Harriet’s watch struck the hour, six o’clock, and with a rare satisfaction she slammed shut her laptop and stood up, ignoring the twinge in her back where she’d been hunched over all day reading reports. Today she was leaving work on time! She’d get home at least two hours earlier than any other day for the past fortnight. She could see her kids while they were awake! She could spend some sorely needed quality time with Fred…
The phone rang on her desk. Speak of the devil!
“Hey, babes.”
“Freddy! Perfect timing, I’m just packing up. I was thinking, since I’ll finally be home at a human hour, maybe we could make it a special night. After the kids are asleep, we’ll break out the wine and have a candlelit—”
“Yeah, sounds good, babes, cool. But listen: since you were going to get home by nine and you’d be here to put the kids to bed, I actually told the guys I’d go out with them tonight.”
“But this is my only night off…”
“And you deserve it, babes, with all the work they give you. By the way, Hannah had an accident with the pizza so she’s got tomato sauce all down her princess dress.”
“Why was she eating pizza in her princess dress? Why was she eating pizza at all? You gave them pizza twice already this week!”
“I just didn’t really feel like cooking. You know how it is. But, anyway, I left the dress on top of the laundry basket so when you do the washing you can work your magic on it.”
“You’ve been home all day!”
“But you’re so much better at it than me. Also, there are some dishes in the sink.”
“Did you even arrange a job interview?”
“No, but what do I need a job for? You earn enough for the both of us. Anyway, enjoy your night off. Relax! Put your feet up a bit, you’ve earned it. I might have already gone when you get here. Love you! Bye!”
Harriet stood, rigid with disbelief. The line was already dead. She replaced the receiver in a slow, restrained movement. She wouldn’t cry or scream or rant or rave. What would be the point? She was used to this kind of thing by now. Restraint was her watchword.
As she stood in the middle of the office, staring into thin air, the excitement of having a night off fading, she became aware of how tired and run down she was. The light was irritating her eyes and her head was pounding, her back ached, and her feet were killing her from wearing her high heels all day. On top of it all, she’d been looking forward to a night with Fred. They hadn’t had proper sex in months; even then he was about as considerate in the bedroom as anywhere else. She fumbled for the bottle of aspirin at the back of her desk drawer and swallowed two pills.
“Mrs Finn, before you go.”
Harriet turned to her boss, switching on a bright smile with practiced ease. He was carrying a new report; judging by its thickness, it was at least 200 pages.
“Would you mind reviewing the expense report? I need a summary for a meeting tomorrow morning.”
‘Harriet Finn, Corporate Services Director’, it said on her business card. Ha. Corporate Goddamn workhorse was more like it.
“That’s fine. Apparently I don’t have any other plans this evening.”
“Thank you, Mrs Finn. Have a good evening.”
He never called her Harriet, although he knew the male directors by their first names. People always said she’d done well to make it in such a male-dominated company. The trick, as she always explained, was perfection. Look perfect; be perfect. Take the high heels or the hip-hugging knee skirt she wore, for example. They were horribly uncomfortable, but they sent a message that she was feminine, pretty and, most importantly, professional: not one of the old boys, but not sleeping her way to the top either.
But perfection was exhausting, stressful, and sometimes even painful to maintain. Sometimes… sometimes she just needed to unwind and let go.
She couldn’t do that at home and she certainly couldn’t do it at work, but there was one place she could go… one man who could make everything feel better…
The masseur was wonderful!
She’d phoned ahead before leaving and he’d happily given her an appointment with barely a quarter of an hour’s notice.
“Anything for my favourite customer,” he said.
She’d arrived at the massage parlour with minutes to spare. The receptionist on the counter said that she could go straight through if she wanted, but she took a moment to clip open her compact and examine herself in the small mirror. She touched up her lipstick, probably unnecessarily, and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. There, perfection restored.
It was silly to be so nervous. The masseur was just a tradesman, after all. She paid him for his service. Still… she always liked to look perfect, and she especially liked to look perfect for him.
