#danhaji

Content warning: Unsafe piercing practices, bloodplay

The sounds of rattling metal reverberate off of the concrete walls. Looking outside the skylight, a lightly cloudy, early spring sky is visible.

Unlike the gentle sunlight coming from outside, the situation I’ve found myself in is much less serene.

“Um, Sensei?”

“Mmm?”

I’m naked and lying down, both my wrists and feet having been firmly bound to the bed by long leather restraints. Feeling like a frog on a dissection table, I turn my only free limb, my neck, to face Ōta-sensei.

As he hums while preparing his things, a long, pointy needle glints dimly in his hand.

“Do we really have to go this far for a piercing?”

“Yep, since you’ll definitely be out of control when the pain hits.”

“…so it’s that painful.”

Noticing the slight weakness in my voice, Sensei smiles joyously from the bottom of his heart.

“I mean, this big fat needle is gonna go through your dick, you know? It really does feel like you’re gonna die.”

“And just how much of a masochist do you have to be to get five genital piercings?” I say in disgust to provoke him, but Sensei pays it no mind. He’s busy purposefully lining up various tools on the bedside table from where I can see them.

Insertion pins, forceps, pliers, disinfecting alcohol, antibiotic cream. Looking at these items, fear grows in my heart. I slightly resent the fact that I’ve researched what the process was like on the internet in preparation.

Not wanting him to sense my sudden fear, I cheerfully ask a question.

“So, you’ve pierced yourself?”

“Of course not. Got them done at a proper piercing studio.”

“Isn’t this gonna be disastrous…”

Looking at me swallow unconsciously, Sensei laughs loudly and wholeheartedly.

The dydoe piercing that Sensei said would suit me is a piercing that goes through the glans of the penis.

I was the one who asked for a piercing after graduating high school. Sensei complied and took me to his home after the graduation ceremony, and here we are.

Saying that I’m not scared would be a lie, but my want is stronger. An intense pain and an unfading scar. Things that can be mine forever.

If Sensei can give them to me, what reason do I have to refuse?

“And there we go.”

Finished with his preparations, the needle in his hand is exchanged for a marker. Sensei sits on the bed, then languidly takes my flaccid penis in his hand as he examines it intently.

“Maybe around here…” he says as he marks down two spots on my glans with the marker. Probably where the piercing would go through.

“Have you ever pierced someone else before?” I ask, uneasy at his practiced movements. Sensei lightly shook his head.

“I’m the one who wants to get pierced, so I never really thought about doing it for anyone else. I prefer being on the receiving end when it comes to needles, anyway,” he replies absurdly while toying around with my soft dick. Just being lightly played around in his dry palm was enough to get it going, and he affectionately gave it a few kisses while looking up at me teasingly.

“So, that makes you the first person I’ve ever thought about piercing.”

“…!”

My dick responds with vigor at his mere words. Pleased at my reaction, Sensei begins licking my shaft. I moan involuntarily at the sensation of his hot, wet tongue wrapping around me.

“You’re this happy at me saying you’re the first? You really do love me, don’t you…”

Sensei smiles fondly at me, who got hard from so little stimulation.

Of course I do. I want him to do anything and everything to me, and vice versa. He can say that it’s gross all he wants, but my feelings are real.

“Still, are you really okay with this? You can’t undo a piercing in this place, you know?”

“There’s nothing I want to undo. More than that, I want a wound from you, Sensei.”

I never wanted an out in the first place. What I want is something definite, something I can never go back from no matter what.

If future me goes back on these feelings and ends up regretting this piercing, then he can suffer on his own. If he’s not carrying these precious feelings with him, then what is he even living for?

I won’t forget. I won’t throw it away. I want Sensei. I only want Sensei.

I will know if I ever change my mind on this.

I thought that I would never recover from that accident. That there will come a day where I could love, believe in, and be so devoted to something was unthinkable. But look at me now, head over heels in love. In a way, the current me went back on the feelings of the past me.

Sensei asked me if it was really okay, and I know it’s not such a simple matter.

But I have decided to choose him. I wish for my happiness. Atop the corpse of the woman who gave birth to me, I beg to be loved and plead to let me love him.

“Please do it.” The small, hoarse voice coming out of my mouth feels disgusting.

I’ll never be your parent, Sensei said to me once (1). Don’t depend on me, he probably meant. Don’t get too comfortable with me, his eyes said.

But I had given my everything to him, freely. It would be great if he can accept it, but it would be fine if he chose to throw it away.

