Voici, Élodie - the Human Xmas Tree

Vitavie's Vignette No. 05: Voici, Élodie - the human Xmas tree

by

Vitavie

I thought I'd give you a fun and happy story after Filling the Void and A Ritual and Musical Divertisement. Okay, Denial wasn't sad and unhappy, but a-walk-in-the-park it was not. The story below is simply full of the joys.

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Author's Note

Dear reader,

Everyone loves a true story! Truth often beats fiction. I found the kernel of this gem online, well... twenty years ago. Twenty years ago, in the early days of the web, when I wrote my first efforts. The piercing journey of Élodie, a young French woman. With her blessing, I edited, expanded and adorned it.

What stood out was her level-headed, warm, and humorous tone. Unlike many piercing stories focused on struggle or renewal, Élodie's account captures the joy and fun of body modification, not as a burden but as a celebration.

I am not a piercing enthusiast myself, beyond my ears. The ears involved two intense but brief pangs of pain, but that is not the reason that holds me back. To push big holes into my sensitive intimate areas, my sex or even my nipples? I am not so sure! But if I'd ever need a reason, Élodie's account is the best advertisement I have seen. So, who knows?

And, in spite of my personal leanings, her story is strangely stimulating too!

Here it goes. Élodie speaks...:

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My Image, after...

I stand before the mirror. I am well adorned. I am complete.

It is Christmas.

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My Ears

For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated by jewellery--especially metal pieces worn around body parts. And, when piercing became mainstream, metal pieces worn through the body. Earrings were common, of course. In my country, every woman has her ears pierced. My mother has dozen of earrings. But then I saw a woman in a magazine with a nose ring. Wow! I didn't want to go that far (not yet), but it had me argue passionately before my parents to finally let me get my ears pierced at the tender age of nine. They let me! Nous sommes des Français, you know...

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My Tongue

As I grew older, during my teenage years, my fascination with metal only deepened. Bit by bit, I adorned myself with more jewellery--countless bracelets around my wrists and ankles, layers of necklaces... Even my dental braces didn't feel like a burden. On the contrary, they gave me a unique sense of satisfaction. I am the only person in the world I know who has ever said this!

So, on the very day my braces were removed--when I was 19 and studying far away from home--I got my first non-earlobe piercing: a tongue piercing. One special feeling was simply replaced by another.

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I Make a Plan

After getting my tongue pierced, I decided to restrain myself for a bit, before getting any more. Yes, I knew I wanted multiple rings through my body, but I also wanted to maintain a sense of harmony. It's more appealing, I think, to have jewellery in places where it enhances the body's beauty, rather than punching holes here, there and everywhere, as some do. My personal opinion!

So I made a plan. I took a set of photographs of myself in my bikini - I didn't dare naked pictures - and experimented by sketching designs with rings and chains, making adjustments until I arrived at a look that felt just right.

Initially, I thought I'd complete my ideal look in under a year. But piercings--and especially because I wanted gold jewellery--aren't cheap. On top of that, I was living in France, near Le Havre, which at the time didn't even have a piercing studio. (It does now, obviously.) So, I was not able to stick to my ideal timeline. Instead, I made progress during a few short holidays--to London, Hamburg, and Amsterdam. Each time I returned home, I brought back a few more holes!

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My Nipples

After my tongue, my nipples were next! Both of them. I had them done in London for my 20th birthday. I chose two 12-karat gold captive bead rings.

Sacre blue! Piercing my first nipple hurt so much! It took me some serious talking to myself before I mustered up the courage to have the second one done.

That same day - no expense spared - I also replaced my stainless steel tongue barbell with a 14-karat gold one. No pain involved! Merci bien!

My wallet was empty, but the feeling was incredible. If I ever truly managed, it took a long time to speak properly with the new barbell--but both my boyfriend and I absolutely loved it. My parents not so much. (I didn't tell them about the nipple piercings.)

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The first chain

I was impatient for my nipples to heal because I already had the next step in mind--and the jewellery ready. The healing took about four weeks. As soon as I felt comfortable, I went into the room of a close friend I shared a flat with at university. I said, 'I need your help.' She knew about the nipple piercings, but was a little surprised by what I asked her to do.

