My Massage
from Robin's File & Story Archives
"My Massage"
"The Hotel Anthology" by Robin Roberts
It was about four o'clock and I had finished with all of my appointments for the day, so I drove back to my room at The Hotel. I had been here almost a week and was still in awe at the courtesy and politeness of everyone on the Staff.
I picked up the phone to have a bottle of wine delivered when I noticed that number for Room Service (#77) was only one digit away from Personal Services (#76). Odd, by I hadn't really given "Personal Services" as a title much thought until now. With no small amount of curiosity, I picked up the phone and punched up the number for Personal Services. After only one full ring, a very melodious female voice answered with,"Personal Services, this is Helen. How may I direct your call?" Now I was stuck.
"Helen, this is Room 124. I noticed that your number was listed on the front of my phone, but I have no idea what kind of 'personal services' you offer or render."
"Well, Sir, we are here to provide any service you desire, no matter how big or small, any time day or night. Your wish is, quite literally, my command. There are no limitations placed upon your requests, other than the availabilty of Staff personnel to carry out your desires. We are very discreet, and no one will ever know what you have requested. We want to make sure that your stay with us is everything you may have dreamed it would be."
Now I was REALLY stuck. "Ummm, if I were to ask for something a little out of the ordinary, you could fulfill it?"
"Yes, Sir. There is nothing you could ask for that would shock me. There is no wish that would not be granted given enough time and resources for us to put it together," was the immediate answer from the hand-set.
My mind went blank, and my mouth and tongue simply quit functioning: I was speechless. Her voice woke me from my sumnambulistic trance, and after a moment of mental babbling and total brain shutdown, I muttered, "I would like a massage."
Helen asked if I had any preferences and I said no: I was almost afraid to make specific requests. Helen said I would have someone at my door in moments. She was right about that. It seemed as though the person outside my door had been listening in to my conversation with Helen, and was just waiting for me to hang up the phone so she could ring the doorbell to my suite. (In hind-sight, that probably is wrong. My body just wasn't functioning, so I hadn't noticed the passage of time!) The female who was on the other side of the door was wearing what looked like leotards, a short skirt, heels and a collar. Attached to the collar was a pendant embossed with "Jillian 4". She was attractive: just the right amount of make-up, brown hair pulled back off her face, and I would guess her age to be low-twenties. She was carrying a portable massage table and an overnight bag. Jillian stepped past me and into my room, and with a very deft movement, opened the table, placed a sheet on top of it and patted the top of it, indicating that I was to lay on top of it. When I made no movement, she came to attention, looked at me and asked if I preferred a "straight, dominant or submissive massage".
I told her that I was dominant, but that I didn't know the difference between the three as types of massage. She replied that since I didn't know the difference, she would start with a straight massage, but at any time I desired, it would be okay to change. Not wanting to get myself in over my head (and not wanting to look like a complete fool) I told Jillian 4 that I was interested in a straight massage.
She had me lay on a massage table, face down and she began her magic-fingers routine. During the 60-minute massage, we discussed just about everything. She told me about her "escapades" as a submissive masseuse. Her clients would have her start a massage, and then have her bound and gagged by the end of the hour. I asked her what she enjoyed most when giving a "submissive massage". She must have spent twenty minutes describing how one of her clients had blindfolded and gagged her; placed her ankles in hobble-cuffs and had tied a rope around her neck as a leash. Since she was sightless, he guided her hands and her body for about the first half-hour. He then tied her wrists together behind her back, removed the gag, and had her lick all the massage oil from every part of his body and then use her long hair to dry his body. I thought that this was an excellent idea, and that I would have to try it personally. She said that she would like to do the same, but it would have to be another time: our hour was up.
I decided that Jillian 4 and I would have to get together as soon as possible.
I called "Personal Services" and booked two hours with Jillian 4 for day after tomorrow. That would be more than enough time for me to get to a hardware store for some "goodies" before our next meeting.
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