Bad Touch

I work at a college where they teach massage therapy. One of the perks is free massages from the exiting students.

I have capitalized on this one perk many times. It's hard for me to not like a massage. Someone lightly dragging their fingers down my arm makes me purr. Most of the massages I have gotten have been from average, to good, with one that was absolutely excellent.

The one I got recently was something I have never experienced before. I'm not sure what the hell was going on...

I arrived to find a sunny looking woman who could have been a Norweign farm hand from the early 20th century named Dagmar. She looked like she could break me - but had such a bubbly personality - I felt at ease with her.

Dagmar and I were pretty much alone. It was late, the school was closed, only a few staff left and I was her last massage of the day. However, I was a little off put by the curtain not being fully closed. I'm not a "never-nude" but I'm just not a huge fan of nudity. Let me rephrase that, mostly I'm not a fan of my nudity. I quickly stripped down to undies - sometimes I go totally buff, but mostly I keep the panties on just incase someone gets a little crazy with the sheet.

The nudity fairy must have been looking out for me that day because I sure did need them.

I started face down. She dove right in to the backwork. I will say this - she was adept at finding the knots in my body - I'm just not sure she needed to put her entire bodyweight into it. I am not a huge fan of deep tissue work. I wasn't sure if I should cry or ride the pain. So I rode the pain. To be fair, she finished off my back with some lighter work that helped.

She did one arm...then grabbed it - started stretching and pulling it. I've never had this done before. It was pleasent enough I could really feel the stretch. I was unsure - was this some sort of new stretch massage?

Then she moved to my legs. She had no problem digging into the glutes - which was kinda nice. She was doing ok with the sheet work and I wasn't feeling totally compromised.

Then someone came in the room - I'm not sure who it was as I had my face firmly planted in the face doughnut - but I was feeling a little exposed. It went down hill from there. Not all the Enya music in the world was going to relax me now.

She then grabbed my leg and started stretching it. Winging it out to the side and stretching it well past my level of flexibility. Again - thank you nudity fairy because i'm pretty positive there would have been some exposed chocha on that manuever had I not opted for the panty solution. She then did the same to the other side.

Hello! I'm a fatty mcfat pants - and as such, I assumed it was common knowledge that we Fatpants people are not that bendy. You pushing harder is not going to stretch me out like a t-shirt, my leg has stopped extending because it goes no further. Trust me on this one. All relaxation has released from my body in an odd groan that sounded like a dying giraffe - this truly sucked.

She began flopping my legs around, later she would flop my arms around - I'm not sure if this was a massage or some weird demonstration of how bread dough might feel. I was waiting for her to whip out the Pilates tethers, to hoist me up like some grotesque human marionette. Was she practicing the new art of Arobomassage? Forced jumping jacks are not my idea of being able to de-stress and relax.

Rolled now on to my back with my eyes closed I was faintly aware of a flickering light...flashing...flashing...either the police were here to save me, a florcent light somewhere was dying, or the pain in my body was firing up my spinal cord and surging in my optic nerve - my body seemed to be blinking a warning of "I'll get you back someday for this". I think it's storing up a stroke for me.

Again with the floppy leg routine. Swinging my legs in wide circles she now hoisted one above my head and began to lean on it. I've seen runners do this - but again - I'm not that bendy. The sheet was now just a mere impediment to her ghoulish schemes for my body. Had I been au natural I'm pretty sure an ob/gyn could have saddled in there and gotten a swab...

And so help me, my body was trying to revolt against me again. My butt was readying for me to fire off on her. I was going to let fly in an unholy wind assult if she didn't ease up on that stretch. Not that I wanted to mind you - but sometimes the body has a will of its own. She released my leg - and the gas eased away. I'm sure JFK felt the same kind of relief after the Cuban Missle crisis had been averted.

The other leg was now hoisted above my head. Sweet Jesus woman - do you want this? Do you want me to totally tear ass on you - because if that's what you're shooting for - you just may get your wish!

She worked my neck and gave me some more flappy arm treatments I could hear her mumbling to herself. I wasn't sure if she was commenting on my failure to impersonate Gumby, reassuring herself that her time with me was almost done, or sounding out all the advice in massage class she was ignoring while working on me.

She finished up by yanking on my jaw - I seriously didn't know it was possible to strain the muscle in your jaw - I mean I'm sure the average hooker might get a little jaw strain, but it is something I've never felt before. Then there was an odd scalp massage. It was part massage, part petting of my hair. Was Dagmar now coming on to me? Was this some sort of weird lesbian indoctrination ceremony?! What was going on?

With a fistful of my hair in her hand she pulled it stretching my neck. Ahh so she was the BDSM Lesbian variety.

And then it was done. Shakily I hoisted my bruised body off the table and dressed.

First lesson - she did get the knot in my right shoulder out. Second - haha I get to fill out a comment survey. Third and finally - you get what you pay for.

Free Massage - or some weird demonstration of how an alien autopsy might be performed...you make the call!