His hands were like magic. When he kneaded her tight muscles and stroked her smooth skin, she really could feel herself just melt. When he was done, she felt completely rejuvenated and ready to face whatever life had to throw at her. She’d first visited the salon three or four months ago, on the recommendation of a friend in the law firm down the street. She’d become an instant devotee. It was without doubt the best recommendation she’d ever followed up!
The massage room itself was brightly lit and open, although there were no windows. There was a massage table in the middle of the floor and a privacy curtain to one side, and some other cupboards and a desk. Otherwise the room was bare, almost sterile, like a doctor’s clinic. The effect was somewhat ruined by the masseur’s Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sandals. He didn’t have to worry about being professional or pretty. Although, clothes aside, Harriet thought he was very pretty indeed, in a boyish sort of way.
An image popped into her mind of the masseur without clothes, tall and manly and breathtakingly nude, like some ancient Adonis; of herself running into his arms, his big strong arms with their magic fingers; of him looking down at her with that cocky smile… She quickly swept the thought away and hoped he didn’t notice her blushing. She was a married woman, and as such she just couldn’t do things like that with other men, no matter how handsome the men were.
“Good evening,” he said with a warm smile. “How is my favourite client today?”
“Unbelievably tense,” Harriet told him.
“Well, that’s why you’re here. So, would you like a full work up and a bit of deep conditioning?”
Harriet sighed. That sounded so good. “I wish I could, but I don’t have a lot of time. I promised my husband I’d get home no later than nine so that I could take care of the kids.”
“Just a quick de-stress then? There are towels behind the changing curtain then hop onto the table and we’ll get started.”
Once she was comfortably in place, face-down with her head resting in the snug horseshoe cushion, the masseur got started with her back.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This tension is incredible.” He jammed a knuckle under her shoulder blade to work out a knot and heard her grunt between her teeth. “I know exactly what you need.”
He stepped over to her feet, pressing his thumbs into the soles of first her left, then her right foot, taking away the pain from her heels. Then he moved up her legs, working the calf muscles then the thighs, then the buttocks.
“There you go. Just relax and feel my fingers doing their work. Let your muscles relax one by one, let their strength just flow out into my hands. Let me take away all the tension. You can’t even feel your legs anymore. They’re relaxed and free, and soon the rest of you will follow.”
Now he was at the small of her back, making the tiny circles and shapes that her conscious mind could barely register, then the nape of her neck.
“Mmm…”
“You like that?”
“Oh God, you’re a miracle worker…”
“That’s it. Close your eyes. Your whole body is relaxed now. You don’t have to think about work anymore. In fact, you don’t have to think about anything. Let your mind just drift away into relaxation.”
Now his hands were on her temples, stroking in slow, even circles, winding backwards.
“Your mind is relaxed now too. No conscious thoughts, just my hands and my words. Let yourself sink into deep trance. Now as I continue to stroke your temples, you’ll sink deeper and deeper, become less and less able to think. I’ll count to three and when I’m done you’ll be completely empty and relaxed. Do you understand?”
“Yes…” It was barely a whisper.
“One… getting harder to think now… two… just floating nice and warm and safe… three… totally hypnotised.”
The masseur couldn’t help but grin. This was the perfect job. All day long, gorgeous, uptight business women would willingly take off their clothes and lie down on his table. With his special talents in tactile hypnotic induction, coupled with some minor verbal reinforcement, he could send them easily into deep, suggestible trance, and for the duration of their appointment he could make them do or become whatever he wanted. And when he brought them out of it, they’d actually pay him for the pleasure and beg to come back for more. That wasn’t even a post-hypnotic suggestion; he just made them feel too good.
And Harriet really was his favourite client. She was a MILF in the truest sense of the word (in that she actually had two kids aged five and eight). He ran his hands gently over her unconscious body, fingers fluttering over the sides of her big, soft tits and the contours of her round ass, a taster of what was to come. But she wasn’t just a stunner on the surface; as he’d found out to his delight, she was a starving, nympho sexpot underneath. All he had to do was replace her controlling, repressed personality with something wilder, and suddenly she’d be up for anything.
If she had to be home for nine o’clock, that didn’t leave them much time. Fortunately, she’d been under his hands a dozen times now, so when she went under she went deep, and he’d had plenty of time in previous sessions to leave some fun personalities behind for just such an occasion.
