"Oh Shit Oh shit," my mind was in a frenzied state! My wife was here, now! How was this possible?
I couldn't quite take it in.
I was running down a hall with Scarlett's hand on my back, propelling me forward and guiding me into one of the massage rooms.
I stood there naked and panting. I looked over to Scarlett for I don't know what, guidance, protection, sympathy?
But no, Scarlett just laughed, like this was the funniest thing she had seen all day, and that was saying something!
I looked around frantically for my clothes, but of course they were in another room. I grabbed a towel off the massage table in this room and wrapped it around my waist.
The door opened and I jumped, but it was only Jenny.
"Damn dude, your wife is pissed!"
I could hear Jordan and Margaret trying to calm her down.
I snuck a peek just in time to see my wife in her yoga outfit walk into the room that did have my clothes!
"Where is he, the little shit? Don't tell me he isn't here, I can see his clothes right here! As a matter of fact..." and then she went silent.
The next thing I knew, she strode out of the room with my clothing pressed against her chest. I ducked back into the room I was hiding out in and could hear Margaret calling out "ma'am, ma'am" and then I heard the bell on the door chime.
She had left!
She had left with my clothes!
I was processing this, trying to decide if it was good or bad.
It was bad.
It was all bad.
Then the bell chimed again.
"JAMES!"
There were four rooms including the one she'd already been in. It seemed better somehow to turn myself in as opposed to being found cowering in a corner.So I took a deep breath and walked up the hall.
Jenny and Scarlett were behind me giggling. Giggling!
Again, I could hear Margaret trying to calm my wife down.
I turned the corner into the common room and both Margaret and my wife turned to face me. And that's when Scarlett pulled my towel away.
I just stood there frozen. I could hear Jenny gasp behind me. I could see Margaret's eyes grow wide, no doubt stunned that Scarlett would pour more fuel on this dumpster fire.
My wife's expression was exactly what you'd expect it to be, anger, confusion, horror, disgust and somewhere deep down there, the possibility of a slight smile. But that would have to wait.
I covered my privates and went on the offensive. "Sara, what are you doing here? How did you know I'd be here?
"God, you are such an idiot," she said. "Hello, find my phone!"
And with that she held up her phone and there on the screen was a pulsating blue dot that represented me in all my naked glory.
"My yoga class was cancelled, burst pipe or something. I called to see if I could bring you some lunch, but you didn't answer. I figured maybe you were in the shower. Then I get home, no James. Strange, because you said you weren't going anywhere. So I called again. No answer again. And that's when I tried this," she said, holding up her phone again.
"I look at street view and all I see are three businesses, an H&R Block office, a hair salon and this place.
What the hell James, what in the actual hell?"
"I'm just getting a massage," I say weakly. "You know my shoulders been kind of acting up lately and I just..."
"Why is your hair wet?"
"What?"
"Your hair, why is it wet?"
"Oh that's my bad," piped up Scarlett. "We were having fun with Jimmy and I poured ice cold water over his head and on his little penis."
The room went silent as Sara stared wide eyed at Scarlett and then at Jenny who had placed her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
Margaret guided Sara over to a chair. "Perhaps, you'd like to take James home now," she suggested.
Sara nodded as if she thought that might be a good idea, but then she shook her head and said "no, I want to know exactly what is going on here."
I jumped back in. "Like I said, I just came in to get a massage because my shoulder..."
Sara cut me off again. "Is that true," she asked, turning to Margaret.
"Well," Margaret said, "I'm sure that was his original intention, but..."
"Oh he never comes in for a massage," Scarlet said, "his sessions are always about the humiliation."
"Sessions," Sarah said, looking me dead in the eye. "Sessions," she said again emphasizing the last "s."
I think she was about to go on a tirade, but then her brow furrowed a bit and she said to no one in particular, "humiliation?"
It was at this point that Jordan and Sonia crept back into the room. They had been hiding out, but no way were they going to miss this!
"James?"
I didn't know how to answer. Oh I knew the answer alright, but there was no way I was going to verbalize it!
So of course, Scarlett spoke up.
Margaret tried to shut her up, to tell her it wasn't her place to provide answers.
"Oh no," Sara insisted. "I want you to tell me everything. Do not leave out a single detail."
I turned to give Scarlett a pleading look, to convey my desperation, to imply that a timely "just kidding" or "today is the first day I've ever seen this guy" or "he just came in for a shoulder rub," might still win the day.
Unfortunately, by turning around Sara got her first glimpse of my bright red ass and cried out "Oh My God!"
So much for "just kidding."
So Scarlett held court. No humiliating detail was too trivial to mention.
She started at the beginning, regaling Sara and everyone else with my first visit, where I told her all about my humiliation fetish, repeating the fantasies I had told her, fantasies that Sara was certainly hearing for the first time.
Everyone was laughing at these stories, everyone except Sara and of course, me.
"Wait a minute," Sara said. "So you're telling me on all these visits, you're not fucking him, blowing him or jacking him off?"
"First of all," Scarlett said with as haughty an air as she could muster, "I don't fuck my clients and I don't do blow jobs!
I do however give great hand jobs, but he wasn't interested."
Sarah shook her head. "I don't get it. So what do you do exactly?"
Scarlett started to describe a session when Jenny interrupted.