Long Toenail Goddess

the story of o

I'm smoking opium in my boudoir... I am naked, and it's hot in the room.  I'm spread on the cool silky sheets...  Oh, I remeber this tantalizing scent: poppies blossoming in spring, decaying roses, burnt grass of my native steppes... But for me it will always be the memory of Siam, the sweet taste of sinful indulgence. 

I came to  Bangkok to study the ancient art of Thai massage.  One of my slaves arranged a private mansion for me.  Oh, what a lovely place it was... In the midst of pungent, hot, buzzing human river, a serene palace hidden in a gem of a garden.  There, for the whole month, night after night, late, after it had cooled down, my lovely teachers would show up, dressed in whispering silks.  They first put fragrant oils on my skin and stretched me and caressed me, and worshipped my body.  They gave me the foot massage of my life.  Each touch was like a touch of a feather... They played my body like a musical instrument.  My long, gentle toes sang in their sun-kissed soft hands.  They stroke my arches, my instep, my slender ankles...  Then we would stop, and smoke...

And then my slave appeared.  He never failed to place his tribute into a silver tray.  He served as my guinea-pig.  I learned to stretch and massage using his body.  I blindfolded him and gaged him.  He was just a body, and he was not allowed to move unless I moved him.  If he did, I will punished him.  I went to the Siamese torture museum... Loved it...  Devious minds...

Hours flew by.  Sometimes my slave was just lying on his back while I studied the muscle structure on him.   I dug my fingers deep into his abdominal cavity to feel his liver, his intestines, his spleen.  I knoew he was hurting, but he couldn't make a sound.  A quiet harp was playing far away...  I turned him around and put my knees on his back.  My teachers showed me again and again how to twist his arm to get underneath the shoulderblade.  I'm so strong compared to Thai women, and I pushed too hard and my slave moaned.  I knew he wanted more pain.  Gentle laughter of my quiet teacher rang over the tops of the swaying trees... The birds were singing in their silver cages...  They taught me to use tension and relaxation...  I gave him tension.  I gave him relaxation...  Leaving his burning body cuffed to the bedpost, I jumped into the coolness of the pool with my Thai beauties...

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