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Rachel’s Dilemma Part 2

"Rachel spends a day at the clinic and experiences her first erotic massage."

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Chapter 2 — Rachel’s Introduction

Over the following days, Rachel thought hard about everything she had been told by Mrs Robinson. She badly needed the money and from a purely financial point of view, the second option of becoming what could only be described as an erotic massage therapist was the only possible choice. Such was her situation that she knew that desperate measures were all she had left, but even so, when she went to bed at night she tossed and turned well into the early hours until exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a fitful sleep.

The idea of her clients being naked was okay, and she had no problem with inducing a state of deep relaxation through her manual skills, but she still felt very uncomfortable about the final step of using genital stimulation to give them an orgasm. Despite Mrs Robinson’s assurances, and even though she wouldn’t have to be naked, she still felt as if she would be offering a sexual service for money which would mean rejecting the ethical basis of everything she had been taught.

However, deep in her subconscious other feelings were stirring, and she began to wake in the morning in a state of sexual arousal and with vague memories of erotically charged dreams of faceless men ejaculating over her breasts while she stroked and fondled their throbbing penises and heavy balls. It was a very conflicted Rachel therefore who finally rang Mrs Robinson to ask if she might visit the clinic, reasoning that it was the only way to resolve her doubts and allow her to come to a decision one way or the other.

It was a bright and sunny Thursday morning just two weeks after her interview that Rachel drew up in the car park in front of an imposing yellowish grey stone mansion framed by majestic mature oak trees and with a view of the heather-clad hills in the distance. She had been expecting a red brick building like the Victorian villas in the affluent suburb where she had lived until her marriage, and she was immediately bowled over by the tranquil beauty of the house and surrounding parkland.

She still felt nervous as she stepped out of her car and walked across the gravel towards the porticoed front door where Mrs Robinson was already waiting for her. However, the calm beauty of her surroundings immediately started to work their magic and she could feel her misgivings begin to evaporate like early morning mist in summer.

Mrs Robinson greeted her warmly with a gentle hug and a kiss on both cheeks, “I am so glad that you have accepted my invitation. While I am showing you round my little establishment, I will tell you more about the earthly paradise that I am trying to create here. Then I hope that you will let me give you a beautiful massage, and only after that will I allow you to make your decision about whether to come and work for me. I am certain that we are going to become very intimate friends, so please do drop the formality and call me Angela.”

The double entrance doors led straight into a two-storey high square hall about fifty feet across. The first third was a reception area separated from the rest of the hall by a frosted glass screen about ten feet high. In front of the screen facing the main entrance was a high desk about half the width of the hall, equipped with computer terminals like a hotel and with two smartly dressed female receptionists on duty. The only access to the rest of the house that Rachel could make out was by double doors in the screen on either side of the reception desk, but behind the screen she could see the upper flights of two broad staircases, each with a stairlift, leading to a glassed-in landing running round three sides of the hall.

Angela started to explain the geography of the house to Rachel, “My Victorian ancestor who built this house was a cotton magnate who intended it to be a demonstration of his wealth and importance. He was also very pragmatic and constructed it on a north-south axis to make the most of the hours of daylight. There was a long gallery with large picture windows along the entire Southern aspect — almost 150 feet in length and twenty-five feet high — and reception rooms in the East and West wings. When I acquired the house I replaced the original windows of the gallery with floor to ceiling double glazing with three doors leading out onto a paved terrace, and converted it into a spa with a pool, jacuzzis and saunas, a Japanese style hot pool and a licensed cash bar.

"The east wing now houses the kitchen and the changing area and there is a coffee bar and licensed restaurant in the west wing. On the first floor, there were originally fourteen bedrooms, six of which opened directly onto the landing and with another eight reached by four corridors extending over the east and west wings. I converted the two bedrooms with doors facing the staircase into an office and committee room and changing area for the staff, and the other twelve into treatment rooms.”

“Would you believe it,” she laughed, “when this house was built bedrooms didn’t have any sanitary provision, so guests had to use the bathrooms and toilets at the end of the corridors. Even when my uncle converted the house into a small hotel, in the fifties he failed to modernise the facilities to modern standards. So when I converted twelve bedrooms into treatment rooms I had a modern walk-in shower and separate toilet installed in each, and as a consequence had to pay for a lot of expensive plumbing work. I did retain the original bathrooms and toilets, however, and kept the original opulent fittings, but with modern plumbing — our Victorian forbears might have been wonderful engineers, but their plumbing left a lot to be desired.”

Angela paused for a moment to allow Rachel to digest the information before continuing. “When members arrive, their card is scanned and they are given a robe, towel and a small handbag for personal items. They are then permitted access by the door to the left of the desk which leads to the changing area — the other door is for staff only. But come on, it’s time to show you round.”

After collecting robes, towels, and handbags for both of them, Angela swiped the automatic lock of the members’ entrance and they entered a short L-shaped corridor. At the end of the corridor was another set of swinging glass doors which opened into a large airy changing room like the ones in conventional fitness and well-being clubs. At the end nearest the entrance there were several banks of lockers and beyond them a large open shower area. Beyond that was the main changing area with several members of both sexes in various states of undress which surprised Rachel who had been expecting separate changing rooms for men and women.

