm sting in my chest, followed by a strange tingle, as if stung by a bee. I want to itch at the spot, but I know better. Her hands now caress around the wound, sending waves of sensation. So far so good. It hurts, but I'm still in control. I
may be gripping the sides of the table with all my might, but I can feel my brain start to loose its grip on what is going on. Responding to the pain,my body reacts by washing my system with endorphins.

She steps back to take a photo. I suddenly feel very naked now.

When the second needle comes I am unable to "intellectualize" the experience any longer. I feel her body straddle my hips as she climbs on top of me and places her hand on my chest. Lost in the moment of pain, I feel myself finally slip away. In all our previous scenes I could maintain some kind of control. Use humor or communication to not let go completely and succumb to "bottom space". No such luck this time, Monk. I'm gone, screaming and weeping for
the first time.

I take that back, I have been here before, but in an entirely different
context.

I'm 14 and still attending church. We are attending a prayer meeting, an evangelist is preaching that night. No, the evangelist is testifying that night, moving the crowd with the word of hellfire and brimstone. I'm transfixed by it, drawn to it. He calls out to the crowd, telling us that god tonight has told him that there are those who he calls to the spread the word. Those touched by the hand of God. He urges us to listen to our heart of hearts and heed that call to step forward. Pulled by a force I cannot describe I step forward, into the isle and make my way to the front of the altar. Trembling with fear I kneel and being to pray. When the hand touches my shoulder I look up to see my father, weeping as he prays with me. In that moment I received "The Calling". Overcome, I let go of my fear and begin to cry as well. Awash in tears we hold each other and give into the experience. Unable to form words we cry and cry till our bodies can no longer form tears. Later, as we dried our eyes, I felt…good. No, really good. I would return to this place again and again during my tenure as a Christian. Addicted to the release and calm that it brought.

She whispers encouragement to me as she rides my erect member. I wail and scream in a mix of pain and joy. She holds my head as I try and focus my eyes on her and tell her that I now understand, that I get it. I know now why we tormented ourselves with guilt every week just so we could seek forgiveness at the altar every Sunday. I understood now why some call it "Sex Magik". I now understood where my lovers truly go when I am delivering pain to thier eager bodies.

Talk about a moment of clarity.

In that moment I felt not the hand of God, but rather the hand of my lover. She set about to pull the needles from my skin as I gasped for air, eager to share what I had just learned as well as kiss her madly. Still unable to do more than gasp simple words, I thanked her over and over. She may have set out that night to deliver a scene, a new experience for her lover but in the end she did something powerful.