I thought like that, but Ōta-sensei has been far kinder than I thought. He might be cursing me along the way, but he has yet to cast me aside. I wonder why. Do I seem that pitiful to him?

Then that’s great. Anything’s fine, even if it’s pathetic. I’ll take advantage of his emotions, his needs, whatever I need to. I’m willing to do it as long as it allows me to live by his side.

I’ve asked him once, about why he chose to get piercings and a tattoo. After I asked, Sensei had an inscrutable look on his face.

“Because the me with piercings is more right than the one without,” he answered.

“Have you ever felt like you were born in the wrong body?”

“Like gender dysphoria?”

“Yeah. Or maybe body integrity dysphoria (2).”

“What’s that?”

“People who think their hands, feet or other limbs are excessive, so they want to cut it off. Something like that.”

After Sensei said that, he clicked his tongue.

“Well, you probably don’t get it.”

He’s right; I don’t understand. That’s why I want to put more thought into it.

Maybe the person who didn’t want their arm and cut it off couldn’t stand that the arm was theirs. No matter how convenient or useful it is, the arm still didn’t fit their body, they probably thought. Maybe, to them, the worth of their right arm and themselves don’t match.

An imperfect body for an imperfect heart. Now that’s a feeling I recognize. But for me, it was closer to sin and punishment. It’s probably different from the feeling of “excess” that he described.

Then, what about Sensei? Getting so many piercings on his penis, and a tattoo that stretches from anus to thigh; what did he think was “right” about them?

I want to understand, one day.

Perhaps, Sensei is no ordinary person. The normal and abnormal parts of him mesh together into a complex mosaic of a soul. Huge chunks are broken off in places, as if they’ve been pried out.

Just how did he become this kind of person?

Sensei almost never talks about his past. I know that he has an older and younger sister. That he realized he liked creating things from a very young age. That he got his first piercing at 13 years old. That he’s had sex with women before. That he likes other people’s penises, but doesn’t like his own so much.

Beyond that, I don’t know anything about him.

But I want to. I want to know more, even more. And to do that, I’ll have to catch up to him, even if only a little bit faster.

“Hurry. Pierce my dick with your hands.”

Sensei did not reply. He silently examines my expression. I quietly accept his gaze and stare back.

Then, he leans in and kisses me.

His tongue parts my teeth and enters my mouth. It tangles with my own tongue, gives it a strong suck, then pulls back and begins tracing the inside of my jaw. Moving freely as if it was its own creature, it licks at my gums and tickles the soft part inside my cheeks. I swallow my spit, feeling like I was on the edge of cumming.

Sensei changes his angle, and his long fingers wrap around my dick once more as he kisses me over and over. The way his fingers trace my glans as he feels around for the spot feels nice.

At the edge of my vision, the needle glimmers in his hand.

Wanting to fully savor the pain he will give me, I close my eyes in anticipation.

But then…

“This should be good enough for you right now.”

With that whispered laugh, a small sound rings through my ear.

“Ouch—!?”

The needle didn’t go through my penis. It went through my earlobe; a completely normal ear piercing. I can feel a slight pain there.

“This isn’t what you promised…”

“Shut up,” he chides me as he gouges the needle around. My ears grew hot after a small unpleasant pop.

“Ah, nicked a vein,” he comments before pulling out the needle. Sensei holds up the needle to show me the small amount of blood on its tip before bringing it up to his mouth to lick it. He smiles at my dumbfounded look.

“Don’t get so euphoric all by yourself, Rokko.”

“I wasn’t…”

“Absolutely were. You were sounding so needy just now.”

He sets the needle aside and reaches out to the newly-made piercing. I grimace reflexively as he rubs around the wound to squeeze out more blood. After enjoying himself on the feel of it, he brings it up to my lips and smears it around. The smell and taste of blood should have been unpleasant, but it brings about a disquieting arousal instead.

“It really suits you…”

Sensei gave a featherlight kiss to my blood-covered lips. That single kiss gently sucked away any doubts and complaints I had. Just as I got completely absorbed in that sensation, he pulls away with a long, warm exhale.

“Your blood is sweet.”

The image of my red liquid smearing onto Sensei is terribly perverted. I want to push myself inside those thin, blood-smeared lips that looked like a fresh wound.

“Hey, try taking me inside, with those lips…” I ask, voice shrill from excitement. I want him to take me into his hot, lewd mouth. A depraved deepthroat, taking me deep into his throat until he couldn’t anymore.

