Gemma's New Massage Technique

The door slammed and I heard Gemma yelling my name. I sighed and smiled, and considered whether to yell back or not. She would be here within moments anyway, banging my door. Which I hadn't locked. I sighed again.

"I'm in here!" I called back. I was right, it took her five seconds or so to make her way from the hallway to my room and fling the door open.

"There you are! You busy?" She walked right on into my room without waiting for an answer and bent down to look at the textbook in my hands. Studying - what's that?

IPO Strategies - Optimal Long-Term Value Creation

," she read, her voice slowing down towards the end. She stood up and stretched, miming a yawn. "How can you stay awake reading that stuff?" She made a face.

I laughed and swatted at her. "As if

Post-Initiation Celebrations in the Aztec Empire

is any better." I had teased her about that one.

She crossed and gave me a superior, chin-up look down her nose. "Hey, that's interesting. And useful. Although that entrepreneur stuff you're studying will come in handy." She sat down on my bed and looked at me. I recognized the look. She had something in mind. Something very exciting, I guessed - she was pretty much quivering with energy.

"What?" I said. If I didn't ask, she'd pester me until I did. She always did. That's how she was - self-centered, domineering and more than a little obnoxious. Her saving grace was her underlying fun, kind and considerate nature. She made me laugh and swear at her in about equal parts. In some ways, rooming with her was like rooming with your annoying little sister, even if she was just a couple of months younger than me.

Gemma didn't answer, but reached out and plucked the book from my hands. She tossed it on the floor and then looked at me again, her eyes wide and shining.

"Hey!" I said and moved to retrieve my book. She pushed me back. "I'm studying, Gemma," I said in a slow, exaggerated tone, as if she was an obnoxious child.

"You look tense," she said. "You're too stressed." She raised her chin slightly, challenging me to dispute this.

"I'm not," I said, but didn't move. I stared back at her, meeting her gaze squarely. "I am not stressed. You're projecting again, Gemma. You should spend more time on your actual studies."

"I've been in the library for three straight days!" She looked hurt. Mock-hurt. "And nights, until they kicked me out."

"They need to go home and sleep too. Go away, Gemma. I really do need to study."

"Yes, but you need a massage first. I can see it in your eyes. And your shoulders. Some real tension there."

I groaned and hid my face in my hands. I knew it. Gemma was a certified massage therapist, and I sometimes wondered why she bothered going to university at all. She never seemed happier than when I let her give me a massage.

"I've found a new technique," she said, watching me intently. Her eyes were still very wide and she looked flushed with excitement. My heart sank. I could throw her out. It wouldn't harm her, but she would sulk and pout for

days

, and would ratchet up her considerate side to make up for going too far. She would actively pamper me. While sulking. It always made me uncomfortable.

The frequent massages didn't, not any more. She was good at it, I had to admit, although I preferred the regular ones to the innovative stuff she kept coming up with. Apparently, there were a lot of more or less fragmented accounts of massage methods in those anthropological journals she kept getting diverted into.

"A new technique, this time?"

"The account is just a hundred and fifty years old, so fairly new, yes. From somewhere in Indonesia." Now she was bouncing up and down on the bed. She leaned forward and made her sweetest, cutest face. "It will be the best one yet. I'm sure of it. It's going to work perfectly! Can I try it on you? Please, Sally? Pretty

pleaaase

..." She was batting her eyelashes at me, and I had to laugh at her. She was cute and she knew it, and I'd never met anyone who used her looks so deliberately and effectively.

"I don't know," I said. She cocked her head and smiled even more broadly and sweetly. It was my own fault, I thought - I had let slip that I enjoyed looking at girls, and from that moment she'd used all the feminine tools in her arsenal when trying to convince me of something. "I really need to study," I continued. "And I don't know what you mean - the normal massage works pretty well, I think."

She waved this away airily. "This will work better. And you will study twice as effectively after a good, thorough, relaxing massage by your nice, friendly roommate Gemma.

Twice!

" She was so close I could feel the warm of her breath. If I'd wanted to, I could have kissed her.

I sighed deeply and glanced pointedly at my book. She kept staring at me, with those big brown eyes just inches from my face. "All right," I said. "If it's quick. You have - ten minutes."

