Thursday, July 10, 2008

CJ Comes Over to the Dark Side - Part 3 - My First and Last Day as an Erotic Masseuse

I think you guys have been wondering why I’ve taken so long to talk about my introduction to erotic massage. I’ve been stalling on purpose since it wasn’t a particularly happy memory for me.

Anyways, to continue the story… This was my 2nd customer of the day, and how could things get any worse? I led this 300 pound trucker guy into a room and tell him to get comfortable. I go back to the front and ask Candy for any last minute tips, and she tells me not to be nervous, to just act totally business like and everything should be fine.

I go back in the room and dim the lights. This guy has stripped down to his underwear and is sitting up on the massage table. I’ve massaged women this size before, but never a man! I’m just wondering how I’m going to get through all that body hair. I try not to act nervous and just go through the script that Dawn had me rehearse, “Hi, my name is CJ. Our options are topless for $40, $60 for G-string and $100 for fully nude.”

Almost too quickly he replies, “I want you naked.”

Okaaaaaaaay… that was a little bit creepy the way he said “naked.” He doesn’t say anything else as I quickly take my clothes off. I remember what Dawn said about us not being strippers, and that it’s perfectly OK just to ditch the clothes without acting it up. I had to borrow a G-string from Candy (just in case this guy wanted that option) so in a way I was kinda glad I didn’t need it. But right then I started to feel really self conscious about the way he was just staring at me.

Oh shit! I almost forgot about the money! Rule #5 – always get cash up front. “Oh I almost forgot mister. That’ll be $100.”

He just keeps staring at me, and now he answers way too slowly. “I only pay $60.”

Now I’m getting nervous and a bit irritated. Rule #3 – options are non-negotiable. “Uh… I’m sorry mister, but I can only do a G-string for $60.” Rules are rules, and in a small way I feel like I can wield them like a shield of some kind. Hey – it’s all I had while I was standing naked in front of a 300 pound man. “You gotta pay $100 for the nude option.”

He gets up off the table. “For $100 I wanna blowjob.” Standing I can see he’s easily a foot and half taller than me. “I always get a blowjob” he repeats, but now he’s saying it like a threat. These rooms are about 10 x 12, so with him standing up he’s already within arms reach. Without realizing it, I backed up against the wall. I looked at the door just long enough for him to notice. “You fucking bitch. Where do you think you’re going?”

That was it for me. I completely forgot I was naked, but remembered everything I had learned in that rough neighborhood I grew up in. In 2 seconds I had slipped past him and was out that door. Fully naked, I made a dash straight to the bathroom while screaming “CANDY! CANDY!”

I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t think my escape plan through. I’m in an unfamiliar place surrounded by strangers, so I jumped in the 1 room I knew I could lock. And my purse and phone were in the office! Of course I didn’t realize any of this until that door was locked behind me.

From outside I can hear “Fuck you!” and “Fuck this!” and “Fuck that!” mixed in with other bits of yelling. Now I gotta hand it to strippers – they sure know how to manhandle a guy. I don’t know if Candy was packing or knew Kung Fu or whatever, but eventually the yelling stopped and she came and got me outta that bathroom.

But by then I was a hysterical wreck… so I hesitantly went back in that room to throw my clothes back on, grabbed my phone and purse, mumbled an apology to Candy, and ran for my car. All I remember about the ride home was that I drove way too fast, while my phone kept ringing and ringing. I went straight to my mom’s house and stayed there for a couple days.

I quit the Spa job and just sort of bummed around for a couple weeks. Neither the boyfriend nor mom seemed to care. Dee and Dawn called a bunch of times those first few days, but eventually stopped. I talked to Rita and she said that the trucker guy had been banned from the business. Apparently he had called up a few times threatening me and even threatened to call the police. I wasn’t the first person he had harassed, but I was the first that the owners had heard about up till then.