I had bought two gold-plated necklaces in London, each about 40-50 cm long. From one, I had removed the clasps at both ends and replaced them with little rings I salvaged from a broken pair of gold earrings. I had also added a third one at the centre of the chain that could slide freely along it.

My friend agreed to help. Why not? She was as curious as I was. I took off my T-shirt and bra. My friend didn't mind. Practical like the nurse she was training to be, she opened the captive bead ring at my first nipple - careful! - slid one end of the chain into it, and closed it again. Then she did the same with the other side. Less than three minutes after entering her room, the gold chain was hanging securely between my nipples. Don't pull at it! On second thought, please do!

I put my T-shirt back on, returned to my room with my bra in my hand, and spent a long time in front of the mirror. I looked just as beautiful as I had imagined. Then I tried on my bra.

No! Wearing a bra wasn't right. As I had suspected, the chain didn't sit well under it--it bunched or twisted and looked awkward.

But I was prepared. You know, here, the third sliding ring along the nipple chain enters the equation. I took the second, unmodified necklace, threaded it through the central ring, and fastened it behind my neck. Perfect. Not only did it solve the bra issue, sort of, it added something new and striking to the look. Shaking my boobs, I was thrilled by the way the chain pulled at my nipples. I was equally thrilled by look! I had never seen anyone wear something quite like it. (Only last month did I finally find a photo online of a woman with a similar design. Oui! Je ne suis pas seule!)

I'm 23 now, and I've never once removed the nipple chain. The necklace portion only comes off for special ceremonies, at uni for example, at formal events or for visits to my parents, when I need to look conventional. Otherwise, I wear it proudly, even with a low-cut top. People often stare curiously, and ask what kind of pendant I'm wearing. I usually smile without answering. But to close friends, I sometimes reply with a playful smile: 'My nipples.' 'Oh, la la!'

One of them didn't believe me--or was just too curious. He tugged gently on the chain and revealed what was on the other end: another chain and two nipples! I've never seen someone look so embarrassed in my life. But we stayed friends.

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The Triangle

The next piercing on my list was either a triangle or, a little higher, a horizontal clitoral hood piercing. I had only seen these types of piercings in pictures--mainly when I was visiting London--so, when I stepped into a piercing studio in Hamburg, I hadn't come to a decision.

I wasn't alone. I had a friend of mine with me, who already had her tongue pierced like me, She got her navel done. Was this the right choice, she wondered when she put her jeans back on. She hadn't realised the waistband would be interfering. Her healing process was a bit of a challenge. Definitely not the kind of piercing I wanted!

When it was my turn, the piercer--a man--took a few minutes to explain the difference between a triangle and a horizontal hood piercing. After examining me, he said I would be a good candidate for a triangle. That was enough for me. 'Alright then, I'll have one, s'il vous plaît!'

I picked out a new gold captive bead ring, identical in gauge and diameter to the ones I wore in my nipples--2.5 cm. the piercing man advised against it, explaining that the diameter was too large to fit comfortably between the labia and would likely cause some discomfort. But I was set. I knew exactly what I wanted. My overall "decoration plan" prioritised aesthetics, and I was willing to tolerate a degree of discomfort for the look I had in mind.

After a few minutes of back-and-forth, he agreed to proceed. And I got exactly the ring I wanted.

What a Rush!

Of course, there was some discomfort for a bit, while the piercing healed. A few days only, however. Once things had settled, the slight discomfort I had expected turned out to be the most exhilarating sensation I'd ever felt while walking through the streets. As someone on an internet forum once put it: 'Jeans became my best friend.' That couldn't have been more true. (Foe for my friend with the navel, friend for me and my triangle!) The pressure, the movement, the constant awareness--it was unexpectedly euphoric.

That first night in Hamburg, however, was rough. I was intensely aroused, yet afraid to touch myself for fear of causing an infection. To make things trickier, my girlfriend and I were sharing a room. We both sensed the tension--an electric, sleepless kind of night.

By morning, we were still restless and more than a little curious. We admired each other's piercings. Alas, the triangle piercing was out of bounds. But it slowly dawned on us that neither of us had ever experienced what it felt like to kiss someone with a tongue barbell while the other wore a CBR. That moment turned into our first bisexual experience--but that's another story entirely.