She jumped off the bed and clapped her hands. "Wonderful! Thank you Sally! You won't regret it, I promise!"

"Okay, okay," I muttered, touched and slightly embarrassed by her gushing gratitude. "At the massage table, right?"

Gemma had moved in with me three months ago, and had dragged in a large, professional-looking massage table. I had protested, weakly, since it didn't fit in her bedroom and I didn't really want it in a corner of the living room. She had overruled me, for the first but not last time. She could be really domineering at times.

I went out to the table, which wasn't in the corner anymore but was in the middle of the room, although over by the windows. The good thing about that was that I had a nice view when I got a massage. The bad thing was that there wasn't much room for anything else.

I pulled my t-shirt off and made to climb up on the table. She put her hand on my arm, lightly.

"Sorry, Sally, I forgot." She was looking up at me, through her lashes. "For this one, you need to be nude. Completely."

I took a deep breath, but nodded. I'd agreed to it, hadn't I. And it wasn't the first time. Several of her "rediscovered" or "reconstructed" techniques required full nudity. They hadn't been overtly sexual, but I would be lying if I said I hadn't become aroused by her fingers moving slowly all over my body. That also made me uncomfortable, even though it felt good. I took off my bra, my sweatpants and my panties, and climbed up to lay down on the table, face down, with my head on the ring-shaped pillow. It had a hole in the middle, for my face.

Gemma adjusted the height of the table and then put her hands on my shoulders. I could feel her excitement. Her hands trembled slightly. They always did when she had something she really wanted to try.

"It doesn't feel very new," I mumbled into the hole in the pillow. It felt like a normal massage. A good one, since Gemma was very good at this, but still normal.

"I haven't started yet," she whispered. "I wanted to make sure you're relaxed first." Whispering? That had only happened once before, before she'd given me a weird kind of repetitive foot massage. She'd refused to tell me why, but she'd been so disappointed by how it worked she'd almost cried. I hoped it wouldn't end in tears again; she'd been impossible for a week after that.

Her hands were steady now, though, steady and firm, as she worked on my back muscles. I made comfortable noises and did my best to help out and relax. Belatedly, I realized I should have set a timer. I'd given her ten minutes, and I knew from experience it was very easy to get lost in the pleasant relaxation.

"Okay," she whispered, "I'm trying the new thing now."

"Okay," I said. "You know, you should open a massage parlor instead. I bet you could get people to pay you to try new things on them, instead of wheedling me into it all the time."

"Sh," she said, but I heard she was smiling. "Don't talk. But yeah, maybe I will. If this works."

Her hands were moving across my back now, in long, slow strokes from my neck down to the small of my back. Very light pressure, but one finger on each hand was pressing down harder, and seemed to follow some imaginary line along my back.

"That's a bit different, yeah."

"Sh!" she said.

Gemma kept stroking my back, and slowly moved out across my body. She'd changed her touch so it was just her fingers now, with two of them just sliding lightly over my skin, and one pressing into it. She had also moved forward so she was starting on my face and then moving back, over my head or my throat, down across my back and then ending on my butt.

It felt funny. Good, but funny. I wasn't sure it was all that relaxing, and I suspected this might turn into one of the arousing sessions, but I would let her continue for a while. To keep her happy.

Gemma's hands moved steadily over my body, in a steady, slow rhythm. It seemed as if she'd found some kind of rhythm in my body, because I could feel something moving along with her hands. I wasn't sure what, but maybe it was some kind of tension. I was beginning to feel very relaxed. Limp, even.

She moved down to the middle of the table, and began stroking my legs in the same way. She started at my toes, over the soles of my feet and up my calves and thighs, to end at my butt. The light caresses were almost enough to turn me on, but the firm pressure somehow blocked it. It made my legs relax, though, and I felt her hands rearrange them slightly so they wouldn't fall off the table.

I was relaxing rapidly now, and deeply. Deeper than I'd expected. Maybe there was something to this technique, after all. I smiled into the hole in the pillow and let her continue.

My upper body was already relaxed and limp, and my legs and feet followed swiftly once she got to work. Before I knew it, she changed it again. She was still standing beside my waist, but now she put one hand on my butt and stroked me with the other, in both directions.

