Bloodrunning
I drew blood last night: teeth-bared and grinning fiercely, leaning close in, craving the shove of needle entering flesh like I haven't in a very, very long time. I have pierced friends, as favours, and I have made beautiful designs in people's skin, but it's been a long (long) time since the smell of alcohol wipes, the beading of blood, the long rivers of sweat tracing down a naked torso (beautiful endurance sweat, belying what it takes to sit here in this chair and let these lovely ladies do these awful things to you) left me flustered, mouth-watering, snarling, hot, lustful and bloodlusting.
It's piercing as sex, penetrating this beautiful shell, the surge of pride in this sweet thing who grunts and groans with it but sits still, and takes it.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Breathe all the way in- and- OUT., and Oh FUCK and then Oh... that's goood
Afterward we played a game of scalpel-traced tic-tac-toe on a lovely toned shoulder, completed with a slash right through the middle. I was playing 'crosses' and my downward strokes split skin, gaped it open. I made a fist of one black gloved hand and left it, knuckles down, on a spine- to dare her to remain steady as I cut. My co-conspirator (in white gloves and lustful grin) traced perfect circles, won the game, got to do the victory slash. Our victim bled, and was well pleased.
I am rediscovering old pleasures, these past few days, or rediscovering the pleasure in things I have been merely going through the motions of. Blood is not the only medium I have re-found my appreciation for, but oh, it made for a lovely little evening among friends.



