The next day at work was nowhere near typical. After tossing and turning all night she was a bit worn out, physically and mentally. Her beating the night before had taken a physical toll as well: her neck, her jaw, her shoulders, and her head all hurt from the punishment she took. She didn't think it was bad at the time, but the adrenaline wore off and the pain set in overnight. More troubling, her tongue hurt and her jaw was also tired in addition to be sore, both probably exhausted from licking his soles and flossing and sucking his toes for two and a half hours. Her jaw was the worst, paying for last night in two different ways.
She was also short with people and not in a good mood. At one point she had to go apologize to a coworker when she felt she jumped on him for no reason. He had said don't worry about it, of course, and she made something up like she was frustrated trying to tackle a spreadsheet that wouldn't balance when he popped into her office. But she did feel bad about it, she had never done that to a coworker before, she was troubled that she had done it then.
The next few days were more of the same, she didn't snap at anyone, but she did not have a good week. Thoughts and feeling came into her mind constantly, some she felt were natural after a session like that: at one moment she would be angry that he beat her down like that, then guilty that she felt angry at him for her losing so bad, then feel loss at not collecting the money (she had not gotten the nerve to email or text him). She felt other, stranger thoughts too: why did she beg to lick his feet, was it really 'her pleasure' to floss his toes like she said, why did she lift her head for that front head scissor, and why did she say "Ok, will this work" when she lifted her head as high as she could so he could put his junk on her face and clamp his thighs around her neck and jaw?
It was a very weird week, and of all the thoughts that came across her mind in the coming days there were two that became very clear: confusion of how he had done what he had done and how those events transpired and, more disturbing, a slowly developing idea she that maybe she had enjoyed every minute.
Jamie ended the week by having a few drinks with her coworkers Friday night: margaritas at the local Mexican restaurant not far from her condo before meeting a few of her personal friends for dinner and a few more drinks. She got home around 9 and checked her email she used for sessions that all her booking requests went to. She had been off that email since the session, not wanting to think about another session.
She saw three emails from Tim, one of her regulars who booked her every few weeks. The first was from Tuesday at 8:34 pm, when her hands and mouth had been full of Ray's feet and toes. There was one more Wednesday night and another Thursday around noon. Tim was sorry for badgering her, but he really wanted a session Saturday night.
"All the badgering men are sorry, but it doesn't stop them from badgering me. Tim, you get a free pass this week" she said out loud, alone in her condo. She responded, saying she was available and asked what time he had in mind.
She had decided earlier, while on her way home (and concentrating very hard on the white and yellow lines), that taking another session was probably the best way to get past the feelings and growing sense of.... she couldn't say what.... that were still lingering after the last session. Just her luck, Tim was the perfect man for the job!
Tim was 28 and worked some job as a park ranger or with some park district in town, Jamie wasn't quite sure. He worked for the state and had a fairly late model pickup truck, so Jamie assumed he made very good money doing whatever it was that he did. He had two little children, seemed to be happily married, and always gave her a fat tip after their sessions. He had a consistent request during every one of their sessions: he wanted to be beaten down by her. Nothing that would leave a mark for a wife to see, but no part of the session was competitive. He wanted to be tossed around, scissored in every way she knew how, choked via sleeper hold, forced to tap, and posed over with her feet usually on his face or chest or with Jamie sitting on his chest/neck, her thighs pressing up against his ears.
It was probably best he didn't want anything competitive: Tim was huge! He said he was 6'6" and claimed to be 240 lbs, but she suspected he was both an inch taller and 30 or more pounds heavier. He had been an athlete, football and basketball, in high school but not college, although he says he was good enough to do so (they all say that, Jamie thought). Like many men, and women, he had let himself go a bit with age and had gotten a bit soft around the midsection and the chest. However, he was immensely strong, and she had no doubt he could not only beat her, but seriously hurt her if he so chose. Thank God he was a gentleman and a bit of a pushover! Those traits paired with his massive size meant she enjoyed making him tap more than any other client! He loved massaging and worshiping her feet, and he was very easy on the eyes, Jamie thought with a smile. She liked both of those qualities in Tim.