She started at my mouth, touching my lips before drawing a line all the way across my body down to my butt. Her hands met, and she gently squeezed my buttocks. Then, her hand went down to one of my feet, and did the same thing there.

That was all she did, over and over, but as she kept on doing it, I found myself sinking into a really thorough and drowsy relaxation. She even had to reach up and gently lift my arm back on the table - it fell off, and couldn't lift it back. I felt completely limp, in a very pleasant way. Except for my butt.

That was the weirdest thing. My whole body was relaxing in a way I'd never felt before, and taking my mind with it. but it felt as if she was stroking all my tension back along my body, concentrating it under her hand on my butt.

My buttocks were relaxed too, but her hand was moving constantly now, and it was incredibly distracting. I was so relaxed and limp everywhere else that her moving hand seemed to grow in my mind. It was as if I wasn't really feeling anything else, apart from that hand.

It was getting hard to think - I was that relaxed. I wasn't really sleepy, but I did feel drowsy in a nice, soothing way, and it felt like my body was melting - except the part under her hand. My mind was melting with along with my body, and I found myself just drifting in a kind of drowsy, relaxed fog.

It felt good, but it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was growing too, getting stronger and stronger with each stroke and squeeze, and I realized dimly I was becoming so deeply relaxed I doubted I could pull myself out of it. That made me blink - how long had it been? I really did need to study... but this felt very good, and Gemma would be so happy that it had worked. Maybe - maybe I could let her continue, for a while longer? For as long as she wished, rather - my body felt completely boneless, and my mind felt pretty much the same. It was very curious, but very nice, too.

Then she squeezed her hand on my butt again, harder, and I just sighed softly and let her relax me even further.

Gemma wasn't done yet. I had already lost track of time, more or less, and as she kept stroking and squeezing I lost track of everything else too. There was only her fingers, moving over me, and then her firm hand squeezing my buttocks. Increasingly, there was only her hand. Even her fingers were fading out of my mind.

I can't really describe the rest of it. I was more relaxed than I'd ever been, in both body and mind, and floated in that drowsy, pleasant fog. I wasn't thinking at all now, just feeling. Feeling good, and I felt better and better as she continued. She seemed to be doing something with her hand, heightening it somehow. As if she was focusing it on some specific spot on my skin, drawing all the tension she'd collected into that place.

And then, she plunged her finger into my ass. I just had time to realize it, before my mind locked up. Just froze, completely. I didn't move or react, I just froze. She thrust one finger into my asshole, and it was suddenly the only thing in the world.

It felt incredible, in a way I can't describe. It didn't feel good, or pleasant, or anything like that, but it felt

amazing

. And it pushed everything else out my mind. There was only her finger. Nothing else.

When she pulled it out, her voice echoed around the room. I lifted my head and twisted around to look at her, and she had to hold me so my relaxed body didn't slide off the table. I blinked and felt like my head was stuffed with cotton.

"Wh," I croaked and tried to focus on her. She looked - exhilarated. I blinked again. She was grinning from ear to ear. I could have sworn she was saying something, but... no.

I tried to sit up, and with her help I managed. My body still felt relaxed and limp.

"What... was that?" I said.

"Sh," she said. "I'll explain. I'll explain everything. Here, let me help you down." She took my arm and guided me down from the table. I swayed a little, but I was slowly coming back to myself.

Gemma let go of my arm and stepped back. She looked even more keyed-up than she had before.

"Sally," she said, "would you please get me a glass of water? Get one for yourself too, and come back here."

"Uh, sure," I said, and headed for the kitchen before I'd even thought about it. I still felt slightly spaced-out, but when I returned with two glasses of water, my mind was clearing.

"Here." I gave her one of the glasses. She took it and drank, but she was looking at me all the time. At my naked body, I realized. I hadn't even gotten dressed...

"Drink the water," she said, still watching me. I frowned, but did. She drank her water too.

"Okay," I said, "explanations, Gemma."

"Of course," she said, "you deserve it. But first, take my glass. Now, put both glasses on your head and hold them there. Yeah, good. So good..." She was grinning like a loon as I held the glasses on my head.

"Gemma!" I said. I was getting annoyed now.

"Okay, follow me. Come here." She turned and walked quickly through the room, to the open area between the kitchen corner, the living room and the little hallway. I gritted my teeth, but all I could do was follow her.

