Red thong

A Real Woman's Blog About 　　Red Thongs : A Red Thong on an Anal Examination Table
(Translator's Note: This article is reprinted from a real woman's blog online; I don't know if it's
the original author's fantasy.
If you like it, please give me a thumbs up. I will PM the original author's blog address, where there are
more hot articles
.) January 4, 2006 Although going to work wasn't great, winter wasn't so bad. In the warm
meeting room, all the sounds were far away. The red thong was tightly stretched between my buttocks, and
beyond that was the open pantyhose. Through the thick wool capri pants and woolen winter skirt, no one knew.
Not all the time do thongs have to be tightly tucked into the buttocks. Many times I still prefer to wear them
low, as if hanging in the middle of my buttocks, giving my anus and perineum some comfort. Hollywood stars can
wear their underwear like this; I think it's called showing off the "butt crack."
The panties were made of a very fine, thin fabric, without the thick ridges of typical thongs
. They boldly clung to a woman's most delicate areas, leaving deep indentations on the buttocks and waist, rubbing against the edges of the genitals,
and tightly gripping the cleft of the buttocks, giving the anus and perineum a burning sensation.
I bought them at a Cadecino store near Quancheng Square during my last business trip—
a gift to myself, for that lovely city and its springs.
Thinking back to that humiliating position I was in during the inspection, a secret shiver
crept out from the deepest recesses of my genitals, along the midline of my body, to the tip of my tongue—a tingling, numbing sensation.
I glanced up at the changing colors on the projector, then buried myself back behind the laptop,
my thoughts drifting to the deepest, dampest part of my being…
It must have been the summer of 2004. Because of a travel itinerary, I was stranded in that northern city.
I came out of Cadico wearing cute thongs, surrounded by advertisements for hemorrhoid treatments. What a
strange place, why so many people get this strange disease. Suddenly, from somewhere, a strange
, sinful thought jumped out, stirring my nerves.
I wanted to know my position on the hospital examination table, and what it would
feel like to have a strange man's fingers probing my body and rectum. I also wanted to know if doctors, accustomed to seeing all kinds of buttocks,
felt any urge when they saw my buttocks taut in my red thong. I wanted to experience the humiliation of
being driven .
I was confident in my body, especially proud of the smooth, curvaceous lines of my waist and hips, and wanted to see
what .
Standing at the entrance of the "Traditional Chinese Medicine Proctology and Hemorrhoid Fistula" clinic, I hesitated before going in. It was
a room inside a quaint, old-fashioned hospital on Baotuquan Road.
Entering the large, worn room, I was somewhat bewildered.
I had assumed there would only be one elderly TCM doctor, but in fact, there were at least three. The doctor wasn't old at all, and there were two younger doctors who
looked like , or perhaps students.
Amidst their gleaming, somewhat surprised gazes, I carefully sat down on the stool in front of the doctor.
"Where does it hurt?" the doctor asked kindly.
"There…it's the anus…inside…sometimes it hurts…sometimes…" I was really
nervous , partly because of the fabricated story and the pain, and partly because describing my private area in front of so many strange men.
A burning sensation welled up deep inside my vagina; I worried that my new thong would become soaked.
The questioning lasted a long time; my face was burning hot, and I almost gave up and ran away several times. Finally, the doctor asked
me to have an examination, and told me to pay the fee after the examination. I didn't know if he was worried about losing
the opportunity to make money from patients or if he wanted to immediately manipulate and penetrate my alluring, soft body.
The examination table was at the other end of the huge room, all alone, high, hard, and without any
cover . Standing in front of it, I felt a real burning sensation inside my anus.
At the doctor's instruction, I took off my shoes and knelt at one end of the examination table. I felt lost, dizzy, and
the feeling of orgasm was overwhelming my brain. The air conditioning in the room wasn't very cold, but I was shivering slightly.
I was obedient and also scared, obediently lying down on my stomach. I really didn't know what those men wanted to do.
My burning face was against the white sheets, my buttocks sticking up high. I don't remember if the doctor told me to pull up my skirt and
take off my underwear. Actually, there's no difference. Although I'm not wearing a short skirt, in this position, the skirt
automatically rides up on my buttocks, and it's nervously sliding down the curve of my hips that curves towards my back.
If it weren't for the friction of the thong, it would have already betrayed me.
