Sandy's Massage

The masseur looked up as the Sandy came in. He had seen her around the club before, but never here in his private massage room -- and here she was, dressed for her work, but with her hair still platted from her morning run.

Simon, the masseur explained that it was a service that he provided for those special ladies - those who had come for refreshment and relaxation rather than those fighting the flab here. She had smiled, a little nervously during their conversation. But he assured her that she would be safe. Maybe she even would be...

He asked Sandy to prepare herself on the table as he had a few preparations of his own to do. She consented and he watched as she undressed revealing her body, lightly tanned and toned, peeling off the light blue t-shirt. God, she was beautiful. She asked if he needed her naked, but he told her not at first. She kicked off her shoes and un-strapped her watch. He examined every curve of her body as she pulled down the light cotton trousers - almost see-through, revealing white bikini knickers, then reached behind her back to undo the bra. He made sure the massage oil was warming nicely as the flimsy garment fell away and he had a brief vision of her perfection as the brunette climbed on the table, and, face down, she arranged herself ready for his ministrations, anticipating his touch.

He approached her, slowly. She knew what was about to happen - not all, of course, but enough. There was no-one to disturb them.

"I'm just going to start gently, at your neck and shoulders." He said.

Sandy nodded. He saw she was breathing short breaths in nervous anticipation.

"Just relax..."he told her as, making sure he had just a little of the scented oil on his fingertips he touched her.

Sandy felt the fingers stroke her neck and move along her shoulders, leaving a trail of warm oil on her skin. It sent a charge of pleasure straight to her mind as he began to caress and massage her neck and shoulder muscles. Her cares melted away as she sensed his fingers, warm, sensuous, on her body.

"You're tense... relax... you'll enjoy this..." his words were a balm to her, slightly hypnotic. She thought of the man in the tight white t-shirt who had her under his hands and she smiled that such a man could provide her with such pleasure.

He worked his way down her back, massaging the muscles down her spine. All the time, he took a little oil and worked it into her body. She gleamed like the bronze statue of a goddess.

"Are you sure you want a special massage?" he asked. It was her last chance to say "no", but she felt the electric pulse of pure pleasure that his fingers brought her and, quietly, she said, "yes."

Sandy felt his hands travelling up her spine, it was as if he knew every nerve and wanted to let the sensual heat of his touch to soak into every pore on her glistening skin. He started to stroke her arms, massaging biceps and triceps as he stretched them slightly until he held her lightly by the wrists and positioned them at the end of the table.

"It's okay, just relax... you wanted it special... just enjoy it" - that hypnotic voice again, strong, with, perhaps, just an air of menace. She had an idea what was coming next...

He left her for only a few seconds. She looked up from the small pillow that comforted her head. He was standing there, powerful before her holding the white satin scarf. Sandy made no struggle as he wound it around her left wrist.

"It won't hurt, my lady," he said as it tightened on her wrist, then the other end was fastened to the end of the table. She tried it, tugging lightly. The knots were tight - but it was not too uncomfortable. The feel of the tight satin was another sensual pleasure on her skin, different to the man's touch, yet still sending the pleasing signals to her. Sandy held her right wrist in position as it was similarly bound. He stood back for a moment looking at his work, and at the beautiful woman now restrained. She was trying the scarves, but she realised that, however soft, the knots were tight and Sandy was securely tied.

It was then that the danger of her situation and the pang of fear rose up - he could do anything to her. She didn't know if there was anyone else around, or what this man's motives might be. She struggled in her bonds, but his touch, calming and sensual came again.

"Relax... just tell me... I have things to prepare. I want you to open yourself up to your desires..."

Again the reassuring warmth of the masseur's hands on her skin, the fingertips touching her.

"Now we may really begin..." The words sent a shiver of anticipation, maybe even fear down her body as the brunette felt the return of his hands on her body, massaging neck and shoulders, relieving her tensions, then down her back again, as she realised she was now helpless to prevent him touching her anywhere...

"What do you want? What are you going to do to me?" Her breaths were sharp, insistent.

"What do I want? I want... you!"

"Yes?"

"And I'm going to have you. You may even enjoy it if you relax. I'm going to give you a massage - all over your body."

He stroked her thighs, her calves as he removed the bikini, finally over her ankles and feet. Discarding it, he rubbed her feet, lingering on the soles, warm oily fingers between her toes - it felt so good.

