Prior to going on t, I was 100% terrified of needles. If I was getting a vaccine or blood test done I’d need someone there with me, a hand to squeeze, a voice to calm my increasingly vocal anxiety.
Now, every shot is a borderline erotic experience. I look forward to every Sunday at 11:11 am, a time I chose for its holy nature, a time I dirty with my lustful addiction to testosterone. It’s to the point where I wish I could inject myself everyday. Not just for the beautiful way it affects my body, but also for the arousal I experience every time my needle breaks skin and enters my subcutaneous fat. Who wouldn’t want to experience the erotic sensation of self-love?
These days it’s grown into something much more than just the desire I feel for forcing my body into a more masculine version of itself. It’s the desire for the puncture. Into my skin, into yours, both fill me with excitement.
If I feel so handsome, so turned on by my love piercing my body, giving the thought a feeling, would you not also enjoy it? Would you look forward to me carving your skin into something more than itself? Would you experience the same arousal from being turned from mere man to a breathtaking artwork? A masterpiece so holy it’d be put up in the Vatican?
Imagine how beautiful you’d be, an angel with expansive metal wings, a Jesus-figure dripping blood from your skull, a monster with claws jutting out from your face and arms. People would praise your likeness wherever you went. Though I may be the artist you entrust with your vision, the one you so willingly give your body over to, it would be you the masses would adore for having become something so—so otherworldly!
janainaart
stormborns
blakekathryn
annaxmalina