"Great! Now, put the glasses on your boobs. Over your nipples, so they're in the glasses." My mouth fell open and I stared at her, but - I did it. I stared down at my chest. The glasses were on my breasts, my nipples in them. What the...?

"Yes!" Gemma squealed and jumped a little. "Wonderful, Sally! All right, get down on your knees. Put the glasses on the floor. Good. Now, put your hands behind your head, yeah, like that. Arch your back. Push out your chest. Show me your boobs. Ooh, wonderful! And smile! Smile at me, like you're really happy to be here with me! Yes, Sally - perfect!"

I stared up at her. I didn't understand anything. What the hell was going on? And why the hell was I smiling at her, with what felt like my happiest and most honest smile?

"Gemma," I hissed through my smile. "What the hell is going on!?"

She reached down and patted my cheek, gently. "I'm sorry, Sally, I really am. I know this is confusing. You'll get used to it soon, I promise. I think." She giggled, which really ruined the whole soothing, comforting aspect of it. "I will make you feel used to it, anyway." She straightened up and suddenly looked serious, but her eyes shone as she looked down at me where I knelt on the floor.

"You deserve explanations. So." She swallowed, and for moment she looked uncertain. "What's going on, is that you do whatever I tell you. You do... everything I say. Anything I say." She licked her lips. It looked like an unconscious gesture. I shuddered, but kept smiling.

"What... do you mean?" I said. "What does that mean?" I wasn't usually very dense, but this made no sense.

"It means what I say. It means you do whatever I say. You obey every command I give you."

"Gemma..." I whined. Obey? "I don't understand."

"Poor Sally," she said and caressed my cheek again. And then giggled, and ruined it again. "Okay, I'll show you. Lean forward. Get down on all fours. Hands and knees. Yes. Arch your back, yes, get that pretty butt in the air! Good girl! And raise your head and look at something over on the wall. It doesn't matter what. Find something and stare at it. Good. Stay like that until I tell you to move. Now smile again, but this time, it's because you are happy. Okay? I'm telling you, you are happy. You are genuinely happy to be here, happy that I am ordering you around, happy to be doing what I tell you. You feel happy and calm and curious."

It was the weirdest thing I'd ever felt. I had been ready to jump up and shake her, to get some sense into or out of her - well, if I'd been able to move, at least - but now it all just drained away from me. I felt her words reaching in and changing me. I became happy. As she spoke, I became exactly what she said. I became happy, calm and curious. I wasn't angry or scared or anxious at all anymore.

"There," she said, watching me intently, "that's better, right."

"Yes,"I said, "I feel better. But - Gemma... you still haven't explained anything." I tried to turn my head, but couldn't. She'd told me to stare at the wall, and so that was all I could do. "What. Is. Going. On?" I was happy and calm, but I could still be clear and firm with her.

"I've found it," she said and knelt beside me. "I've found what I've been looking for all those years. Ever since I saw that old Scooby Doo cartoon."

Scooby Doo? I'd never watched that, but... oh shit. Gemma, you didn't... "Have you hypnotized me?" I said, and wished I could sound angry. Or, even better, be angry.

"No," she said, and reverently caressed my back. I shivered, but it felt good. "I haven't. Hypnosis can't do this." She leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Listen, Sally," she said. "This is much more powerful than hypnosis. Listen and obey, now. You are horny. You are aroused. You are standing naked in the middle of the room with your ass in the air, and you are getting more and more aroused all the time. Your pussy is getting wet. You want me to touch it. You want me to finger your pussy. You want me to play with your pussy because you are horny and aroused and your pussy is getting very wet."

And just like that, it happened. I became horny, and I wanted her to finger my pussy. It came from nowhere, just from her words. Somehow, her words made me horny, made me hot and wet and made me long for her fingers.

"Gemma," I whimpered, "what are you doing -

ooaauhhhh!

" She put a finger on my pussy and slid it gently across, a light, very light touch, but it almost made me cum.

"I'm taking you over, Sally," she said, and kept lightly stroking my pussy. I shuddered and jerked, but stayed right where I was. I couldn't even turn my head to look at her.

"I'm taking you," she continued, and her voice was hoarse now. She was as horny as I was, I realized. "You are mine now, now and forever. You will obey me completely."