craig-macklin-blog

[craig-macklin-blog]

Lyd Skidmore's Brothel For Unique Prostitutes Pt. 3

I walked past the Hart Sister’s fuck room. They are a fan favorite amongst the patrons of this brothel. Now, I may not have fucked them that exact night, but I have had three sessions with them. Let me tell you about my first time with them.

My first session with them was on the first day I visited Lyd’s Brothel. I was a shy, nervous man, only just a Sophmore in a nearby community college. My hands were shaking, and my forehead was oozing with sweat. I wasn’t sure on which escort to fuck.

Then, I saw the door to their room. It was an oak wood door that had a gold plaque on it that read: THE HART SISTERS. I looked at the bottom of the door, and saw a glimmer of light shine through the crack. That must mean that there’s an escort inside. I put my ear to the door, and didn’t hear any sex moaning. The Hart Sisters were not busy with a client at this time. I opened the door. The door made a loud, creaking sound, just like in horror films. My mouth begun to open wide. I was shocked at what I saw in the room.

“Hello there,” the sisters both said this at the same exact. I was beyond flustered. Now, don’t get me, the Hart Sisters are extremely beautiful. They are some fine girls with tannish skin and dark brown hair. I just wasn’t expecting them to be conjoined twins.

Yes, you read that right. Kelly Jo and Bethanne Hart are conjoined twins. They are highly symmetrical for conjoined twins, giving the appearance of a single body with two heads. Each twin has their own heart, stomach, spine, lungs, and spinal cord. However, they do share one kidney though, and this is what prevents them from getting separation surgery. The kidney cannot be split. If it so, then both sisters would die. In doctor terms, they are dicephalic parapagus twins.

They grew up in a backwoods town, known as Franksville, Georgia. (FUN FACT: Franksville is where they filmed the 1972 Burt Reynolds classic, Deliverance). They were raised by a mom and dad, who were also brother and sister. Growing up in Franksville has given them cute, southern accents, and a love for country music.

"What's the matter, sweet pea," said Kelly Jo. "C'mon! We don't bite." She was the twin who controlled the left side. Kelly Jo was wondering why I seemed nervous.

"Yeah, we may be conjoined twins, but were not freaks," said Bethanne. Bethanne controls the right side of their body.

I handed them my cash, and requested for some cowgirl. As we were undressing, I noticed another thing that was peculiar with the Hart Sisters. They had three breasts. They even wore a bra that was clearly designed for their three breasts. Where on earth can you even get a bra that has three cups on it? That has to be something that is homemade. I doubt you could find a bra like that in Macy's.

"You ready, tiger," said an ebullient Bethanne. I sure was damn ready. I slipped the rubber onto my cock, and was ready to fuck.

The Hart Sisters were riding me good. They moved their ass up and down, as if it were a part of one woman's body. Each sister was controlling the asscheek that was on their side, in accordance with the other. The sisters and I were moaning very loudly, as expected during good sex. The sisters leaned their torso a little bit towards my face. Their three breasts were hitting the tip of my aquiline nose.

"Can you spank our conjoined twin booty," said Bethanne.

"What," I asked.

"Can you spank our no good, naughty, bad, conjoined twin booty," said Kelly Jo. And by her request, I did. I spanked their ass until it was redder than an apple. We continued on fucking each other. Next thing you know, the sisters and I came at the same time. I got up and put my cum-soaked Trojan in a nearby trash can.

"What was it like having your first orgy, cowboy," quipped Kelly Jo. Both of the sisters giggled.

"You know what. You wanna know who the real freaks are. Those who are normal and aren't very different. Those who don't wanna step outside of their comfort zone. Those who confirm to what everything society believes, even if isn't right. Those are the real freaks. You girls are just beautiful the way you are," I said. The sisters nodded their heads to my brief lecture, but then went on to discuss nails with each other. To be honest, I would've done the same. There are times when I give out random pep talks, and they can kinda come out as weird.

However, on the night, the same night I was in for my two previous diary entries. The Hart Sister's room was vacant. Shame, they were a favorite of mine, and many other patrons in this brothel. I guess they had better things to do, such as family vacations.

But here's what's special about the night I am currently mentioning. What stands out about this night that separates them from the other times I've been in this brothel. Picture this, you see a guy like me, walking around fuck rooms for a quick fuck. Then, all of a sudden this guy sees the one. His future gf, his future S.O, his future wife. That's what happened to me. We actually didn't start dating until a year late, but you can kinda get the picture.

This is how I met my wife, Britney. And later on, find out about Britney Jr. I would write about it, but that's another story for another day.

FIN

[craig-macklin-blog]

Lyd Skidmore's Brothel For Unique Prostitutes Pt. 2

I looked around the brothel. People were drinking and smoking, all around having a good time. You could tell by the looks on their faces. Not only is this place a brothel, but it also has a bar area in it. The bar is the first area you visit, once you walk through the brothel’s doors and STD scanners. Near the bar, is a stage where bands or musicians usually play.

On that night in particular, I remember a cover band playing there, and they were awful. The guitars and bass were way out of tune. It also didn’t help that the lead singer had Ian Curtis-like vocals, and tried to sing “Don’t Stop Believing.” I don’t recall what the band name was, but I honestly don’t care.

Thankfully, on that same weekend, Melissa Etheridge was set to perform. Melissa Etheridge has a concert in here quite often, in order to support her loving wife.