Two weeks went by before I finally got the nerve to call them back. I had no intention of returning, just wanted to explain myself in person instead of through Rita. One thing led to another and before I hung up I had agreed to give them another try. I don’t know what I was thinking when you consider everything that had happened 2 weeks before over the space of 2 hours. Maybe it was the empty checking account or the fact that my mom and boyfriend were getting on my nerves with me being home all the time. Oh well.

So there I was the next day, ready for the beginning of my very first shift. The funny thing is that after all that drama before, the idea of the Happy Ending wasn’t the biggest thing worrying me – it was wearing a G-string. I hated those things (still do) and was only hoping no one would want that as an option. I had purchased a bunch the night before - and they were sitting safely inside my purse.

Ironically, I really have no memory of my first “full” customer. I just remember him being a normal guy and a normal session. It was a topless option, so most of the stress was off me. As instructed, I kept my eye on the clock for the end of the session, then told him to lay back and relax. I had never given a handjob before using baby oil, so I over-lubed my right hand then gave him the speech, “If there is any remaining part of your body you would like massaged at this time, please indicate by placing my hand there.

Guess where he guided my hand? Duh.

And then I did what I had always done with the boyfriends – one hand firmly on the thigh, and the other one doing the good old-fashioned one-handed tug. Now I had rarely ever done a handjob to completion before, so I was actually surprised when he started to moan. Usually the boyfriends would just make me stop when they got hard – looking back I think those few times they came was by mistake!

So there I was tugging away. Well, I must have been doing something right because after a moment he started to moan louder. I asked if I was hurting him, and he gave me a big “Gawd No!” I kept tugging away and eventually he tensed up and gave out a load moan, then came all over his stomach. Up till that moment I had never really paid attention to a penis shooting cum before. As he lied there catching his breath, I remember thinking “Cool...”

And THAT my friends is how CJ gave her first Happy Ending. Not much has changed since then, except that I’ve gotten better at it. I still hate wearing G-strings (I keep 1 in my pocket at work – just in case). And I’m still fascinated with the male ejaculation (I think it’s a power-trip thing).

Oh – and I carry a taser.



mnwhr said...

Not having had the chance to read all the way back to the beginning of the blog, I take it there's no one on the premises to help out with security?

ez cheese said...

I feel like it might take a tad bit more than a tazer to stop a 300lb trucker. Not trying to be an ass, just saying. Getting tazed SUCKS, but some big boys can handle it. Not my skinny ass, though.

em Jay Peeee said...

Yikes! You're a brave gal to go back. Thanks for sharing, CJ!

Have you had to use the taser? I'm guessing no. (Weirdo clients who want to have their balls shocked don't count.)

Once you gave that first HJ, did it seem like "no big deal" to move on to breast release, thigh release, and the butt release?

PS I still don't understand the butt release.

cj said...

Hey guys,

In all the places I've worked at, there was no dedicated security guard. However, that doesn't mean that 1 or 2 of the girls weren't packing...

I've only used my tazer once, and that was on a Regular who was curious. He was about 225 pounds and it knocked him on his ass. It took him about a minute just to stand up again.

MJP - I think I'm going to have to dedicate a post on this just to clarify things for you guys.


Anonymous said...

My heart goes out to you about the 300 lb asshole. I am so glad you weren't hurt.

I am glad the first happen ending went well, well normal anyway. There is something neat to giving the guy a happy ending.

take care

Anonymous said...

Warning snarkiness follows:

Guys, it really isn't that confusing. Let me explain. You've probably discovered that by rubbing your penis and your hand (together) you can give yourself a reasonably happy ending. Some of us have probably explored this discovery to greater depths than others, but I'm guessing most of the male readership here is pretty familiar with the concept.

A handful (sorry, couldn't resist) of us have also discovered that you can achieve a similar result by rubbing your penis between a woman's breasts. From the general confusion, I'm guessing fewer of us have made that discovery than are familiar with the first one, but don't feel too bad. You've still got that hand.

