She had spent months preparing for this Tattoo Expo. Usually, she did things like suspension weekly or monthly, depending on the pay. But it had been a few months and she had to get her body back into it. Not that it had been hard, it was like riding a bike…that lifted you by hooks pierced into your skin. But same idea. Her piercer had been glad to have her back, their working relationship spanned many years.

For this suspension, she wore a bathing suit top with a cute skirt to match. Her midriff needed to be exposed, and with how tone hers was, she was not bashful at all. But before that could begin, the expo had requested her to do some contortions for the crowd, and she did. It wasn’t a long demonstration, just enough to hint at what she could do.

Laying face up on the table, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. The sounds of the crowd had been pushed away, her focus squarely on what was going on, the hooks. They had been placed quickly and efficiently. A measured piece of skin pulled away from the body and the eight-gauge hook pushed through the skin until there was a pop. One only she could hear. With it sliding cleanly through to the other side of the flesh, there is no blood, she had been pierced their numerous times and the Shaman lays in a peaceful state. Eyes closed as she breathes in and out, no flinch from the hooks that are placed. A resurrection. Six hooks. Two on her upper chest, and two down each side of her stomach.

What had once started as an act in her performance to make her audience uncomfortable, had become a relaxation tool for her. This was not spiritual for her; this was her therapy. It allowed her dissociate from her body and mind, to turn off the nagging bullshit that flooded her thoughts. This was her peace, and she wasn’t ashamed of it.
There was more attending this session then just her usual piercer. This session required a unique rig to lift her, and someone else to keep an eye on this. The skin on her chest was thinner than on her back, so the risk of a hook tearing was higher. With assistance, she lowers her feet to floor from the table, her breathing calm as the hooks were attached to the rig, her eyes not watching, but focused elsewhere. She was going into her head, into that space that she reserved for these nights. Then a nod to him, she was ready.

Slowly, and carefully, she could feel her body begin to lift. The sensation from the new piercings was a mixture of fire and tension. Which dissipated after a few minutes, as it always did. Her breathing slow and even, her arms held out to her sides. Slowly she rose to about fifteen feet in the air, this wasn’t a suspension that allowed you to feel like you were flying. The risk was great, so extra care was taken. But soon her body arched hands falling beside her as her feet freely hung in the air. She was only being held by the six hooks, and the Shaman looked as peaceful as ever, like she could hang there all day.

And with that freedom and relaxation came peace, her mind slowing, reminding her of what was truly important. Something she had lost touch with over the years, and she remembered.

And she smiled, a blissful smile.

I almost included a picture of what the suspension looks like, but didn't want to upset anyone...lol! It is a real and legit pose, and I have personally done a suic*@$# suspension, so the feelings and emotions are as they apply to me, personally.