The next fuck room I walk by belongs to the Clothespin Man. Now, he is quite an interesting gentleman. The Clothespin Man is this South Indian man with a shaved head. He also has this very rubbery and elastic skin, which he can stretch real far. He may have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. All over his body, he has clipped clothespins onto his skin. There are clothespins on his head skin, cheek skin, neck skin, arm skin, chest skin, leg skin, and there are two clothespins on his scrotum. These clothespins are somehow able to stay on his skin for days. Also, he is always naked. Throughout my entire history in Lyd’s Brothel, I’ve never seen him wear, at least one article of clothing. He lets his naked body dangle loose.

No one knows who he is, where he came from, or even what his real name is. The Clothespin Man is a mysterious figure within this brothel. He also doesn’t talk either. He’d rather get a message across by writing it in a journal. No one knows why he refuses to talk.

Rumor has it, that he is a cenobite from the Labyrinth. And to be honest, I kinda believe that to be true. He’s known for extreme BDSM sessions that would have Marquis Du Sade puke.

I once tried a session with The Clothespin Man, and boy, was it an experience. Knowing what I knew before and what other customers have said, I just asked him for a simple blowjob. But even a simple blowjob from him is extreme.

First, he had my naked body suspended by hooks. Cold, steel hooks went through the flesh of my legs and back. It doesn’t hurt as much as you would think. The suspension overall was an interresting time, because it felt like I was floating midair.

But then came the actual blowjob part. The Clothespin Man went near my dick and started to suck it. At first, he was sucking my rock hard cock in a nice, smooth fashion. Eventually, he started biting it. And boy, did it hurt. His canine teeth were long and sharp. “Oohs” and “aahs” escaped my mouth, as I was dealing with the pain. Clothespin Man bit so hard that my cock was starting to bleed. I enjoyed some pain in my sex once in a while, but this was more painful than I’m used to. I kinda liked it.

After a long period of time, I came in his mouth. Clothespin Man was swishing the semen around in his mouth, as if it were finely aged wine. He’s definitely a swallower, not a spitter. He let me off the hooks, and I paid him. It may not have been my most pleasant experience with an escort, but it was still fun.

As I walked out of the Clothespin Man’s fuck room, he wrote something in his journal and showed it me. It read: “your bodily fluids taste sweeter than most people's bodily fluids.” I gave him a nervous hand wave, telling him goodbye. Yeah, that was an awkward time. I started to look around for more fuck rooms.

To be continued..

[craig-macklin-blog]

Lyd Skidmore's Brothel For Unique Prostitutes

There was this brothel that I used to go to all the time. It was called Lyd Skidmore’s Brothel For Unique Prostitutes. It is the place to be when you are horny in Michigan. It’s doors are still open to this day. It’s been open ever since the United States made prostitution legal.

Right when I walked through those doors, I was always greeted by body scanners. They’re like the body scanners you have in the airports, but a little different. The body scanners check to see if patrons have an STD in their system. If they are STD free, they can proceed. If not, by law, they are kicked out. Thankfully, I’ve been STD free every time.

“*cough cough* Hey Craig,” a voice cried out. I turned around, and saw Lyd Skidmore, happy to see me again.

Lyd (short for Lydia) Skidmore is the owner of this brothel. I used to be a regular customer, so we have talked a lot back then. We often talked about the weather or politics. Now, just to clarify, Lyd doesn’t do any of the prostituting. She just runs the place, and gives each worker their fair share.

Skidmore is such a nice person. It’s a shame that she has such a tragic backstory. Back in the 80’s, she was a beautiful woman trying to become a Hollywood actress. She moved to California, got a rhinoplasty, and started a rigorous exercise routine. All of this to be on the big screen. Her fate changed on September 26th, 1983.

Ever since that day of infamy, she’s been plagued by a chronic illness. Her skin went from porcelain white to a gray/purplish tint. Pus-filled boils cover her entire body. Snot constantly runs down her nose. Lyd also coughs a lot because of that damn incident. But don’t feel too bad for her though. Lyd Skidmore has a long and successful marriage with singer Melissa Etheridge. Melissa Etheridge saw past her looks, and fell in love with her personality. She’s also ain’t afraid to hug Lyd in public, even if it means getting snot and pus on her clothes. Lyd was the beast to her beauty.

“What fuck room *cough cough* are you gonna pick today?” Said Lyd.

“I’m not sure. I think I’ll look around,” I replied back.

“Okay! Just don’t forget to *cough cough* pay,” Lyd said. She said this while wiping her nose with her left arm.

“I won’t,” I yelled back.

This brothel is made out of many fuck rooms. A fuck room is a room with a legal sex worker in it. In that room, you’re expected to pay and fuck that legal sex worker.

The first fuck room I walk by is Margot Hashkin’s, the world’s fattest prostitute. Yes, Guinness actually weighed her, and she became known as the world’s fattest prostitute. They tore open a hole through these walls, and lifted her up by helicopter. Only to take her to a nearby scale that could actually weigh her. She beat the previous record holder, Australia’s Yolanda Newman, by 21 lbs.

In this fuck room, her gargantuan body lays in bed all day. She never leaves her room because she is bed bound. Despite of all this, Margot Hashkin is insanely beautiful. Her face is a marvel to look at. No wonder why she won the National Miss Morbidly Obese contest three times.

Her blonde hair is radient. Her double chin and massive cankles are soaked in ellegence. Her blobby flesh is soft and smooth. Lyd has the janitors clean her up on a daily basis, to prevent bed sores and dry skin.

I fucked her a couple of times, and the experience is alright. It’s like penetrating a waterbed. Those of us who have penetrated a waterbed, you know what I’m talking about, right?

Also, if you choose to fuck Margot, don’t mispronounce her name. She gets agitated when people get her name wrong. It’s pronounced “MAR-GOT,” not “MAR-GO.”

I walk past Margot’s room. I’m gonna see what other fuck rooms are available.

To be continued…..