"Do you want this to be better? Would you like your senses heightened?" he asked her, slowly, deliberately as he ceased the foot massage and positioned her ankles a foot or so apart at the end of the table. She felt new scarves being stroked along her calves, then being wound around her ankles. There was no rush; he massaged her ankles as he tied them in place.

""Do you want this?"

"Yes," she gasped, "oh yes - how, tell me how..."

"Like this..." he whispered at her ear.

She tried to turn around and see what he meant, but at that instant her eyes were covered by another satin scarf. Instinctively she tried to struggle, but her wrists were securely tied. She tried to shake her head, but it only took an instant to blindfold her.

"It's all right, my dear, it just heightens your sense of touch. You will feel every nerve with every touch. You need to relax. You need to unburden yourself. Tell me all about you... your hopes, your dreams... your fantasies."

The man had her helpless - he could touch her anywhere. But it was true. He let one finger travel down her spine, all the way - oh God it was fantastic, the electric charge of the finger working its way over her body...

"So, what is your pleasure, my lady?" he asked as his hands massaged her lower back, smooth along her buttocks, warm, calming - unlike his words.

"I... I can't say, I've never..."

"I don't see you struggling; you accepted your bondage quite calmly. You must know..."

Sandy became more agitated at this interrogation. She squirmed in her bonds, her breath heavier.

"Please... I'm not sure," her fears conflicted with the touch of the man, the scent of the oil, the sensation of the scarves that bound her. The scarves - yes, she was trapped, he could ask her anything and she would be compelled to tell all. She felt her deepest desires welling to the surface, yet still she resisted. She was this man's boss - wasn't she? She would not have him revealing her fantasies!

"No, I won't say!"

"Then..." he began slowly," you'd better just keep quiet and I'll guide you! You'll enjoy it. You're in my hands..."

"Please, be gentle! Don't hurt me at all!"

"I will, my dear, and I told you to keep quiet!" he put down the bowl. She smelled scented massage oil.

Her words were cut off as he did something unexpected.

He kissed her. Full on the lips.

"Mmmmmmmmm!"

The kiss lasted seconds, but Sandy found herself responding to the sensual moment. Her muscles relaxed as his lips fought hers in their embrace.

"Oh," she exhaled as he released her lips. He had left her breathless. When had she ever been kissed with such reckless passion?

"I'm sorry, but..." His words brought her back to herself. She couldn't see that he was standing over her, the cruel look in his eyes, holding another scarf tight between his fingers! Before she could scream he held it down firmly over her lips!

"If you keep protesting you leave me no choice but to gag you!"

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!"

She tried to shake it off, but he held the gag in place, wrapping the smooth cloth around her head. She struggled - all to no use!

"MMMMMM,MMMMM!" She twisted as much as she could, but nothing could avail her against the strong hands and nimble fingers which tied the knot at the nape of her neck.

He stood back, surveying the bound and gagged woman as she tried to struggle in her bonds.

"Now, no-one is going to hear you scream. You can't protest. I'll do what I want. Besides, Miss Smith - you wanted to know about all our treatments! "

"Mmmm...mmmm" She almost cried in impotence as she realised the dominant man had her totally in his power.

"Good." He traced one finger over her gagged mouth - the smooth cloth showed the shape of her silenced lips beneath.

"There's just one more thing to do!"

Oh, God, she thought, as if he didn't have her helpless enough!

He gazed almost lovingly at his prisoner. Sandy sensed him moving his fingers towards her torso, along her sides, moving inexorably towards her breasts, the fingers gleaming with the scented massage oil.

"I'm just going to massage you."

Her body tensed, awaiting he captor's touch, the warm oily fingers that would search out the secret places of her body, naked, helpless, bound.

He sensed this, apparent in her hard nipples, showing fear as well as exhilaration. No one had wanted her like this before! He was transfixed by the perfection of Sandy's figure,, her slim, firm body, no stranger to the gym, lightly tanned, natural, no stranger to the beach, but here she was - no bikini clad vision - though he would have loved to see that - but bound and naked beneath his touch...The masseur's fingers worked on her back, starting at her neck, kneading the shoulders of the woman who gave low moans of pleasure behind the cloth.

