The alley looked dark and menacing. I must press on, I thought. I hadn’t come this far and invested so much time just to give up now. I looked again at the address I had been given. Could someone have made a mistake? I’d heard of parties in bad neighborhoods, but this was ridiculous.

I almost reached the end of the alley when a door opened and a couple stumbled out. They seemed to be more than inebriated. One of the guys relied completely on his friend to walk. I approached them to ask if this was the right place, but between the two of them they made no sense. I ignored them and they stumbled on. I walked up to the door and took a look at the address plate on the wall. The name Dulce Dolor was scratched on a rusty address plate. Next to that were some numbers that were too faint to read. This had to be it, I thought to myself.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the metal door. Several minutes went by before someone opened the door. I stepped back as a large hairy man stepped out.

“Hola,” I said hesitantly.

It was one thing to be nervous but it was quite another to be nervous while trying to speak a foreign language. The burly man looked at me like I was scum. I must have stuck out from the rest of the people inside.

“Let me guess, you American,” he said in a heavy Spanish accent.

“Si,” I said. “I mean, yes. I’m looking for Dulce Dolor.”

“Of course you are, you and every gringo that comes here.” He let out a roar of a laugh and stepped aside. “Follow,” he said and led the way down a long dark corridor. I followed close behind as we passed several metal doors. You could hear the people screaming either from pain or pleasure- hopefully pleasure, I wasn’t quite sure. The deeper we went the harder my heart beat.

At the end of the corridor another stocky man in leather stood behind a small counter. Behind him rows of hooks hung, some with keys but most were empty. This was definitely a popular spot, I thought.

“Oye, aqui te traigo otro gringo,” he said to the man behind the counter. “El numero dos esta libre?”

“No ahi esta una puta con su marido,” they both laughed. I had no idea what they were saying to each other. Could they be laughing at me? I wondered “Ponlo en la diez,” he said handing him a set of keys.

My guide took the keys and led me down another long hallway. The corridor was dimly lit but he knew exactly where to go. We got to the very end of the hallway where he unlocked one of the metal doors. He entered first. The room was faintly lit by a couple of bare bulbs on the ceiling. In the middle of the room, propped up on a table sat what I traveled so far for. Dulce Dolor and what a beauty she was.

“This is it chico,” he said pointing to the machine. “You come alone?” he asked.

I nodded my head yes in response. I just couldn’t take my eyes off it. I stepped up to it and rubbed the giant dildo that was attached to the end.

He laughed, “Well you’re gonna need someone to carry you out of here when it’s done.”

“I’ll be alright,” I