After we came home, as the days passed and the piercing began to heal, my body gradually returned to a less heightened state. But the piercer in Hamburg had been right: the ring never really leaves my consciousness. It is in constant contact with my clitoris--which is, you know, the whole point of a triangle piercing. I can also feel how it gently pulls my labia apart. It's a subtle, persistent presence.

During intercourse, I have to be a bit careful--it dangles slightly, so the positioning of a cock is somewhat tricky. But that's a minor disadvantage. Because it is, without question, the most stimulating and beautiful piece of jewellery I've ever worn.

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Below the Neck

At that point, what remained of my original plan was four inner labia rings (two times two). With those, what I had considered my "below-the-neck" decoration to be complete. But then I fell in love again--with a boy who, of course, shared my passion for gold chains and body jewellery. He admired the necklace-to-nipple chain, loved the triangle ring, and had an idea. Why not connect the triangle piercing to a waist chain before adding anything new?

Pourquoi pas?

We bought a long, gold-plated waist chain--so long that when I clasped it around my waist, a length of about 35 centimetres spilled down from my navel toward my vulva like a golden thread. My boyfriend attached a small ring at the connection point. From there, the chain goes southward and is clipped to my triangle ring. When worn under a skirt without knickers, the excess length provides further stimulation.

The chain is thin and light enough to be worn discreetly under any clothing. From time to time, I take it from my waist and let it hang freely from the triangle ring, to just above the ground--the sensation of it swinging gently between my legs is surprisingly delightful. Any drawbacks? Like my nipple chain, the second one can be visible through a swimsuit. My parents still wonder why I've mysteriously stopped joining them for a swim since my 20th birthday... I must come out, right?

When I wear a short top that reveals my midriff, the waist chain is fully on display. Anyone who sees it may also glimpse the chain that vanishes down, to beneath my waistband. I often wonder what they imagine is at the end of it. Hopefully, no one ever gets bold enough to tug on this one to find out... because the pendant is my cunt!

Note that all the small rings that connect the chains can be opened and closed with jewellery clamps. They're thin, unsoldered, and would likely quickly release in an emergency. I haven't needed to test that theory--and, honestly, I hope I never have to.

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Five Outer Labia Piercings and a Padlock

Back to my plan.

A few days after my 21st birthday, we took a holiday in the Pays-Bas. I didn't want to miss the chance to make progress on my body art journey. My original idea was to have my inner labia pierced in Amsterdam. But, of course, I also wanted to please my boyfriend.

His idea was another. Outer labia piercings.

I was afraid his choice would be more painful and would demand more attention during healing--but I was curious, too. (With hindsight, my labia minora are more sensitive, but thinner, so it would have been a toss-up which was best and which worst. We'll never know, now, do we?)

He sketched out what he had in mind: not four, but five captive bead rings--two in the left labium and three in the right--arranged like a zipper. He imagined it could one day hold a long and skinny padlock to "close" my vagina. A kind of decorative chastity belt. The idea was bold, even a little wild... and undeniably exciting.

So I was persuaded, and said: 'Yes.'

We found a studio and booked an appointment for the next day. That evening, I completely shaved my underbelly for the first time--another new experience, and one I quite enjoyed.

I have kept it bare ever since. Not because I want to be a little girl again, because I don't, but because the adornments stand out better. Très chic!

At 10 a. m. the following morning, I stepped into the studio, admittedly nervous about getting the five rings all at once, in such a sensitive place. The piercer was calm and reassuring, Dieu merci. He told me I could stop at any point--after one, two, however many--if it became too painful.

We chose five 12-karat gold captive bead rings with a smaller diameter--only 1.5 cm. He carefully marked the five spots, aligning them to match the drawing my boyfriend had made. When I looked down at my freshly shaved skin and the tiny purple dots outlining where the rings would go, I knew it was going to be a long and intense session.

And it was.

He began with the top right, then moved to the left, back to the right, and so on. With each needle prick, each insertion, and each click of a ring being closed, the pain intensified. Tears welled in my eyes--not just from the pain, but from the overwhelming emotional energy of the moment. After the fourth ring, I was on the verge of sobbing.

The piercer gently asked if I wanted to stop.