If time was short, he mused, he’d best just get to the good stuff, right?
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a soft and breathy monotone.
“Feel the personality of Harriet Finn coming out of you. Picture it as a ball of light emerging from your chest. Can you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Take that ball and put it on the shelf, where it’s safe. Look at the other personalities on the shelf, the ones that we put there before. Find the one called Candi Cumshot. Do you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Take down Candi’s personality. Do you have it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what you remember about Candi.”
“Candi is a teenage bimbo… very… sexy… horny… dumb… gullible… Wants to be a porn star.”
“That’s right, very good. Hold Candi’s personality close to your chest. Let it move inside you. Can you feel this new personality filling you?”
“Yes.”
“Now I’m going to wake you up by counting back from three to one, and when you wake up it’ll be as Candi Cumshot. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Three… becoming aware of your surroundings… two… feeling rejuvenated… one… fully awake! How do you feel, Candi?”
“Like, amazing! Doc, you’re, like, totally awesome.”
“I’m done with your back now, Candi. Roll over so I can see your tits, please.”
“Okay!”
Without a moment’s hesitation Harriet—now the vapid Candi Cumshot—spun herself over on the table, tipping the white towel that had been preserving her modesty onto the floor. Her large breasts jiggled for several seconds before coming to rest.
“You have magnificent tits, Candi.”
“Thanks,” she said with a giggle. “I think they’re, like, definitely my best feature!”
“I don’t think so. I think your pussy is even more glorious.” He rubbed a hand through her pubic hair.
“Well, yeah, duh, I mean obviously that’s what I meant. Geez!”
“I have some last minute things to do before we get started. Why don’t you take this lotion and rub yourself down with it?”
She practically snatched it from his hands and squeezed it onto her chest.
“This lotion is making me all tingly.”
“That’s okay. Make sure you get it absolutely everywhere!”
He stepped behind the curtain and listened for a moment to the squelching noises as she rubbed the lotion into her skin. Satisfied that she was doing as instructed, he whipped off his shirt and shorts and kicked off his sandals, taking everything off but his lucky necklace. Even before he was fully naked the squelches had been joined by other noises: long moans of pleasure punctuated with short, frustrated grunts.
“MmmmMMMMmm—ugh!—oooooOOO-mmm-ugh!”
He swept back the curtain with a flourish and stepped into the room. Harriet Finn—high-powered company director turned mindless bimbo—had one hand buried in her pussy, and the other in her ass. It looked like she was trying to fist herself in both holes at once, but couldn’t reach.
“I couldn’t get the lotion all the way in,” she said, shamefaced. “Are you mad?”
Keeping a straight face, the masseur shook his head and tutted. “I’m not mad,” he said, “just disappointed. Do you need my help?”
She nodded vigorously.
“Very well then. You’ll need to put some of that lotion on my cock.”
“Your cock?”
“Yes. It’s the only thing long enough to reach all the way inside.”
“Really? Awesome!”
“Can I trust you to get this right?”
“Geez, get off my case, okay? I, like, totally know what I’m doing!”
“Then begin.” And he thrust his crotch towards her. She couldn’t help but stare at his ten inches of cock, engorged with desire, bobbing slightly.
“So pretty…” she gasped.
“Get on with it!”
“Sorry.” With a warm hand she held the underside of the shaft, then drizzled lotion onto the top, catching the spillage in her hand and then rubbing it over the entire length. She ran a hand over the egg-sized head, making him shiver, then all the way down where she cupped and rubbed his balls.
“Enough,” he said after a while. “We need to get this inside your pussy. Hold it steady.”
Sitting on the edge of the table, she spread open her legs and positioned the throbbing head at the entrance to her cunt. But before she had a chance to say she was ready, he rammed into her as deep as he could, making her gasp in pleasure. Then he was like a piston, ramming her again and again, deeper and deeper, so Goddamn good she could barely breathe.
“Candi! What do you think you’re doing?”
“I… don’t know…”
“If you want to be a porn star you mustn’t close your eyes when I’m fucking you. Look at me, let me see your pleasure.”
She lifted her bright blue eyes up to his. She couldn’t even focus on him. It was incredible…
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Hold nothing back.”
