“the beginning”


I usually find myself thinking about sex.  While I’m in the act my animal instinct runs wild, but after on my drive home from a session, I think about why I do what I do.

Massage Ethics and Sex

“Massage and prostitution have been mixed up throughout much of history and some clients still get confused. If a client makes an inappropriate remark or asks for ‘extras’ with the massage, it is possible to politely tell them that this is not that kind of massage, or ‘I can not do that.’ Do not—under any circumstances—accept one of these offers! Once you cross that line, you are almost certain to be breaking the law and also compromising your professional integrity. It is also important to avoid making accidental inappropriate contact, especially if the client is new or not at ease with you. In the course of a normal massage, client, therapist or both may find the experience a little bit arousing. This can be pretty embarrassing, especially for male clients, undressed on a table. Whatever the case, embarrassment can be avoided by simply not making a big deal of it. Even if you are giving a massage to the sexiest client in the world, having a care about your words and actions can keep the experience positive and pleasant for you both.”

This is what’s written in the manual. I got my RMT license 3 years ago from a well-known massage school in Toronto.  It was a very intense course, but did it teach me how to give a massage? No.  Each massage therapist is different.  We each incorporate what we feel works in our massage practice.  A different hand a different experience.  What massage school taught me was how to know the body, and what to do with it. I’ve always had a love for the human body, the soft skin of a woman, her breasts, her scent.  The hard muscle of a man, his legs, his ass, a nice cock.  The human body is fascinating, it is made in the exact same way for everybody and yet we are all so different.

I had this one male teacher at the school. He wasn’t that tall, maybe 5’9, early 40‘s, blond, thin, a twink. In case you don’t know what a twink is, Wikipedia says,

“Twink or twinkie is a gay slang term describing a young or young-looking gay man with a slender build, little or no body hair, and no facial hair.”

Anyway, this twink was a fucking bitch. He would walk- well, prance around the school with his man purse, hugging and kissing all the girls. That alone should tell you the type of person he was. Not that I stereotype, I have a very straight (so he says!) married friend who has a man purse. His wife thinks he looks hot in it, that’s all that matters.  I can write a book about my hate for man purses and how so fucking gay they are… Moving on to Mr. Twinks, I disliked him.

The exam consists of a written exam and a practical.  Well, lo-and-behold who do I have on my massage table for the practical, Mr. Twinks.  It was a hot and humid day in June and the air conditioning wasn’t working so you can image how bitchy Mr. Twinks was that day. Getting back to the practicum, the body must be covered at all times, this is a very strict rule in Canada. As the massage begins you uncover only the part that you are massaging, so if a leg is to be massaged, you pull out the leg and make sure to tuck the sheet under the leg and groin, to make sure the client is comfortable and doesn’t feel exposed.

The massage began and I did everything as I was taught.  Slowly I worked his legs and feet. I ran my hand up his thigh and around his glutes.  “The sheet is to tight”, he screams out.  So I loosen the already loose sheet and continue. “Just pull it off,” he says, “it’s too hot”.  I stood still for a moment and wasn’t sure what to do. Well, I think that irritated him even more because, with a bitchy pull of the sheet, his white ass was in my face. I continued to massage him, finishing one leg and moving on to the next.  I could see that ever so slowly he spread his legs apart.  I continued massaging and worked my way up to his lower back.  I stood beside him, his hands were to his side and very close to my crotch. As I continued massaging I feel his hand cup my balls.  I stop.  Now in my head, I don’t know what is happening.  I mean I know he’s holding my balls but is he doing it to test me and see what I would do if this situation presents itself, or is he holding my balls?  Well like the manual I politely tell him that this is not that type of massage. He turns toward me and laughs.  “You wanna pass your exam?” I can’t believe that this little bitch was using his power to take advantage of the situation. Do I want to pass that exam? I’m a fucking good massage therapist, I know my shit!  This little fucking cunt pissed me off.  Then I don’t know what came over me, I slapped his ass, hard. I left a welt on it and he loved it. I then grabbed his legs and spread them apart. I spit on his asshole and shoved my dick in his ass. It felt like I was having an outer body experience.  I stood there watching myself fuck the shit out of his asshole. I fucked and fucked and kept fucking him. I pulled his blond hair as I was doing it. He loved it.  I wasn’t happy with that, I wanted to kill him.  Have you ever had a mad fuck? You have sex and while you’re doing it you get more and more mad and you don’t care about the person you’re inside. You just keep slamming harder and harder. I fucked him for prancing, I fucked him for his man purse, I fucked him for everything he stood for, which was nothing.  And as I was doing so, I realized I like it.  I liked to fuck, to go at it and not feel a thing.

He screams and whimpered, I hit him, I slapped the back of his head and he laughed.  I grabbed the back of his neck and pinned him down to the ground.  His face was sideways half crushed into the massage bed and the other half looking at me.  He smiled. I spit in his face and he loved it.

Well that my friends is how I became a Registered Massage Therapist. A RMT working in Toronto and loving it.  My clients range from 60-year- old married, divorced and re-married Jewish lawyers’ to 20-year-old dirty horny boys with big imaginations. It’s time these stories came out.

It’s time to know what that dirty little whore in front of you, wearing those lulu-lemons in downward dog did last night, with his massage therapist.

3 thoughts on ““the beginning”

  1. OMG this had me… I don’t know, wondering if it’s a true story or not but dang it was good. I’m a massage therapist, too, and boy, the stories we can tell! I just put them into my fiction though. But holy hell…

    Liked by 1 person

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