O.k., stay with me now, your hands and a woman's breasts are not the only things in the universe that can rub up against your cock to achieve a similar result. For example, you might, if you are lucky, have the opportunity to rub your penis in the vicinity of a woman's ass cheeks. I'm not talking about actually inserting your penis into her, because, well, let's just say the odds of that aren't getting any better. But anyway, by rubbing your cock between her ass cheeks, repeatedly, some degree of happiness will likely result.

Does that clear it up?

O.k. I'll go back to playing nicely now. But remember what Scott Adams asked,

"If there are no stupid questions, what kind of questions do stupid people ask?"

Now, I'm running late for a date with my hand, so I'll see you all later.

cj said...

What Jack said!

em Jay peeee said...

Thanks, Jack. You really answered all the questions that I was not asking. Really eye-opening! I thought the only thing I could rub my pecker against was your mom's lips.

My query for CJ concerned the establishment and maintenance of boundaries when a hard cock, massage oil, and naked butt cheeks get together.

Anonymous said...

Actually, I have the same question about boundaries. That does seem like a slippery issue (ba-dum-bump).

And mom said she wishes you'd try a penis pump or a vitamin supplement or something for that LITTLE problem of yours. ;)

Anonymous said...

Truck drivers can be pretty crude. (although I'm sure you know this by now) A lot of them spend most of their time in their rigs with a minimum of human interaction. They also deal with lot lizards, who would offer something similar. But he should have known that a massage parlor would be a different ballgame. On top of that, he was cheap and trying to renegotiate.

I'll bet that you have never forgotten to get the money first since then, especially with new customers. Just to think what all of your future customers might have missed if that one asshole trucker had scared you from the business. I can see why you carry a taser now. The next time you get another asshole like that, I want to read the story about how you tased him a half dozen times and sent him off with his tail between his legs.

Some of the comments here were almost as funny at the original post.


cj said...

Boys Boys Boys! Can't we all just get along?

Very interesting questions you guys bring up and I promise to get to them.

The quick answer to your boundary question is that most guys respect the fact that I'm not full service. PLUS - it takes trust before I'll even offer any of the more exotic releases.

Money can't buy everything ya know.


Henrietta Hussy said...

very nice...
I just read the last 3 parts and they were awesome and super suspenseful!
I can't believe you went back after all that, and I can't believe how persistent they were for you to give it another try.
I guess that everyone's first day is rough.

Slutty McWhore said...

I can't believe that the prices are so low! $40?! $60?! $100?! I hope they've increased since then!

Greg said...

Do massage parlors ever have big enormous strong guys or guns around in case there are guys with less self-control than Mr. 300 lbs?

cj said...


There's almost never any need for extra security in this line of work. However, let's just say that you never know which masseuses are packing, and that's usually enough to keep most customers in line.


Anonymous said...

I respect your wit, sarcasm, and blunt honesty, cj. You are truly an inspiration to me.