“It’s so good. I love your cock. I… I… so close. Fuck. Fuck me! So great! Oh—oh! Fuck!”
She twitched and spasmed as the orgasm washed over her. The masseur was more experienced than this and was ready for more. “I think that side’s done,” he said smartly. “Time to turn over.”
With a strong hand he flipped Harriet onto her knees before she could say “What?” and lined his cock up with her butthole.
“Take a deep breath, Candi,” he ordered, and though she had no idea what was happening she obeyed immediately. Then he was pushing against her ass… pushing… inside! And she let out all her breath in a throaty groan. He started rocking back and forth, pulling out and easing ever further in.
“UGHHhhh… UGHHhhh… UGHHhhh… So big… I can feel it… So…”
The last inch was sudden, as he pulled her onto him and reached around to grab at her tits. Hoisting her upright, he bounced her on his cock, squeezing and teasing her tits as he nuzzled the hollow of her neck.
“You like that, slut? Feel me fucking your ass?”
“Oh yeah…”
“I’m gonna fill your ass with jizz, bitch.”
“Oh God, fill me!”
“You gonna cum? Work your pussy. I want you screaming when I cum in your ass.”
Immediately her hands went to work. As he pounded her ass, she crammed two… three… four fingers into her aching pussy, desperate to cum when he did. It didn’t take long to get up to speed.
“Fuck fuck! Yes! Fuck! Yes! I…! Oh! Oh God I feel… so full! Fuck! Yes!AAAAohhh!”
Candi didn’t even notice when the masseur dumped her unceremoniously back on the table; she was still riding the blissful high from the best fucking of her life. She’d lost count after the first two orgasms, and wouldn’t have been able to say whether she’d come three times or, like, fifty.
She didn’t notice when he started working his hands over her body, and barely registered when he started counting up to three. To Candi, it was just like falling asleep.
“Relaxed again. Now take Candi Cumshot’s personality, squeeze it back into a ball and put it on the shelf. Take Harriet Finn’s personality down from the shelf again. Let it flow back into you. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now in a moment I will wake you up, and you will feel as refreshed and rejuvenated as if you’ve spent a week in an expensive spa.” He glanced at the clock. “One last thing: As soon as you realise that it has gone nine o’clock, you will remember the pleasure that you felt as Candi Cumshot and you will immediately and uncontrollably orgasm. Tell me what you’ll do.”
“Uncontrollably orgasm at nine o’clock.”
“Good. Three… becoming aware of your surroundings… two… feeling rejuvenated… one… fully awake! How do you feel, Mrs Finn?”
Harriet sat up on the table, one arm across her bosom.
“I feel fantastic, like always. How did you do it?”
“I let Candi out for some fun.”
“Oh!” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Naughty boy! No wonder I feel so good. I hope you gave her a proper workout.”
“Of course.”
“And I hope she ‘paid’ you well in return?”
“Of course!”
Harriet lowered herself off the table and walked back over to the changing curtain to put her clothes back on.
“I’ll pay the receptionist on the way out,” she said through the curtain as she zipped up her skirt.
“That would be much appreciated.”
“Anything else I should be aware of?”
“Not really. We finished in time for you to get home by nine. Oh, but on the hour I suggest you find somewhere private. Somewhere the kids won’t be able to hear you.”
“Why…? Oh, you! You left a trigger, didn’t you? How much extra?”
“Free of charge, for my favourite client.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” She stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. She got the urge to squeeze his dick playfully through his shorts, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. When Harriet had regained her own personality, she’d also regained all of her inhibitions. She just couldn’t have sex with another man behind her husband’s back, no matter how tense and repressed and utterly, utterly frustrated she was… or at least, she couldn’t do it consciously. A lot of male directors in her company, she happened to know, went to regular (if expensive) prostitutes to release their tension. Harriet, however, needed a very special kind to enable her to let go and go wild. She’d definitely found a good one.
“See you next time!”
“I look forward to it.”
“So do I, sweetie. Always.”
Harriet had a new spring in her step as she sashayed out of the parlour. Yes, she thought, this masseur was the best recommendation she’d ever followed up on!
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