masochist
Story found on the Internet:
(...)Then I noticed an all male staff walking around and wondered “Wait a minute, is a guy going to be bleaching my asshole?” I mean, it was weird for me, as a girl, to get something like that done by a man. I thought it was going to be a 40-year-old Russian esthetician named Olga who was very quiet, moved quickly, but had a comforting quality about her.
When I handed in the clip board I was informed “Salvatore will see you now.” Suddenly an attractive man with a shaved head and yoga pants approached me, and asked me to follow him into a room.
“Please remove everything on bottom and I’ll be back in two,” he said, and I swear he held up two fingers which looked like they wanted to penetrate every male ass that walked in there.
I started getting nervous and said, “Um, is this like only for guys?”
“It’s fine, believe me I’ve had a lot of female customers before,” he reassured me and closed the door.
I removed my pants and laid on the table, draping the towel on me as he had instructed. Ahh, it was kind of relaxing in there. The lights were dim, I was exhausted from my long day of school and the music was drifting me to sleep, something comparable to Sade combined with a rainforest sound.
Suddenly Salvatore burst into the room, turned the lights to the brightest wattage of any bulb I’ve ever seen and announced, “Now is not time to be shy. Get on all fours and remove the towel.”
I felt like I was abducted by aliens and was about to be probed and inspected, under a fluorescent light bulb in a cheap spa set up somewhere in Chelsea, belonging to a bunch of Filipino torture porn enthusiasts. He began to examine my ass and let me know I didn’t need any waxing. Well, duh. Then he absorbed a cotton ball with some obscure liquid from a bottle, who knows what the hell was concocted into there, and began to wipe it over my ass about a hundred times. Then he walked away and asked how I felt.
“Well, Savlatore, I feel like there are a thousand little Persians from the movie
300 throwing darts at each other and starting a burning war of fire on my ass” would have been the honest truth, but I went with, “Um fine.”
Then he absorbed another cotton ball and repeated to wipe me, like the little baby I had become, so helpless and defenseless.
“Does it burn?” he asked, almost excitedly, knowing what this does to someone’s ass, knowing I wanted to scream and cry out “Stop, stop! I’ve had enough!” It had become a sick game, I felt like I was in
Hostel 3 or
Saw… umm…
8?
“How… much…more?” I was fighting out the words, tapping my foot on the mat to distract myself from the pain of what felt like a lime penetrating a paper cut. I felt like I was in a graphic novel and the villain was defeating me at the clock tower and I was out of strength to crawl away.
“Once more,” he assured me.
I took a breath, it was over soon, he wiped once more.
“Now, lie down and wait for one minute, then you can get dressed. And go out and buy the softest toilet paper you can find.”(...)
read full story at:
http://www.streetbonersandtvcarnage.com/blog/open-mic-my-first-anal-bleaching/