What Is Needle Play, and How Can ‘That’ Be Sexy?
I tried a kink I never thought I would. Here’s what I learned…

I used to ask this question myself. When I started perusing the BDSM scene I came across images of people with needles poked through their skin—some using the colored ends (which I later learned referred to their gauge) to produce intricate patterns and shapes, and I’d scoff at it:
How can that possibly be sexy? Or even exciting? It looks painful, and not in a good way.
Not kink-shaming though; whatever greases your crankshaft—you do you! I wasn’t scared or repulsed — by needles or by blood—I simply didn’t get. What’s the point? What does it do?
Strange, I thought. Next!
Then, I went to a needle workshop
Fast forward to a few months ago, right before COVID19 hit Europe, my partner and I were planning to meet some friends at a casual play-party. The event description announced that there’d be a needle play workshop before.
—Wanna do it? he asked.
—Sure! I responded, surprising even myself.
At this point, we’ve both seen a lot. He’s even done a full-on hook suspension, which I’d certainly deem insane a few years ago. Now, knowing that my otherwise sensible partner has hung from the ceiling by hooks through his shoulders, needles sounded fairly mellow—at least in comparison.
We decided to give it a shot.
Why not, right?
We showed up, aloof, and with low expectations to meet our instructors for the night. Adeline was a petite ball of energy in barely-there lingerie who could hardly stop giggling at the mention of blood. Again, a tad strange, but whatever shoots your rockets. Her portly partner, Greg, was a gentle, bearded guy in a black metal shirt who looked like he could easily lift her off the ground with one hand.
The two of them thoroughly and enthusiastically explained the ins and outs of the practice, including safety measures, and every possible health and hygiene concern.
Due to the pair’s intriguing dynamic; their joking, laughing, winking, and cooing at each other and their audience, the practice itself took on a different quality for me. I saw how it had the potential to build intimacy and forge connection and trust.
As the two discussed and demonstrated the proper and safe ways to pierce your partner with needles to achieve a state of euphoria, Jay and I looked at each other to try to assess the other’s reactions.
After the demonstration, those of us who wanted to were given a chance to test our newfound knowledge in a properly sterilized and private corner of the venue. Jay and I signed up, of course. He pierced me first and then we switched.
There was something thrilling about being on either side; the way we had to be deeply in-tune with each other and constantly check-in:
—Is this fine? Too deep? Does it hurt? Does it feel nice? Is it doing anything for you?
—Yeah, it’s good. It’s not too deep, you can keep going. I feel a tingly sensation. It hurts less than I imagined.
It was a lovely and curious experiment, but, with less than ten minutes each, it didn’t give us the time to experience the full deal.
Then, we bought 400 needles!
A quality I admire about my partner is that when he does something, he really does it. He doesn’t like to put time and energy into anything unless it leads to something. So, since we went to the workshop, he suggested we try it for real.
Me, I would have most likely gone, tried it, and not touched it again unless it fell into my lap. I was intrigued, but the logistics, including the sourcing and ordering of all the equipment, put me off.
Luckily, he put in my lap. Or rather, he made the online purchase; 400 single-use medical needles in different gauges (they come in packs of 100 each), sterile cleansing wipes, medical gloves, wound care supplies, anti-microbial cleaning spray, and a sharps bin to put the used needles in. Then we waited patiently.
In a serendipitous way, this all came at a fitting time along with us self-isolating during the pandemic. We were going to live together for two months, for the first time ever, and had sworn to keep it creative to not get stuck on the couch with Netflix. Now, we had one more out-of-the-ordinary activity to experiment with, aside from our regular repertoire.
In the end, we spent two evenings diving into the world of needle play.
Here’s what I learned:
Do it sober!
This might seem obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to us. Against the best recommendations from our workshop instructors, we didn’t listen to this the first time we tried.
Having a drink or a joint before a round of rough sex is one thing, and can even heighten sensations, but when you need to be as fully tuned in as you must be to pierce your partner’s skin with a sharp object, it’s better to drop them altogether. Obviously, we had not had much and didn’t think it would influence the experience, but I quickly found that a slight buzz made it difficult to distinguish the finer sensations produced by the needles and separate which high was derived from what.