She answered a few more emails, typical questions from perspective clients that they would have the answer to if they just read her profile, that same profile that listed her email.... Time wasters. She had been warned about them by the woman who ran the profile website, who was also a session wrestler, that Jamie was listed on. Jamie hated to think of these people that way, even though the woman had been proven right over and over again. So, even though she knew by the tone of the email whether it was a time waster or not, she got back to everyone and answered their questions as best she could.
Tim responded within a few minutes of her sending the message and offered 6 p.m. Saturday. He was now asking for a two hour session. He had never done that before, neither had Jamie, and they had sessioned several times. Jamie was a bit nervous to say yes after what just happened, so she didn't immediately agree. She responded, and politely asked why. Tim was back instantly, stating his family was out of town, he had the night to himself, and he wanted to get beaten up for 1:15 or an hour and a half (however much he could handle) then wanted to worship her feet and, to quote the email, "talk about your experiences as a session wrestler".
He also offered to pay for two full hours of her time.
She responded back that it would be fine, Tim instantly thanked her profusely and said he was looking forward to it. Jamie shut her computer and laid down to go to sleep.
Sleep was elusive, once again, as it had been each night since the session. Whenever she wasn't working and her mind not occupied with spreadsheets, email, or socializing it went straight back to Tuesday. Why did she say those things? How did they keep coming out of her mouth seemingly against her brain's wishes?
How did so much time pass under his feet? Two hours?!
What the hell did "Call me when you are ready." mean? Honestly, what could he have possible meant?
Her thoughts, as they had for days, focused on frustration, anger, feeling sorry for herself, defiance in defeat, to confusion for how she really felt, deep down, about the experience. Did she really like it? No, she couldn't have. Right?
She woke up at 8:30 on Saturday and went to the gym for a very light workout and stretching session. Nothing hard, she needed her strength to crush Tim later on. She went as much to work out as to occupy her mind to keep it from racing with all those conflicting thoughts.
She got home and decided to deep clean her condo. It wasn't really dirty or unkept, but it kept her mind occupied. Since the thoughts that kept creeping in were those she didn't quite know how to process just yet, occupying her mind had become top priority. When she was done it was 2:15, and she had over 3 hours before she had to meet Tim. She was getting weary from the lack of sleep, the light workout, and the deep clean, but before she went to take a nap she gave her feet some quick attention with her ped egg to clean up any roughness. She then put on a thick layer of lotion and some socks to maximize the lotions effect, set her alarm, and took a nap.
She woke up, took another shower to be ready for Tim, put on a bikini she knew he would like: black, white trim, with white strings tying at the hip and a matching triangle top tying at the back and neck. Just like the bikini she was wearing when she was trounced by Ray, just a different color. It was warm that day, so she threw on some shorts and a t-shirt over her swimsuit and put on shoes over her socks, no flip flops, so she could keep her feet clean for Tim.
'Tonight will be different.' she reassured herself silently.
She met Tim at the side door like usual, said hi and playfully asked if he was ready. He joked that he wasn't sure, and led her to the room. He opened the door for her and let her enter first, again, being a gentleman, and followed her in. She went in and sat on the bed, something she would not have done with Ray or any other first time client, but she felt very comfortable around Tim.
"So, Tim," she said, "you have something new in mind tonight?" she questioned with a smile.
He looked a bit nervous and she thought he blushed ever so slightly when he said:
"Yeah, I guess I do...."
He paused, and looked at her, seemingly unsure who should speak next.
She smiled genuinely at his schoolboy nervousness (that she thought was just too cute) and raised her eyebrows, wordlessly urging him to continue. He got the message and continued.
"Yeah," he stumbled again "I, uh, I guess maybe I was hoping that maybe we could do a normal session, maybe a bit longer than normal if you are ok with me getting two hours of your time. Maybe an hour and twenty minutes? I think you know what I like for a session by now but...." He trailed off and paused again, she wasn't sure why, then continued ".....then maybe we could just talk for the rest of the time about you and me. I would really like to know more about you, nothing personal of course, unless you are ok with those details, then I would love to hear them. Instead, I was more thinking about hearing your thoughts about sessions with guys like me. How did you ever get your start doing this? What goes through your mind when you make a grown man tap for mercy? Does everyone else love to lick your feet and toes as much as me? What do other guys ask of you that I don't?"
The floodgates opened a bit, Jamie thought, when Tim rattled off his 4th or 5th question without seeming to even take a breath. Not unlike her experience at the end of Ray's session.
