Little Tales for Masturbation.  #2: The Masseur

Bill Siebert was nearly jumping out of his skin.

He had just closed the Park account, and the cords in his neck
were like reinforced steel.  He was grinding his teeth at night,
when he could sleep.

Exercise helped a little, he'd go to the Athletic club and play
squash, but it just covered one ache with another.  He had always
been athletic in college, but, a CEO at 52, he could afford to go
to the best club in the city and he did.  And his body hurt.

When one of the desk attendants saw him holding his neck and
shoulder and grimacing they recommended Tom.

"Everybody here goes to him.  He's expensive, but they say he
works miracles." 

"Perfect.  I need a miracle.  Schedule me an appointment." 
Tom Rasmussen came into the Athletic Club about half an hour
after he had been paged.  As they said about him, he was
expensive, but you got extra for your money.  Real full service. 
Tom was also a very handsome young man, but that was wasted on
Bill, who had just divorced his wife (too much work doesn't do
anything for a marriage) and was busy negotiating visitation for
his two kids.  Bill's patrician good looks weren't wasted on Tom,
though.  He smelled the two things that he loved so, power and
money.  Bill was a definite candidate for the full treatment
massage.

He led Bill into the small, room room with the massage table, and
turned on a CD with ambient music.  "Take off your clothing, I'll
put a sheet over you.  Just lie down and relax."  Tom smiled
warmly.

Tom was a very good masseur, and though he could have done deep
tissue work on Bill's neck, he chose not to, because he didn't
think any painful work would suit his purposes.  He just wanted
Bill to feel comfortably somnolent.  As the session went on, Tom
could feel Bill's body grow more and more passive to his touch,
allowing himself to be manipulated.  It was just the right time. 
Tom started to take broad, light strokes up and down Bill's back. 
 
"Breeeeeathe.  In and out.  Deep cleansing breaths.  That's it. 
I want you to relax Bill.  That feel good?"

Bill nodded, totally out of it.  "Keep breathing, Bill.  In and
out.  Deep breaths.  Relax.  Deeper relaxation. Feels so good."

"Mmph."  Bill mumbled and drooled, content like a baby.

"OK, Bill, I want you to count backwards for me, from 20 to 1. 
Can you do that for me?" 
"20...19..."

"You're so comfortable that every breath you take makes it harder
to remember the numbers." 
"18..."

"They become harder to remember, more confused."

"16..."  Bill stopped counting.  Paydirt.

"And now you're even more relaxed and comfortable Bill.  Would
you like to be even more relaxed?"

"Uh huh..."  Bill mumbled.  He felt better than he had felt in
days, and didn't notice Tom's hard on. 

Tom took close to half an hour bringing Bill into as deep a
trance as he could manage, and Bill was the sort who could go
very deep indeed.  A few awakenings and reinductions also showed
that he had amnesia, which was the best of all.  Now came the
next step. 

"This feels great, doesn't it, Bill?"

"Yeah..."

"You want it to last longer don't you."

"Yeah..."

"If you hire me as your personal trainer, it can last as long as
you want, Bill.  You want me to be your personal trainer, Bill. 
When we are done with your massage you will ask me about it, and
we will work out a deal."

"Yes."

"I'm expensive, Bill, but I'm worth it."

"Expensive, but you're worth it."

"Excellent, Bill.  You're doing great.  As your new trainer, I'll
need to ask you a few questions, Bill, about your background, and
I want you to answer them to the best of your ability." 

"OK."

And Tom asked him his full name and address, age and other
harmless questions, and his marital status (which he liked.  A
few more sessions and there'd be no new girlfriends for a while.) 
He then went on to his financial situation, his net worth, assets
and liabilities, who managed them and where they were located. 
Bill wouldn't care how much he was paying Tom, but Tom knew that
at that level of wealth, other people were watching the kitty. 
He didn't want someone else to be asking about steady drains on
accounts.  About $1000 weekly could be hidden, he thought, but as
Bill understood more and more, Tom was expensive, but worth it. 
He was really starting to like the kid.

"You want to help me, Bill.  I remind you of yourself at a young
age, don't I?" 

"Now that you mention it...." Bill said groggily.

"Of course I do.  But you're much better dressed."

"Well, I have to be.  I don't really like the suit and tie
stuff." 

"No Bill, you really do.  You look so good in it.  So powerful. 
It's what makes you strong." 

"Makes...me...strong."

"That's right Bill.  You really like looking good.  It's worth
the trouble.  I want to look good, too, Bill."

"You do?"

"Yes Bill.  I do.  But I can't.  I need your help."

"You do?"

"Sure, Bill, will you help me?"

"Sure, Tom.  I'd love to help..."  Bill really liked the kid more
and more.  By the time he woke up, he really had a soft spot for
him.

"I could use some new suits.  And a good watch.  A real one." 
"No problem Kid.  I know a good wholesaler."

"But they have to be good suits."

"Only the best for you kid.  Great suits, a new watch..."  Bill's
eyes were closed, and he smiled as he was being programmed to be
a very generous sugar daddy for this handsome young man. 

"A Rolex?"

"Anything for you, Kid."

By the end of the massage Bill was a new man.

Written 2-10-97  [Author's note - No, I don't want people to buy
me clothing.  I have enough, and I can't stand wearing watches. 
It was inspired by a conversation I had with someone else.] 

(c) 1997 markjo342@aol.com All rights reserved.