So I finally took a deep breath and headed over to Green Man tattoo in West Hartford, CT to see Georgina, who was very highly recommended to me as a body piercing artist. I definitely looked out of place, in my very preppy madras shirt, khaki shorts, flip flops, and panama hat. After presenting my ID and signing a thankfully uncomplicated release, I went upstairs to wait for Georgina to finish with the customers she was with. I stood around watching the "Reno 911" movie with a couple of dudes getting shoulder-to-shoulder back tattoos. It was stupid but it made me laugh. I almost forgot I was about to get a piece of metal stuck through my favorite male reproductive organ.
A couple of giggling lesbians walked out of the little piercing room, followed by Georgina herself. She asked me what I wanted, we picked out jewelry (a 10-gauge captive bead ring for now; after it heals, I want a stud), then I watched some more Reno 911 while she got her area ready. Lt. Dangle wears hot pants. Ha, ha!
As soon as I entered Georgina's workspace, it was time to drop trou. She took a coarse paper towel, ripped a hole in the middle, and draped my organ with it like a dick doily. She showed me all the parts she'd be using: needle, receiving tube, taper, and the jewelry; then she dipped some Q tips in antiseptic cream and rubbed them all over her hardware and my software (including a brief trip up my pee hole, which made me squirm).
"Breathe in," she said, and I looked straight ahead and inhaled slowly and deeply. I felt the receiving tube enter my urethra (it goes in about half an inch); an extremely icky feeling which was probably the most uncomfortable sensation of the experience.
"Breathe out." I exhaled. I felt a sharp, very brief sting, then some fiddling around, then a slightly more painful sensation as she put the ring in. Then it was over, I was the proud owner of a prince albert ring. There was no pain, just some slight discomfort feeling it rub around as I walked. We talked about aftercare and the healing period, we shook hands, I thanked her and paid, and I walked out, slightly bowlegged, into the sunlight. Yeah, I'm a badass.
Pictures:
1.) My undies, yum.
2.) Soaking it with saline solution. I've worn a cup before, but this is ridiculous.
3.) Tada!
4.) Extreme close-up.
A couple of giggling lesbians walked out of the little piercing room, followed by Georgina herself. She asked me what I wanted, we picked out jewelry (a 10-gauge captive bead ring for now; after it heals, I want a stud), then I watched some more Reno 911 while she got her area ready. Lt. Dangle wears hot pants. Ha, ha!
As soon as I entered Georgina's workspace, it was time to drop trou. She took a coarse paper towel, ripped a hole in the middle, and draped my organ with it like a dick doily. She showed me all the parts she'd be using: needle, receiving tube, taper, and the jewelry; then she dipped some Q tips in antiseptic cream and rubbed them all over her hardware and my software (including a brief trip up my pee hole, which made me squirm).
"Breathe in," she said, and I looked straight ahead and inhaled slowly and deeply. I felt the receiving tube enter my urethra (it goes in about half an inch); an extremely icky feeling which was probably the most uncomfortable sensation of the experience.
"Breathe out." I exhaled. I felt a sharp, very brief sting, then some fiddling around, then a slightly more painful sensation as she put the ring in. Then it was over, I was the proud owner of a prince albert ring. There was no pain, just some slight discomfort feeling it rub around as I walked. We talked about aftercare and the healing period, we shook hands, I thanked her and paid, and I walked out, slightly bowlegged, into the sunlight. Yeah, I'm a badass.
Pictures:
1.) My undies, yum.
2.) Soaking it with saline solution. I've worn a cup before, but this is ridiculous.
3.) Tada!
4.) Extreme close-up.