NSFW Author

I woke up crying. Like always when I am alone in my one room and a half apartment.

Solitude is my burden, shame is my lover, I’ve lived with is all of my life.

I am not working tonight and as always, I seriously wonder if I should even get out of bed.

Well, I go to the john, but once I am done, I return to lay naked on my tiny bed.

I often wonder what the point of living is?

I don’t even know what time it is… 15h24?

That’s a good news, the day is almost over already, and mindless tv shows will be on in a few hours.

I have flashbacks from the previous night, stripping, lap dancing, being a toy to customers.

I guess I didn’t drink enough if I can remember big parts of it.

I certainly don’t have that much of a headache…

Well, one of them went too far in the booth and grabbed my breasts rather violently. Now that I think about it, perhaps I have him to thank for the lack of a hangover.

I grab my purse and count my profit. 126$. Hardly worth it, but then again, what else am I going to do?

Everyone knows I was a high school drop-out at 14, but what many do not even realize was that I was a drop-in at 9. I had simply stopped caring for school once learned the truth about who I was.

I try to sleep again, but even sleep isn’t always an escape.

I’d drink again but it usually doesn’t work at home. It only works when I am stripping.

What I needed now was pain. Physical pain to avoid emotional pain.

I grab my precious bag of clothespins.

Today and tomorrow, I can use them since I am not stripping for another 3 days, but Wednesday, I’d have to find something else or I might have marks on my body when I go stripping Thursday evening.

Ah, Wednesday… there’s the black lotus. At worst, Robert, the owner, can help me change my mind.

I start lightly, a few clothespins around my breasts. I know that they hurt when you place them, but they hurt even more when you remove them and blood returns to the skin. I passed out a few times removing the last ones but sadly, it rarely happens now.

15 clothespin per breast and the pain is starting to be unbearable. Good. Time for more…

I only managed to place 3 clothespin on the left side of my vagina and 2 on the right when I began feeling light headed.

Now, the second phase would start…

To maximize the pain, you should remove them in the order you place them, that way, they each more or less hurt the same.

But I have a different routine… I have 2 clothespins which are painted black (with a sharpie). These are the first two I place on my breasts.

I remove one by one all of the other ones, which causes an almost unbearable level of pain.

By the time I get to the 5 placed on my intimate lips, they are even more sensitive since it takes me more time to remove the pins than to place them as I need to breathe a few times before I can move to the next one.

Finally, I am left with only two pins, the black ones.

By then, I am on auto-pilot, my mind has drifted and I can feel almost nothing but the physical pain.

I remove them both at the same time. I let out a cry in pain and tears flowed down my cheeks.

Exhausted, I remained motionless on my bed for over 30 minutes, during which I hoped to forget about my problems.

But I can’t.

I will never forget who I am.

My grand-parents tried to protect me as I was growing up, but as I asked more and more questions, I eventually learned the truth when I was 9.

My mother had me when she was 14. She killed herself when I was 2. My father left the country. He was 16 when he conceived me and never got over the death of his girlfriend, my mother.

The problem however, is that my mother wasn’t just his girlfriend, but she was also his sister.

My grand-parents knew. Our neighbors knew.

Worse, my classmates, my teachers and everyone around me knew.

Do you understand why I can’t look at myself in the mirror? I am the face of incest.