But Sensei ignores my plea, and instead gathers some more blood from my earlobe. He slowly straightens up and lets the blood fall from his fingers to my operation scar.

His bloody fingers glide on top of the scar, making it look like he’s cutting it open. The stimulation gives rise to a squeezing pain. My body stiffens unconsciously, and at that, he casually throws out a question.

“Hurts?”

It was such a simple question that I end up reflexively nodding in agreement.

“A little…”

“Well, you do look like you’re in pain sometimes.”

I lift my face in surprise and was met with Sensei’s intent gaze.

My internal organs were a mess after the accident, but in the end, the only thing they had to remove was a small part of my liver. Not much happened after they stitched me back up, and there were mostly no lasting effects.

But sometimes, the scar would ache when it gets cold. I hid the fact because it felt like I was getting dragged down by my past, but this sharp, sensitive person must have realized it a long time ago.

“What’s this, all of a sudden…”

“Even if I pierced your dick, it wouldn’t replace this wound, you know?”

“……”

…Why is it that he is always voicing the things I don’t want to face the most?

To avoid his gaze, I look down upon my body. The smeared blood made the scar look like it was gaping open. For the past three years, this scar had tied me down…

…as well as supported me.

It’s just as he said. I wanted to overwrite this scar with a new pain that could bind me and Sensei together with certainty. I felt that it could have helped me live on. That it could have saved me, even if just a little.

Realizing just how immature my thoughts were, I’m struck with a sudden embarrassment about various things.

I try to turn away to hide my reddening cheeks, but it was easy for him to grab my chin from where he’s straddling my body, so I failed at that. Unable to be honest in front of Sensei’s smug, know-it-all attitude, I ended up glaring at him.

“Even though I was prepared for you to pierce my dick… you’re so cruel, Sensei.”

“I mean, you were acting so spoiled for wanting me to wound you like that. Really pisses me off.”

“Isn’t it fine to spoil me a little? I’m gonna pierce your nipples afterward anyway.”

“Absolutely not. Don’t try making this into an exchange, dumbass.” He pinches my nose and twists it as hard as he could. After I started whining, he turned my chin as if to say How was it? Given up yet?

“Rokko, you’re rushing headlong into the weirdest things. No matter how much you worry, or get carried away and lose your footing, I won’t think of you as pitiful. So stop rushing. It’s tiring to watch.”

“…was I really?”

“There’s been this weird look on your face since the beginning of the year, y’know. Thought it was just stress so I left it alone, but it’s about time you get a grip already.”

As he grumbles on, the tension in my shoulders leave. Now that we’ve gotten to this point, I have no choice but to admit my failure. He saw through my enthusiastic front and sidestepped it entirely.

“So embarrassing…” I sigh without thinking.

“But that’s not the case, though?” he laughs. “Seeing how worked up you got was crazy entertaining, you know.”

“You’re welcome.”

In the end, if he smiles so gently like this, I have no choice but to fly my white flag and give up.

I thought I was on the right track with my relentless approach, but it seems that I was mistaken. I thought that I could catch up to him if I tried hard enough, but Sensei is far more mature, relaxed, and cooler than I give him credit for.

This is the person I’ve fallen in love with.

Even though I’m now chewing on my own inferiority, frustration and bitterness, I feel terribly fulfilled.

“In the end, I really do love you, Ōta-sensei.”

“I know that,” he says, grinning meaningfully as he lights up a cigarette. My eyes follow the trail of smoke he exhales so deliciously.

At some point, the sky outside the skylight had darkened, signaling the end of the day.

After leaving me to look at that sight with a refreshing sense of defeat, Sensei finally stood up.

“What are you doing?”

Since I’m not getting pierced, it would be nice to get out of these restraints. As I thought that and crane my neck around, Sensei came back with an armful of various tools.

“Well, I was thinking about giving my cute Rokko-kun a present.”

“What is it? A blowjob?”

“You’re still on about that, huh,” he says wryly as he quickly cleans up the piercing implements. In their place, paints are lined up.

“I’m gonna paint on your wound.”

It was a fantastical moment.

Using my body as his canvas, Sensei throws various colors onto it. The sensation of the brush gliding along my body gives rise to arousal, but it didn’t feel like the right atmosphere to bring it up.

Sensei’s focused profile is dignified and a little distant. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from this serious expression I had never seen before.