Right, the thong, the bright red thong! A gust of cool air from the air conditioner makes me feel like my entire buttocks
are exposed, and my anus involuntarily contracts, rubbing against the elastic and wrinkled strips of fabric on the back of the thong, creating
a burning sensation. The thong, which was loosely worn before, is now tightly stretched on my buttocks because of the upward curve of my buttocks,
as if it's going to dig into
my body. Is it really possible that someone, a doctor, with rough, large fingers, will insert into my body? It feels
unreal .
"Take off your underwear," I heard a local dialect say, followed by what sounded like swallowing.
It's the same doctor. I hadn't even noticed his heavy dialect before, but he forgot to say "take off
your pants "
or "lift your skirt." At this moment, my mind was unusually clear, perhaps
because .
My underwear lingered as it left my buttocks, perhaps because it had really been digging into the folds of my anus, or
perhaps my anus wasn't ready to be exposed to the summer sun. There really was sunlight; the
beautiful sun slanted in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, yet brazenly strolled in,
glancing at my bare buttocks from a distance.
The front of the thong covered my private parts, and as it came off, there was a slight tearing sensation; it must have
been soaked stuck to the fabric. The cool air from the air conditioner and the clear tactile sensation told me that my vaginal opening was now exposed to the air.
I didn't continue, perhaps because I knew my vagina must be full of white fluid, clinging to my labia minora,
and that I had already exposed the part of my body they were going to examine.
I don't know how much time passed—perhaps a second or two, a minute or two, an hour or two—when suddenly I felt…
I felt a heat in my buttocks, a small orgasm spreading from my anus to every part of my body. This previously
swollen, sensitive area was the entrance to my vagina. The doctor had turned on the examination light at the foot of the bed and
pulled it very close to my buttocks; the 100-watt incandescent bulb felt truly scorching.
Then I felt three pairs of eyes carefully examining my buttocks, the folds around my open anus, my
half-exposed genitals and swollen vaginal opening, the sticky fluid on my tight red thong, the slight trembling along
my hips and the tense opening and closing of my two orifices.
Then I heard men whispering, then felt them putting on their examination gloves, then
felt them dripping cool lubricant around my anus,
then felt a large man's hand holding and squeezing my left buttock, then felt a man's finger lingering and massaging the soft, chrysanthemum
-like , then…
a blankness. He entered, entered my body.
The climax immediately enveloped me. All around was darkness, except for the scorching heat of the examination light on my buttocks.
It wasn't that I hadn't experienced the feeling of something large filling my body before, nor the excruciating pain and madness of my anus being
pierced and even torn, but this was completely different. There was no sexual sensation whatsoever; it truly had
nothing to do with sex. Only a feeling of being conquered and controlled, like a lamb, trustingly allowing a stranger to dance inside
my rectum, inside my body. Willingly.
I don't know when it ended, but the climax continued. I heard someone ask, "Does it
hurt a lot?" and I remember clearly answering, "A little, um, not too painful."
It felt like the middle-aged doctor had been gone from my rectum for a long time. No one helped me off the examination table. As
my brain began to fog up from maintaining the high-raised position for so long, a new round of
examinations began!
Good heavens, it was that young student! This time, his fingers were much thinner but much longer, groping
and inserting into the valve at the end of my rectum. He was a tall, handsome young boy.
The other boy was quite muscular, with very thick fingers, because all four of his fingers had once been
inserted into and pried open my anus.
I don't know the reason why, in a professional hospital, without any cover,
vulnerable young girls with their naked, provocative buttocks raised high are repeatedly observed and humiliated, used repeatedly as
training material to train young students.
And I was that willing guinea pig, wearing a red
thong, .
During that afternoon, this sexy guinea pig's soft buttocks were deeply penetrated and pried open
five times. I don't know why it was five times, but each time the buttocks were pinched and forcefully pried open, with fingers drilling
deep inside, all the way in.
Twice, even four fingers were used, two fingers from each hand, one by one, to
practice dilating the anus, massaging it while forcefully prying it open. Later, I found out online that this is the standard preparation procedure for anal surgery
.
I don't know how much my anus was ultimately dilated, but it wasn't painful. Although it hurt, it wasn't a
tearing wound. I knew they were professionals, performing specialized exercises on my buttocks. I cooperated well,
and I knew my orifice was very elastic, able to accommodate very thick objects and quickly return
to its tight, closed state—a good example for them.
As I left the hospital, I looked back at the white building bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun—"Guoyitang" (National Medical Hall).
I will remember this name.

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