Sue Gets Her Clit Hood Pierced - Just Like Dr. Stone

It was impulse. On her way home, Sue Storm passed a tattoo and piercing studio. She stepped inside, curious, mind still on the conversation she'd had with Karla in the sauna. The tight pinch of those fake nipple piercings. The sight of the little gold stirrup that pierced the psychiatrist's clitoral hood. The talk of...unexpected orgasms.

Inside, Sue Storm saw clean white tile. On the left wall, a gallery of completed tattoos. On the right wall, cases with a selection of rings, studs, and other jewelry. Behind the counter, a shaven-headed Black woman whose bare scalp and arms were covered with swirling black tattoos looked up at the blonde who had just stepped into her studio. She saw Sue's gaze run over her wares. Not judging, exactly. Calculating.

At last, the heroine turned toward the artist.

"I'd like my clitoral hood pierced," Sue Storm said, her voice calm, though her heart hammered in her chest. "If you're available?"

The Black woman nodded once, and gestured Sue toward a chair.

"It will be painful. And sensitive, after. No sexual contact until it heals..."

They handled business. A credit card, a small gold stirrup that was an exact match for Karla's.

Sue felt oddly comfortable as the black curtain was drawn and she pulled down pants and panties. The chair had stirrups; some re-used gynecologist equipment. The artist examined her workspace carefully as she pulled on black surgical gloves. Her fingers ran through the golden pubes, tugging back to expose the clitoral hood.

It was perfunctory. A careful sanitation wipe. A sterilized needle. Sue Storm bit her lip as the sharpest sensation touched her most sensitive place. She had given birth, and the sheer enormity of that pain was like nothing else, but this was different. Her consciousness focused as she felt the arousal that came with the pain. The excitement that ran through her body as the little gold stirrup, held in place by a pin, gripped her clit.

"If you don't mind me saying," the artist said. "It suits you."

"Thank you," the Invisible Woman said, as she dressed. She listened carefully to the aftercare instructions, the healing times, potential complications. Yet Sue felt like she was flying, elated beyond words by her little secret. Her first step in taking control of her body.