This distance feels nostalgic. In my high school years, I kept looking at him like this, day after day. The difference from that time is that I can now touch him. That he’s showing me this face.

“Ōta-sensei, I really love you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

And that when I voice my emotions like this, he properly responds to me.

Like stacking cellophane on top of one another, my past and present overlap and completely change the scenery I’m looking at.

Painting on colors without hesitation, my body is adorned in the blink of an eye. A short time later, Sensei exclaimed Done! and put away his paintbrush.

The finished painting is that of flowers(3). Grotesque crimson flowers that looked like it was made out of viscera. Vines twist and twine around the scar, as if drawing nourishment from my body to bloom its large flowers. The fleshy, nightmarish petals and twisted stamen are most certainly not beautiful, but I had a feeling that it suited me well.

“Rokko Ayahito.”

“Yes?”

“The title of this painting: How I see the current you.”

Those words took my breath away. So this is how I look to him? And that’s the expression he makes as he paints me?

—I’m overjoyed.

I had thought that this scar wasn’t something that should be adorned and displayed like this. The me from just a little bit ago would have been disoriented and filled with guilt instead of happiness. But the current me feels nothing but sincere happiness. I love the flowers Sensei gave me.

“Thank you very much.”

He didn’t make fun of the words that came out of my mouth. “Congratulations on your graduation, Rokko,” he announces instead, a faint smile on his face.

Ah, really. He’s so…

“Please release my arms. I want to hold you.” The restraints are now frustrating; I need to hold him now. But Sensei lightly shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Eh?”

“It’ll mess up the painting if we do it now. Hold it until I take a photo, will you?”

“That’s…!”

Ignoring my cries of frustration, Sensei takes out a professional one-lens digital camera, the kind people use for official documentation. He sets it up and clicks the shutter.

“That super erect dick looks great. Don’t get soft on me, I’m gonna take the photo like this.”

He doesn’t have to tell me; like that’ll ever happen. If anything, the tip is leaking precum on its own from how much it wants to be inside him already.

There’s also the relentless, composed gaze of Sensei from the other side of the camera. I know he’s just taking a photo, but a perverted pleasure is arising from just being looked on like this.

“Sensei…”

In this situation, I have no choice but to get him in the mood as quickly as I can. I move my hips to showcase my erect penis, made even hotter by my pent-up emotions.

“Haha, so lewd. Hey, how about twisting your body a bit more? Show off your abs a little.”

“Like this?”

I contort my body around to show off my abs and start moving my hips like I do when we have sex. After simulating how I move when I hit his good spots inside over and over again, he finally takes his eyes off of the camera lens.

“Not bad for a seduction attempt.”

Leaving behind the camera, he straddles me. Sensei makes a show of sticking out his tongue and letting his saliva drip from there to the tip of my dick. Feeling like I’m about to cum from that little bit of stimulation, I grit my teeth and endure. His tongue, wet with plenty of spit, licks around my glans. Unable to take the way it circles around my sensitive tip, I rock my hips in search of more stimulation.

“Please unbind me, Sensei… hurry, I wanna put it in…”

“Mm…”

He agreed to my request a lot easier than expected. I thought I’d have to prod him more, but perhaps Sensei is also at his limit.

The moment he frees all four of my limbs, I tackle Sensei down onto the bed. Swiftly stripping his lower half, I then grab and spread his legs wide open so I can bring my face closer to what lies between.

Framed by the tattoo is the hole I have been toying with nearly every day. Its edges are swollen, but it’s still tightly shut. Beyond that plump opening are the hot, wet folds I need to get to quickly. To facilitate that, I forcibly ram my tongue in there.

“Hi—!”

Sensei’s voice grows taut at the sudden stimulation to his still-tight hole. In contrast to his shriek, his hole twitches with joy around my tongue.

But it’s still too tight. My tongue’s not reaching deep enough.

“Please hold your legs on your own,” I say as I take his ass in my hands and firmly part his asshole with both of my thumbs. The sliver of his inner walls visible through the forcibly spread hole is a beautiful pink color. It looks delicious, so I lick and reach as deep as I could with my tongue.

“Ngh— ah, ah, ah…”

His voice melts as I knead open his hole and piston my tongue into it.

“Getting turned on… from getting licked here, Sensei, really is, a pervert.”

“Says… the one licking, so fervently… ah—!”

Our provocations have no bite. Maybe because we’ve both lost our composure, at this point.

I send spit inside him again and again, until that hot tightness becomes wet.