I was working at a hair and nail salon, renting a room, doing "legitimate" work. The first time for me (the first time I considered it) was with a guy named Bob. Bob was a very well-groomed, well-educated, and sweet man, who only after 6 sessions had confessed to me that he was terminally ill, was undergoing his 2nd treatment for prostate cancer, and had only a few months to live. He was going away to Florida to spend his last days, in the sunshine, and confessed to me that getting a massage was the "only good thing" he had ever done for himself, and so he looked forward to it every week. Honestly, I liked Bob. I would probably have had dinner with him or at least coffee, if he would have asked me. I found him intriguing and interesting and I looked forward to seeing him every week. He was my favorite "regular."
My last session with him he pulled down the sheets and asked if I could massage his inner thighs since he had a "sunburn" there from the chemo treatments. I could see his penis and I couldn't help but stare at it...I had seen many before, because either I had accidentally f'd up the draping, or because the guy would "accidentally" let it slip off, or would just want to lie there naked. Then, he asked me if I would "rub him down there." I said no. He asked, "Why not? It seems only natural, you know, for the end...for a tip, please?" I kept saying no, it was illegal, I couldn't. He kept asking probing questions like, "Only because it's illegal? Because I won't tell anyone, I promise. Or are you afraid? Or is it that you are just disgusted by me?" Being a "legitimate" therapist I should have kicked him out at the first question. But something stopped me. My rent was due. I had no money. I felt myself reaching over closer and closer to his penis...
I moved on to his leg, acting as if nothing happened. I caught a glimpse from my peripheral vision, expecting to see him rising up to attack me, or abuse me, or knock me out, but I only saw fear...He was shuddering, his hands held close to his body in a defensive position...he was afraid and alone, and most of all, rejected, somehow not good enough. I was always told in school this situation might happen, and I was always terrified. But then I realized for once that I was in control, and he was the vulnerable one. He said it was his dying wish that I would give him a release...
But I didn't.
At the end of the massage I started to cry. I guess I felt violated. Something kept running through my head over and over: My father crawled his way out of the mines to pay for me to get a decent education, and do you think he would be proud of me now? His daughter being some dirty whore?
I noticed he was crying too. At the end he got dressed and paid me my measly fee. I didn't eat that week, but I could have, if I would have only spared five minutes to make this man's day.
I never saw him again. A few weeks later I saw him in the obituaries, no spouse, no kids. Never made it to Florida. I then knew that I could easily do a HJ.

Anonymous said...

Less-than-lethal weapons (taser, pepper spray, and the like favored by the ladies) are better than nothing, but best deployed in the context of a team effort, as in, with several fellow officers holding the suspect at gunpoint. Rodney King got tased twice (darts!) and still kept lunging at the cops, ya know? Adrenaline, alcohol and drugs can inhibit the effects enough for the subject to remain dangerous. Just fyi (but I'm not telling you to get a .45, CJ!).
I must admit that I had never heard of the butt release thing. I knew about russian, but don't do that "outercourse" BS in parlors. If I want more intimacy than with a HJ, I go to full service joints (not too many boundaries there).

That last anon had a hell of a story. I was sure that the guy was pulling emotional blackmail on her, but it looks like he was looking for a little intimacy before letting go. Sad.
I think it happens in some form or another more than people think. When one thinks of massage parlors (just read the fucking media), one pictures hordes of horny young men, mostly blue collars, going to get their sleazy rocks off for a buck.
But, legit or not, massage can be therapy, and this is why I can't stand when the prudes get involved.
I've heard that some nurses give mercy handjobs, and remember that not so long ago, doctors had a treatment for female hysteria that involved some manual stimulation...

Regardless of how sorry we feel for that sick guy, the stress and pain that he caused to his masseuse isn't right. This is why I never ask for extras. Either the girl needs the money and it will come up, or I pass and enjoy the massage for what it is. No need to offend or traumatize some poor unsuspecting therapist. Too many out there are more than willing to give you what you need.
That guy could easily have done some research instead of ceating a rapport with his masseuse and try for more. I think that was pretty selfish of him.

Anonymous said...

To Slutty McWhore: those rates are exactly the tips for HJ/BJ/FS in LA. House fees on top of those go from $35 to $90. So CJ's rates, given all her limits and boundaries actually seem extravagant.
And incall escort can charge as little as $100-120 for FBSM (one hour). I've seen hot LMTs charge $160 for same. Just fyi.

I think that some customers can be rude about what they expect or how much they're willing to pay, but you guys have to know what the market will bear... I know I wouldn't come back at CJ's rates - too much selection in big cities.

Oh, and that trucker deserved to be tased in the nads. I so pity "lot lizards"...

Anonymous said...

to anon about bob: jesus I think that was the saddest story I heard on this blog post. You sound like a sweet lady...please try not to beat yourself up about it. While it is understandable given he was all alone and seeking some form of intimacy before the end you were not expecting this and it was unfair to you-it was perfectly natural to act the way you did. Hope Bob is living in a better place.