'No,' I whispered through tears. 'It would be ridiculous to stop now, just before the last one.'

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After the Final Five

When the piercer finished his work, I looked down at myself for the first time. The five rings were perfectly placed, just as planned--but there was a lot of blood. Well, kind of. I wasn't prepared for that. It made me feel uneasy, even a little faint. Thankfully, the piercer remained calm and kind. He helped clean me up and assured me that the bleeding was completely normal.

The walk back to the hostel was awful. Each step sent fresh waves of pain through me, and by the time we got to the room, I couldn't hold back the tears. I spent the entire next day in bed, head pounding, crying on and off. It took a day for the bleeding to stop, and three days for the pain to fully subside.

So much for a relaxing holiday in Amsterdam. No sex either, something my boyfriend hadn't realised. He thought I'd be horny as hell. In fact, it took a full month before I felt ready for sex again, by which time he no longer was in the frame... but I am getting ahead of myself.

However, something shifted when I was finally pain-free and moved around the room--naked. I began to notice the subtle weight of the rings. Small though they were, they tugged very gently as I walked around, an ever-present reminder of their placement. And almost miraculously, all five piercings healed fully within two weeks. From that point on, I began to enjoy the look and feel of the rings alongside my vagina. To help with hygiene during healing, I kept shaving daily.

Ironically, that month of abstinence from sex revealed more than any piercing ever could: my boyfriend's true colours. He wasn't interested in me, only in the novelty of screwing a metal girl. So I said what needed to be said: 'Au revoir!'

Once I was fully healed, I started experimenting. I tried using a padlock, as originally imagined--but that pulled on my labia unbearably. Not quite the desired effect. The only method that looked right was passing a safety pin through all five rings and snapping it closed. The visual was striking, though not exactly elegant.

But still, the first part of my plan--my plan--was complete.

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Nostrils and earlobes

One year ago, to mark my 22nd birthday, I completed the final part of my plan in just a few days. I had my ears pierced some more--using a piercing gun, no fancy ritual this time. I'm not a piercing purist; I just want to look good. Now, I have three holes in my left earlobe and four in the right. That's enough for me.

I also had my right nostril pierced and adorned it with a small gold ring. Simple. Balanced. Just right.

I could have the second chain, the necklace, you know... I could have it dangle from my nose to the middle of the nipple chain. Talking about elegant... Peut-être!

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Locked for Chastity after all

As I've written in the above, I had my first sexual experience with a girl when I was 20. My second came just a few months ago.

It began innocently enough--on campus, a girl approached me to ask about my nostril piercing. She was considering getting one herself and wondered if I could recommend a good studio. Naturally, our conversation expanded to other piercings-- I said: 'some are visible, some are not.' We talked for hours. Eventually, we went back to her room, because - you guessed it - she was keen to see those that weren't visible.

I undressed to show her everything. She undressed too. What followed was a night of heat, curiosity, and discovery. She was obsessed by my intimate piercings, but didn't go overboard on the wrong side. She used them wisely, to stimulate me and bring me off very well indeed.

Afterwards, she remained fascinated by the five outer labia rings I wore. I confided in her that these were originally intended for chastity, but, as I'd discovered, not so easy to actually lock.

Lo and behold, a few weeks later, she returned to my place with a triumphant smile and said, 'I've got it.'

She had found a short bronze bar, the kind plumbers use apparently (??) --0.5 cm in diameter and about four cm long. She had polished both ends to a smooth finish and drilled two tiny holes near each end. Through one of the holes she threaded a small bronze ring. Then she carefully slid the bar vertically through all five of my outer labia rings, bottom to top. Finally, she opened my triangle CBR and the bottom labia one and fixed the top and bottom of the bar to these rings.

It fit perfectly. The bar was now anchored--and thus closed my labia. The feeling was immediate, undeniable: this was the sensation I had been searching for. I felt closed!

Of course, it's not a real chastity device. I can always remove it, if I wanted to. But, as my friend playfully suggested, we could design a shield to cover my entire vulva, or at least my clit and vagina opening, and attach it to the bar somehow. We sketched ideas together, though we are not engineers and making it practical seemed like a step too far.