Don’t do it in a rush
If you’re a pro with plenty of experience, I suppose you can add needles to the mix on a whim. But as a newb, it’s better to have ample time; I recommend a couple of hours.
You want to be set-up, showered, and to prepare both mentally and physically. Besides, you never want to hurry something that does pose a risk if you don’t do it properly. Playing with needles is an activity that requires presence and focus, so you shouldn’t be too tired, distracted, or looking at the clock.
Be educated and properly equipped
It goes without saying that you need to know what you’re doing—and the right supplies. Using anything but single-wrapped, sterilized, medical-grade needles is out of the question and, not to mention, dangerous!
Attending a workshop with experienced practitioners is preferred, but not everyone has access to this. With some proper research, you can find a lot of good info online—I’ll link to a few articles I found at the bottom of this article. I wasn’t successful in finding any great videos though, and if you look for them, be prepared to find lots of highly graphic content—Not for the faint of heart!
It hurts less than you’d think
Depending on your level of pain tolerance, beginner-level needle play doesn’t hurt a lot. You feel a pinch as it enters, but it’s a fast, clean sensation that stops the moment the needle is through the skin. After you might feel a warm, tingly rush around the pierced area. The sensations become more intense as you place several needles close to each other and if your needle-top moves and twists the needles using the plastic cap on the end, or if they gently tap on the taut skin above the pierced needle. My partner and I played a bit with this and found that it absolutely heightens the experience.
Of course, needle play can hurt a lot depending on how far you take it. A thicker needle is more painful than a thinner one, which makes sense. The depth, placement, and amount of needles in one area are some aspects that affect the level of pain—as well as the feeling of euphoria.
Yes, it does make you a bit high
When you break skin, even when it’s only the very thin top surface, it produces an endorphin and dopamine rush that causes a mild, but distinguished high.
For those familiar with powerplay in general, you’ll know that the submissive, or bottom, can experiences what’s called sub-space, which is often described as a floating, euphoric, out-of-body state. The dominant also experiences a dom-high which is basically opposite; you become highly focused, sharp, and in-your-body instead.
With needle play, you access these states, but in a more calm and subtle way.
It’s actually very relaxing
When I was being needled I felt as if I was being given some form of alternative medicine or spa treatment—I’ll even describe the experience as zen-like. It made me incredibly calm and relaxed and allowed me to tune into my breath and body to simply feel all the delicate sensations.
It’s a bit like adult level doctor/patient play
What kids love about this game, apart from the role-play, is the opportunity to explore each other’s bodies and reactions.
Needle play felt a bit like this; an adult, next-level version of this childlike exploration. There are other forms of medical-play withing BDSM too, and I imagine this aspect to be part of the appeal. Being the needle-top, the one piercing my partner, I enjoyed watching his reactions and responding to them; to understand which actions produced which result.
I wouldn't describe it as sexy—in a traditional sense
The setting itself was indeed sexy though; we were mostly naked, and fully tuned into each other, with candles and music in the background. It produced a multitude of sensations that were in ways erotic, yet didn’t cause me to be wildly turned on. Instead, I felt highly sensual, soft, and in the mood for slow, caring, and intimate sex after.
Needle play is definitely a kink that’s far more unusual than your average spanking, blindfolds or handcuffs ordeal—it’s won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.
Is needle play for you?
There shouldn’t be much blood involved in this kind of needle-play, but there could be some, so if the idea of that—or needles as a whole—freaks you out, then this probably isn’t for you. It’s also not for the sloppy and careless who aren’t concerned with health and safety—this is a must! Lastly, it’s not something to jump into with a stranger since there is a risk of blood transmission, even with safety precautions.
If, on the other hand, you’re curious and like to explore unusual sensations and you’re fascinated by our bodies’ abilities to produce natural highs, then it could be of interest. If you’re the responsible type and have someone you trust to explore with, and you like the idea of closely tuning into and experimenting with each other, then it could be.
In the end, I found it more sensual and enjoyable than I had anticipated. I don’t see it becoming a regular bedroom activity for me, instead, it’s an occasional indulgence for when I’m in the mood for something calming, yet out of the ordinary.

Some useful references if you want to learn more about needle play: Bold Pleasures, Deviance & Desire, Sxy Sadist.






