Sky High Red Eye.

 

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On a recent trip to Bangkok I knew that I had let the maintenance of the hairgrowth deteriorate a little and was fully aware that I was in desperate need of a bikini wax.

Never fear, Bangkok is the home of salons, massages and beauty parlours.  Surely there would be no propblem finding somewhere close to where I was saying that could wax away the unwanted hair!!

So after landing into the hotel I went for a walk to find somewhere close by that would meet my needs.  I walked into a beautiful looking salon, where behind the counter sat a lovely friendly thai lady who greated me warmly and asked me what I was there for.

All the ladies who worked in the salon were lovely, small, slim and friendly except for one who looked like a cross between a meatpacker and sumo wrestler. Well, I wasnt shocked with my luck when I found out that this would be the lady that I would be entrusting my private area with! Just my luck!

In the ten years of my waxed experience I have never endured such pain whilst being waxed before. With my eyes watering, fingernails firmly embedded in the bed around me whilst my knuckles turned white and the tears rolled down my cheeks, I screamed that I had never felt so much pain when having this done to the pain thrilling monster. The beast between my thighs froze, turned to the small torture table beside her, selected an instrument from what looked like a surgeons tray of toys and returned between my legs.

Plucking a single hair she held it tweesed an inch away from my eyes and told me “You let it grow long, this is why it is so pain”

For 20minutes I endured the pain and what could only be described as the closest experience so having my skin torn off before the magician of torture finally declared that she had finished.

Returning to the hotel I was under a wave of releif that the pain had ceased and carried on enjoying the few days that I had left in Bangkok.

However as time wore on I realised that the Punisher had indeed removed a layer of skin from my “area” during our torture session.

The next day whilst dressing in my uniform I found it unbearable to wear any undergarments on my red rore skin and therefore decided to wear only stockings with no underwear beneath my work skirt on board the aircraft.

Grateful for the releif that my state of commando had given me I carried on working hard and enjoying my flight talking and serving the passengers until they all started to fall asleep.

Whilst walking through the dark aisle on board the air craft, my foot became lodged under a childs stuffed toy that had somehow found its way into the aisle as the child fell asleep and entered the world of slumber.

My whole body lurched forward, I spread out my arms automatically, falling face forward and impacting the floor. Unfortunately my legs behind me decided that they would go their seperate ways. Whilst one went left and one went right, my skin stripped and raw pride was fully displayed to those passengers that had been awoken my by scream that I had not been able to hold within whilst falling to the floor.

The three (male) colleagues that rushed to my aid in order to pick me and my embarassment up from the aisle floor did not mention what they had seen.

In fact….. the did not look my in the eye for the rest of the longest flight of my life.

Oh well…………

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