To be honest, I would rather use proper lube, but I don’t have it in myself to wait any longer.

“It’s fine if it hurts, right? Right? I wanna do it.”

“Yeah… ‘s fine, so hurry and put it in… ah…!”

I gather his knees in my arms and ram my overly-stimulated dick inside him. His walls squeeze me strongly from base to tip from a combination of stimulation and pain. My cum gushes inside him.

“Feels… so, good…”

I had no plans to hold off from the very start; I wanted to cum inside Sensei, anyway. And yet, my somehow still-hard dick is still throbbing violently inside him.

“Fuck… cumming all by yourself…”

“Do you want to cum too, Sensei…?

I forcibly bring his knees to his chest, push down on his ass-in-the-air unstable position, and fuck into him like an insatiable dog. Loud and wet squelches ring out as I grind into his inner walls, and eventually, Sensei’s dick grows hard. But finding it not enough, Sensei clings to me.

“Can’t, breathe… ah— don’t just, fuck me, touch, me there too—”

“Where?”

“Fuck… my dick, dumbass!”

“But I’m touching it? Look, it’s rubbing on my stomach. And it’s wet! There’s a sting of precum…”

“That’s— ha— not enough…!”

“Then, how about your piercings? Do you want to cum from the pain?”

Finding his annoyed pleas adorable, I slow down my thrusting and start roughly grabbing at the piercings on his balls. Putting all my strength into it, I crush his balls as I grind against the hafada piercings with my thumb.

“U, gh—!”

Trying to endure the pain, his body contorts itself into a shrimp-like ball. But judging by the way his balls strain in my hand, pain isn’t the only thing he’s feeling.

“Pervert.”

“Hya—!”

This time, I pull on his pubic barbell piercing. Sensei’s entire body leaps up like a spring, and my dick feels like it’s being torn off by the way he clamps down on me. Unable to bear it, I readjust my grip on his feet and thrust into the flesh that has melted like butter. Sweet noises spill out from his thin, trembling body.

“Ah— So tight, and hot, inside you, Sensei… the best…”

Feeling like I’m going insane from how sexy he is, I keep persistently hitting his most sensitive spots.

“Ah! A, ah, ngh— Rokko, too, much, ah…!”

Sensei claws at my body with both his hands at our unrefined, technique-less sex. His toes, curled up from pain and pleasure, smears the blood on my chest. Even with that pain, I forcibly bite down on his left shoulder. The taste of blood gradually fills my mouth as the tip of my teeth breaks skin.

“Aa— ngah! Hyaaaaa—!”

At that moment, Sensei bends over backwards as he came.

“Ha, haha… You came from the bite…”

“Mmm…”

Sensei lightly shakes his head in annoyance as I lick at the bitemark I left. His reddened eyes dazedly look at me. Covered in cum and spit, his face is gruesome and obscene.

“You really love pain, huh…”

Sensei laughs weakly as I give his nipple a squeeze. The back of my head melts away like the pleasure inside is being laid bare.

“That was great…”

“The biting?”

“Everything.”

The slight slur in his speech is proof enough that he truly did enjoy it. Finding it incredibly cute, I reach out and lick the semen that landed on his cheeks.

“You sure are honest today.”

“’Cause I got a good painting done.”

“So painting gets you horny?”

“Maybe? Who knows…”

Dodging the question, Sensei cradles my head in his hands and gently pulls me in for a kiss.

“Tastes like blood and cum,” he whispers, eyes gleaming.

“The flavors you like most, right?”

“I guess.”

We quietly giggle and whisper together, as if sharing secrets. He continues tracing his mouth from my cheek to my right ear.

“Your neck’s all red. Pretty impressive, honestly.”

Speaking of which, the pierced ear remained like that throughout sex. The bleeding has stopped now, but the blood has stained all the way to the nape of my neck. Sensei begins lapping up the traces of blood with the tip of his tongue. My dick, still inside him, grows harder from the sensation of his tongue on my body.

“How about we go look at jewelry for this piercing after we’re done?”

“Sure, but… are we gonna be done?” he asks, a coy smile on his face.

Seeing the unmistakable desire in each other’s eyes, we share a smile.

“Maybe not.”

(1) See Like a HONEYMOON

(2) Other names: Body Identity Integrity Disorder (BIID), xenomelia. Body integrity dysphoria was chosen since it’s the official name in the latest ICD (International Classification of Diseases, published by WHO)