I have had very few experiences, but one act that I have heard mentioned by an SP & have seen on multiple websites of others is this "hot yoga". It sounds extremely sadistic & cruel, yet it has a certain twisted attraction to me. I do not know whether this is normally an extra or included in the regular rate. I doubt that I will ever be courageous enough to give it a try. If hot simply means sexy babes, I'm ok with it. If hot yoga is defined by the barbaric exposure of one to painful contortions, excessive heat & oppressive mind control, it cannot be for me. For the time being, I plan to steer a wide path around any SP mentioning the hot yoga.
What is the creepiest thing you ever seen, told by, did with a SP, Massage/SC girl
- Thread starter Subaru
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You’ve seen hot yoga mentionned with sp ads? Or hot yoga ads? Hot yoga being yoga in a very hot room
Yes Flyingby, that must be it - I've seen it mentioned mostly on their actual websites. Maybe that's how these young women stay in such remarkable shape. Just so long as it isn't for the customer, I'm ok. Thirty years ago I had a girlfriend convince me to go to aerobics under the guise of improving sexual performance. Following the first (& only) class, I could hardly walk right, let alone screw for the next week.
This story was told to me by my GF at the time, told to her by her hair stylist. This hair stylist got many strip club dancers at her salon and one of her clients told her that men were pigs because she found piece of metal up her ass. My GF did not know more details of what this metal was. I can only speculate that during a lap dance the dancer allowed digits up her ass and the metal must have been a ball bearing but if it was warmed up in his pocket and lubricated she may not have it noticed during the insertion.
I went to see a masseuse that had this dude hanging around her apartment. She did the massage in another room but he was still there in the apartment. When I did the digits she was pretty wet and squishy.
This happened a while ago and I am still creeped out by it... It was a big old mess and misunderstanding due to the language barrier.
We had been going at it hard for 30 minutes when she dropped on her knees, removed the condom and gave me a BJ.
She could probably see I was enjoying it a lot, I was also grabbing her by the ponytail getting really into it.
She stopped for a second and told me in French, and I quote : " Uhmm ouais crache moi dessus, crache moi dans le visage. "
I stopped for a few seconds and looked at her wondering if she was for real (It didn't turn me on tbh...). So I asked her : " Es-tu vraiment sûre? ".
She repeated again enthusiastically : " Oui, j'adore ça, crache moi dessus! " She really seemed like she wanted it now.
So I did the first thing that came to mind and I spit on her. Literally, spit.
She stopped, wide-eyed and insulted (I don't blame her at all!!!) and told me : " Qu'est-ce que tu fais là????? "
Apparently she meant for me to give her a facial. I mean, crache for me was spit...
I apologized, gave a tip and hightailed it out of there.
Nowadays I make sure to understand exactly what someone means. It sometimes makes it a bit awkward, but prevents me from ever making the same language mistake ever again!
We had been going at it hard for 30 minutes when she dropped on her knees, removed the condom and gave me a BJ.
She could probably see I was enjoying it a lot, I was also grabbing her by the ponytail getting really into it.
She stopped for a second and told me in French, and I quote : " Uhmm ouais crache moi dessus, crache moi dans le visage. "
I stopped for a few seconds and looked at her wondering if she was for real (It didn't turn me on tbh...). So I asked her : " Es-tu vraiment sûre? ".
She repeated again enthusiastically : " Oui, j'adore ça, crache moi dessus! " She really seemed like she wanted it now.
So I did the first thing that came to mind and I spit on her. Literally, spit.
She stopped, wide-eyed and insulted (I don't blame her at all!!!) and told me : " Qu'est-ce que tu fais là????? "
Apparently she meant for me to give her a facial. I mean, crache for me was spit...
I apologized, gave a tip and hightailed it out of there.
Nowadays I make sure to understand exactly what someone means. It sometimes makes it a bit awkward, but prevents me from ever making the same language mistake ever again!