Sandy certainly was enjoying the massage, constrained as she was; the fact that she was blind to the touch only heightened the feeling of the warm fingers on her flesh. Simon was working the muscles of her neck and shoulders with strong fingers. He worked her arms and hands paying special attention to her fingers gently manipulating the bound arms, ensuring the warm feeling all over Sandy's body, keeping her circulation. He slowly ran the palm of his hand up the side of her torso, feeling the curve of her ribs and the round softness of her breast. After duplicating the moves on her left side, he worked his way to her buttocks and gently and firmly manipulated her firm muscles.

Sandy was enjoying the massage - her muffled cries told that - and although she wasn't making any overt signs of wanting Simon to be more sensual, he felt she wanted him to go further. By this time, Simon was nearly fully erect, throbbing, but he refrained from touching her with it. He had learned through the years that there are fewer problems with massage if he focused on the pleasure of the client, and he knew she was experiencing maximum pleasure.

After massaging her stomach and lower abdomen, He traveled the fleshy journey down to her legs, once again focusing on those thighs. As he continued to knead and manipulate her legs, her pelvis began to twitch slightly, then more pronounced. Her face, swathed in the blindfold and gag, revealed nothing, she was entirely self-contained, without any sort of stimuli except the fingers, warm, oily, touching every part of her body. She had given over control of her body to this man - he had bound her, taken away her free will - she was no longer responsible for the reactions of her body, naked and gleaming, the bronzed figure offset by the white table and cloth straps of her bondage.

"Mmmmmmm..." he heard her pleasure.

It was only then that his fingers moved down between her legs, searching her out, the fingers almost with an instinct of their own, moving towards her secret places, and she sensed that the climax of the session was near. She began to breathe heavier through her nostrils as he touched her, writhed in her bonds, but a few soothing word from Simon, " it's okay, I'm not hurting you, just let go..." and she began to concentrate on the skill of his hands moving between her legs, stroking her buttocks, one finger lingering on her rear entry, then the soft stroking of his fingers down to her pussy. His fingers hesitated for a second over her, and Sandy was caught in the moment of anticipation, but knew she was ready. He felt this - and saw her wet, and he entered her. He was expert. It was a matter of seconds before she felt the strong fingers, surprisingly gentle, stroking at her clit, smoothly, surely, beginning to build in intensity as the helpless woman surrendered herself.

Simon's fingers worked in her, again, again, stroking faster, the glow within her started by the massage grew with every touch of his fingertips on her. Beyond the cloth bonds her fists clenched and her muscles responded all over her body to the man who had her totally vulnerable, stroking, sensing out every last dark secret zone of her, ultimate surrender, ultimate pleasure. Every nerve given over to the pursuit of hedonistic joy, blinded but totally sensing the effect of the hands on her, of his discovery of her, of her offering of her body. The fingers stroked faster, less gentle, but more erotic as he knew she was close, he breathed quietly, "yes, yes, Sandy, yes...." He had total control and she had none as he explored, fingers moving deeper into her, but the massaging of her clit keeping its rhythm, then building again as, sensing her gagged moans, he began the final surge, faster, faster, again, again, again!

Her senses almost overloaded with the erotic touch of the man. Suddenly, silently - her orgasm began. It surged up and those lean, strong hips and thighs bucked and jerked, then settled back onto the table and were still. It was a powerful orgasm that started deep in her loins and abdomen, coming into the open from somewhere deep in her physical and mental unconscious. His fingers inside her, yes, yes, moving to give her ultimate pleasure, the surge of fire within her. She could hear him breathing hard as she, her cries silenced by the gag, but she wanted to tell him "yes", "more!" as she bucked in her bonds, struggling no longer against the man's ministrations, but against her own orgasm as it burst upon her. She would have screamed at the intensity, the frenzy, of the feelings this man had given her. The other customers waiting for Simon were, however, undisturbed - no one knew the erotic charge he was capable of but her, she felt.

Simon left Sandy for a few minutes to recover before untying her, removing the gag and blindfold. She mouthed "thank you", and he smiled. She rubbed her wrists and ankles, but the cloth made little mark on her skin. He admired her again as she re-dressed, watching her pull the t-shirt tight over her thick dark hair, smoothing it over her body. The only other sign was a brief smile as he left, tidying herself, ready to resume work - in a little while.

In her office Sandy collapsed into the leather armchair. It did just happen, didn't it? Yes, something deep inside her said, and I want more. She would have to see Simon again! Checking her watch she saw that she had the time to look over the other facilities - the gym needed a look, but that could wait for later...