Where do I stand? I've worn the triangle-bar arrangement for two full weeks--without any discomfort. I plan to remove it around my period, but honestly, I may not need do so. Everything feels fine. It's a new game... one that is thrilling, sensual, and deeply personal.

The girl and I were together for a while.

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In front of the mirror

Look at me! I stand naked in front of my mirror and study the final result once again. I smile and say out loud: 'Okay, I think that's nice. We'll stop here.'

It took me two years to get all the rings I wanted--but now, finally, my body feels in perfect harmony with my mind. Any more than this and I will not simply feel adorned...

I'd feel like a Christmas tree!

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Living with My Rings: A post-script

After all the excitement of realising my long-term piercing plan, the reality of living with the upshot slowly settles in. It's not just about the look or the thrill--it's about the day-to-day care, the surprises, and sometimes the inconveniences.

First of all, the brass bar started to corrode and get green. I said we are not engineers. But my friend's boyfriend was. So, she gave him the bar and he made a stainless steel copy - in fact, a copy that was twice as thick, and nicely heavier. He asked if he could fit it with a goofy smile, but I said: 'Non, Merci! Perhaps I will show you later!'

Dressing has become an art form. Some fabrics catch on the tiny rings, turning a simple sweater into a potential hazard. I've learned to avoid wearing scarves with loose threads or tight sweaters that might tug painfully at my nipple chains or triangle bar. And bras? Oh, bras can be a real challenge. I often have to pick ones with adjustable hooks or even go braless on days when my piercings need a break. That delicate balance between comfort and style is always on my mind.

Hygiene is a strict discipline, especially when I wear the bar. Neglect isn't an option--any infection could mean weeks of pain and require removal of the rings. Even now, after a year, I'm cautious during showers and workouts, knowing how sensitive these piercings can be.

Public reactions add another layer. I remember once at a pool party when I was wearing the full ensemble, because I thought everyone there was aware of my leanings. But there were some guys as guests and one of them noticed the faint outline of my waist chain beneath my swimsuit and the obvious chain ensemble on my chest, which disappeared towards obvious destinations. He stopped in his tracks and stared at me. I was confident enough to answer his look of surprise by saying boldly, 'Yes, I have chained my mamelons and more!', and briefly uncovering my left nipple. 'Wow!', he said and his expression was almost reverent. A reminder that my body art is both a personal celebration and a bold statement! Some people ask questions; others stare silently. I've grown comfortable with the curious glances--and sometimes I smile quietly to myself, knowing the secret they don't see.

One of my most triumphant moments came when I wore a low-cut evening gown to a friend's wedding. The nipple chain was fully visible, catching the light with every movement. I felt powerful and beautiful, owning my look completely. Several guests complimented me, some even asking about the delicate gold jewellery. That night, I realised again how my piercings weren't just decorations--they were part of my confidence, my self-expression, my story...

But not all experiences have been strictly graceful. I'll never forget the time I went shopping for a dress. In the changing room, I was halfway through trying on a tight-fitting top when I noticed the chain from my nipple rings had snagged on the fabric. Panicking slightly, I tried to discreetly free it without attracting attention. Just then, a shop assistant knocked and asked if I needed help. Caught in that awkward moment, I had to explain--briefly and sheepishly--that my jewellery had gotten caught. The assistant didn't blink an eye, smiled politely, and efficiently freed me. This time, I was the one left blushing, wondering whether she thought I was a total slapper.

There was also a more painful experience with a male lover early on. When I undressed and revealed my piercings, especially the intimate ones, and proceeded to remove the chastity bar, his excitement quickly turned to hesitation. He admitted that he never saw anything like my ring-and-chain arrangement and he found the whole thing intimidating. Also, he was unsure how to navigate the rings during fucking. His discomfort was palpable, and eventually, he and his nice cock pulled away. At first, I felt awkward. Could we go on? I worried my body and choices might be too much for this Mr. Right to accept. But then I realised that my piercings are part of who I am, and anyone who truly cares will embrace all of me, not just parts! That I should also be patient with others' journeys in understanding. I am sad to say that this candidate escaped me.

Living with my piercings means embracing both the beauty and the practical challenges. It's a daily dance between self-expression and the realities of the world around me--a dance that on balance I've come to love.