Called a lady for a massage and she give me an appointment. I arrived at the appropriate time but there was no answer at her door. I called her place 10-15 times in that hour but there was no answer on her phone. I called another 5-6 times in the next hour before she answered. She agreed to see me and told me to come over. During the massage she gave me the deluxe package without me asking or her asking for an up charge. I suspect she was a double booker and booked another client in my first appointment time. When I called multiple times she freaked out and thought I might take retribution on her and she gave me a bonus to appease me. I went to see this lady about 10 more times and there was never any up charge.
I though the stories were supposed to be creepy...
Well, here's one that fits the bill. True story. Many years ago, in my spinach years, when I was green in experience and hot to trot and the street was still a place where you could potentially - the potential was low, sure, but my smaller brain was in charge - find a decent SP, I was horny at 5:30 in the morning coming off the JC bridge. I decided to drive around HoMa, and I found this cute chubby girl, didn't seem high. I didn't want to do it in the car in broad daylight, so I say do you have a place ? She says yeah and directs me to what I discovered was a crackhouse near Frontenac and Ste-Cat. Completely disgusting. A strung out hobo had rented a space under a table, another had one of the rooms, the dealer was watching TV on a couch next to the scraps from a Mcdonalds happy meal, the entire place reeked of shit and crack and meth. The girl of course asks for the money first and shows me to her room. If you know anything about the street, you know where this is going... She comes back, takes a few hits from her pipe. I have no idea why I stayed, At that point, both embarassed and a little curious, I try to touch her. She says: not now, wait till I'm finished. After 10 minutes of waiting , I left. Pathetic story of course, but a life lesson nevertheless.
Well, here's one that fits the bill. True story. Many years ago, in my spinach years, when I was green in experience and hot to trot and the street was still a place where you could potentially - the potential was low, sure, but my smaller brain was in charge - find a decent SP, I was horny at 5:30 in the morning coming off the JC bridge. I decided to drive around HoMa, and I found this cute chubby girl, didn't seem high. I didn't want to do it in the car in broad daylight, so I say do you have a place ? She says yeah and directs me to what I discovered was a crackhouse near Frontenac and Ste-Cat. Completely disgusting. A strung out hobo had rented a space under a table, another had one of the rooms, the dealer was watching TV on a couch next to the scraps from a Mcdonalds happy meal, the entire place reeked of shit and crack and meth. The girl of course asks for the money first and shows me to her room. If you know anything about the street, you know where this is going... She comes back, takes a few hits from her pipe. I have no idea why I stayed, At that point, both embarassed and a little curious, I try to touch her. She says: not now, wait till I'm finished. After 10 minutes of waiting , I left. Pathetic story of course, but a life lesson nevertheless.
In a conversation with an SP she corrects me when we were speaking about pharmaceuticals. I asked her how she knew this, and she tells me that she use to be a pharmacist. I did not ask her, but I suspect that she was asked to leave the profession when inventory was missing.
In fairness, how many of us have lost common sense while drinking? Granted that one should use caution if a gun is on one’s person. On that note, my FBI Agent friend carries his service revolver, which is a Glock I believe, at all times while off duty. It’s always emboldened me a bit because I know if any social situation goes bad, he has my back......with armed force. This guy also had to carry his weapon off duty and my theory is in the drunken haze he simply forgot about it. It was obvious that gravity dislodged it.
Many years ago when the street scene was alive, I picked up a hitch hiker that offered me her services. I asked her what do I get. Her response was anything you want. I put her to the test and we went to the motels on St. Jacques street. I got all orifices and stayed for 3 hours until the clerk at the desk called to kick us out as I only paid the siesta rate. In those days there were a lot of amateurs working the scene. I paid the same rate as what the other girls were asking for a quicky at the time.
I think I pulled a Kramer. ( re: Episode where George drives one girl to lesbianism and Kramer brings one back to hetero. ) There was an incall I use to go to, there was always a second lady there that was better looking than the one I went to see. On one occasion I asked if the other lady was available for a threesome. She said that she was and the first lady was surprised. They did the lesi show and both serviced me. I go there two weeks later and the first lady tells me that the other lady was full lesbian and had not been with a guy for years. I am only guessing that it could be that this lady had a very bad experience or experiences with white/Quebecois men, and I am visibly part minority. Her revulsion for men was not for all men but men of her own color.
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