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About Saitama

So, check it—sexual-massage ain’t just some sleazy backroom deal. Nah, it’s ancient, fam! Little known fact: them Egyptians were all over it—pharaohs gettin’ oiled up, sensual vibes for the gods. Makes me smirk—imagine Tutankhamun moanin’, “Harder, slave!” History’s wild, innit? I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my Asgardian mead, thinkin’—mortals got no clue how deep this goes. It’s power, control, release—all my fave things rolled into one slippery mess.

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Slut and Whore. These two words have been used for millennia to shame women from all walks of life. They have often been used to justify all manner of ill.

After that, I’m on a roll. I’m calling bids like a madman. “Fifty bucks! Sixty! Seventy! Who’s got eighty?” I’m practically dancing up there. But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Taro. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta see this!” I’m thinking, “Taro, I’m kinda busy here!” But curiosity gets the best of me. I sneak a peek. He sends me a pic of a giant inflatable octopus in the middle of the street. I’m like, “What the heck, Ami?!”

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