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[Original] Gua Sha 

    page views:1  Publication date:2010-12-20  
She said her back and waist ached, so I offered to treat it.
She asked, "You know how to treat these things? How do you do it ?"
I said I'd give her gua sha (scraping therapy).
She asked, "Will it hurt?"
I said, "How will you know if you don't try? You have to try it yourself."
She thought about it and agreed.
I took out a small bottle of olive oil and found a porcelain spoon in the kitchen. I had her take off her clothes, leaving only her underwear and bra.
She seemed a little nervous; she even trembled slightly when I brushed her loose hair to one side. I told her not to be nervous. Her muscles were still tense.
I gently poured a few drops of olive oil onto her cervical spine; it felt slightly cool.
Then, holding her shoulder with one hand, I gently spread the olive oil with the spoon handle and began scraping. At first, she was quite nervous, but it didn't hurt, so she gradually relaxed, which was good.
After about seven or eight scrapes, petechiae (sha) appeared. I increased the pressure slightly. "Does it hurt?"
"No, it feels quite comfortable."
I scraped for about 30 more strokes, which seemed about right. Then I moved on to her shoulders. I pulled down her bra straps; the cold air was indeed quite strong, and her shoulder blades were a bit purple. Gradually, her shoulders were better too, and then it was time to scrape her back.
"Could you take off your bra? Otherwise, it might get oily," I said.
She hesitated for a moment, then reached behind her back and unhooked it, letting it fall naturally to her sides, revealing her entire back. I had her cross her arms and rest her head on her forehead, and she seemed embarrassed, burying her face in her arms.
I poured some oil and dripped it onto both sides of her spine. With each drop of oil hitting her skin, she trembled involuntarily. I patiently scraped down her cervical spine, then her thoracic spine, and finally her back. Her entire back was a purplish-red patch, with scattered petechiae forming streaks. As time passed, she groaned comfortably, then quickly suppressed it.
“Feel as much as you want, no one will laugh at you. It’s a good interaction, and I know your reaction will help with the scraping.” I said, quite persuasively. She didn’t respond.
That’s okay, take it slow. When I scraped her lumbar spine, she started humming softly again. I scraped slowly, my other hand sliding down to her waist. She shifted uncomfortably a couple of times. I held her down. “Don’t move around.” I
was about to scrape her waist. “Aren’t you worried about getting oil on your underwear?” I asked.
“Oh, should I take it off?” “
Take it off, that’s best. If you don’t want to, just pull it down a little bit, just so it doesn’t get oil on it.”
She gently pulled her underwear down a little.
“Not enough, it still gets oily.”
She pulled it down a little more.
“Still not enough.”
After repeating this 4 or 5 times, her breasts were already showing a little. “That’s enough.”
Hearing me say that was enough, she breathed a sigh of relief.
I started gently scraping her waist, and slowly she started humming comfortably again.
When scraping her waist and back, I no longer used the spoon handle, but the spoon itself. After scraping for a while, I started gently teasing the edges of her waist and hips. She moved restlessly, her muscles tensing and relaxing, gradually responding to my spoonful of strokes. I pretended to be finished, telling her it was okay if there were no more problems.
"Hmm, is it over?" she asked, disappointed.
"Hmm, almost done. Your neck, shoulders, back, and waist are all better. Is there anything else that bothers you?" I asked.
"Um, um," she stammered.
"No? Then I'll get you a towel to wipe it."
"No, I sit all day, my butt is sore. Can I scrape it?" She blushed, but I couldn't see it because she buried her face in her arms like an ostrich.
"Then you'll have to take off your underwear," I teased.
"Take it off," she said in a barely audible voice.
"Take it off yourself, my hands are oily."
"It's okay." She didn't have the courage to show her face from her arms.
I reached out to take off her underwear, and she cooperated obediently yet coyly, freeing her body from its final restraints.
There seemed to be some dampness in her crotch. I didn't point it out.
I started gently scraping her full buttocks, not to cause any petechiae, but that was to be expected, since I wasn't scraping there for the purpose of petechiae. The varying pressure of the spoon made her moan softly. Every time I slid the spoon along her waist and moved to the other side, she would slightly arch her buttocks, as if trying to keep the spoon there.
I carefully scraped along the line of her buttocks, all the way to the upper edge of her thighs, circling and drawing circles, and her buttocks arched higher and higher.
"Is it uncomfortable?" I asked her deliberately.
"No, no."
"Then why are they arched so high? I thought I was hurting you."
"No."
"Lie down properly, be careful not to expose yourself."
"I can't lie down, it's uncomfortable."
"Then I won't scrape anymore." I pretended to pull away.
Her hand finally came out from under her face and grabbed mine. "No, it feels quite good, scrape me a little more."
So, I started scraping again, and her breathing became more and more rapid.
"Should I scrape inside?"
"Do whatever you want."
I turned the spoon around and gently teased her tailbone, groin, and anus with the handle. She groaned, and her buttocks began to rise again.
I gently touched with the handle and slowly entered. Her small anus swallowed the handle, leaving the large spoon exposed. The white spoon against her tight, oily anus was such a lewd sight.
I gently turned the handle, and she trembled violently. She sobbed softly, whether from pain or pleasure, I couldn't tell.
I made her kneel on the bed.
"It's time to finish. I'll pat her hard to accelerate blood circulation. It might hurt a little, so you have to bear it."
"Just a little longer, okay?" she pleaded.
"No, if her body cools down in a while, it won't be effective anymore. Let's stop now. If you still want, we can continue."
"Okay, then." She still showed reluctance at being interrupted.
My hands quickly patted her back. My hand slapped her body with a crisp "smack," startling her, but I held her down and continued slapping rapidly. The sound of slapping echoed, each slap landing solidly. When I lifted my hand, a bright red handprint remained on her skin, the five fingers distinct, overlapping a patch of already purple petechiae. Soon, her back was covered with crisscrossing handprints. It looked eerie yet tragically beautiful. At first, she endured it, gradually letting out soft cries of pain. As I continued, she gradually stopped crying out in pain, perhaps becoming numb. After slapping her entire back and waist, I began slapping her buttocks. Her pert buttocks, white and bright red, met my slaps, a breathtaking sight. When my slap landed, they contracted from the stimulation, causing the anus to automatically flip and slowly bulge outwards, just about to slip out, but I always managed to push it back in at the last moment.
After my palm prints covered her entire buttocks, I stopped, my hand numb and tingling. Seeing her like a boiled shrimp gave me a real sense of accomplishment. Then I noticed a transparent thread between her legs, some clinging to her thighs, some dripping onto the bed, leaving a small, damp patch on the sheet.
I carried her to the dressing mirror, turning her to face the reflection. Her front half was alluringly white, her back half a deep red. She shyly crossed her arms over her chest, covering her breasts, and closed her eyes, as if that would prevent it from getting worse. With a clatter, the spoon, defying gravity, slipped from her grasp.
I led her to the bathroom and washed her. As the water hit her back, she cried out in pain; the hot, fine stream of water felt like needles pricking her numb nerves. But her lower body became increasingly wet.
The lack of sexual desire was quite effective; suppressing her urges, preventing an outburst. The sensations in other areas, however, became even more sensitive.

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