Seeing the look of astonishment on her face, Angela explained, “As you can see this is a communal changing area for both sexes. Although we accept unattached men and women into membership, the majority of our members are either married or in a stable relationship. When a man or woman in a long term relationship applies for membership it is strict club policy that their partner should also become a member, and if they refuse we decline the original application.

"We are also very strict about cleanliness and everyone must wash thoroughly, including their perineum, before they are allowed into the rest of the clinic. Total nudity is only permitted in the spa and treatment rooms; everywhere else members must wear their robe, although it need only be loosely tied. Now if you just undress and shower we can continue the rest of the tour.”

While they were in the shower they were greeted by a grey-haired gentleman who could have been anywhere between fifty and seventy. Apart from a slight paunch, he was very trim, and Rachel couldn’t help noticing that his penis was quite large, even in its flaccid state.

“Good morning, Angela,” he said in a pleasantly modulated voice, “does your presence mean that I might be fortunate enough to be the beneficiary of your expert ministrations later on? Not that Janice isn’t very good, but your massages have that little extra something — I don’t know what you would call it. I do know that Mrs Mayfield is looking forward to her session with Thomas — she says that he has the most wonderfully sensitive hands. Oh, and by the way, who is the beautiful young lady with you?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Mayfield,” Angela replied, “but I have a full schedule of administrative matters which must be attended to, so I must regretfully decline to be your therapist today, but I will pass on your wife’s compliments to Thomas. However, let me introduce Elizabeth who is thinking of applying to become one of our therapists. She is a very highly trained masseuse and I’m sure you will agree that she will be a positive addition to the team.”

It was only when they had exited from the changing area into the main hall by another door, and were out of earshot, that Rachel asked who the gentleman was.

“When I tell you I think you might be surprised,” Angela said in answer to Rachel’s query, “but Mr Mayfield — not his real name of course — is the local vicar. He and his wife have a joint massage session every Thursday for which I give them a discounted price of £150, and he claims that it puts him in the right frame of mind for writing his Sunday sermon.”

After a brief look at the coffee bar and restaurant Angela led Rachel through a doorway between the two staircases, along a short corridor, which had toilets on either side, and into the spa. There were about forty people using the various facilities, mostly middle-aged, and all totally nude.

Rachel was impressed by the relaxed — even sedate — atmosphere, but still felt that she had to ask whether the members ever engaged in sexual activity.

Angela answered her very firmly, “I must emphasise very strongly that the rules of the club are the same for relationships between club members or members of staff as well as between members and therapists. Sexual intimacy other than during a massage is expressly forbidden and any infringement will result in termination of membership or dismissal if staff are involved. Of course, you won’t be surprised to learn that the therapists find their work sexually arousing, so they are permitted to use the therapy rooms for an hour after the final members‘ session, but only to give each other a massage. This also has the side benefit of allowing therapists to improve their skills and they are encouraged to comment on each other’s performance.”

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Leaving the spa, Angela led Rachel back into the main hall and indicated that she should take the right-hand staircase up to the landing. Directly ahead of them at the top of the stairs was a door labelled “Office” which Angela unlocked with a swipe of her card before ushering Rachel inside. In the centre of the room, there was a rectangular teak conference table with three chairs on each long side and a single chair at either end.

In the far right corner in front of the large picture window that took up most of the far wall was a simple desk with a telephone and computer screen. On the right-hand wall next to the desk there was a coffee machine and water dispenser, with the rest of the space taken up by a bank of filing cabinets. The most striking feature of the room, however, was the bank of eighteen large video screens in three rows of six, which took up most of the left-hand wall.

Angela offered Rachel a seat at the conference table and then took the seat at the head of the table. “Would you care for a drink while I fill you in on a few more important details which shouldn’t take long, and then we can proceed to what I hope you will remember as the most enjoyable part of your introduction, and the one that will finally convince you to become part of our happy family?”

When Rachel indicated that she was okay, Angela continued, “The clinic is open to members every day except Monday from 9 am to 11 pm and they may use the facilities even if they don’t book a massage. Light snacks are available in the coffee bar throughout the day, and the restaurant is open for lunch from 12 noon to 2 pm, and dinner from 7 to 9 pm. All the treatment rooms are thoroughly cleaned every morning before we open, and the towels and massage table covering are changed at the end of each one hour session when the massage oil is topped up if necessary.

"There are twelve sessions during the day, the last one starting at 8 pm, which means that we can treat a maximum of 144 members per day and 864 members per week. I am planning to add a two-storey annexe to the east wing at some stage with a further eight treatment rooms, four on each floor, but this will depend on me getting planning permission from the council. Well Rachel, do you have any questions at this stage or shall we proceed to the more pleasurable part of your morning — your personal massage?”

ooOoo

Chapter 3 — Rachel’s Erotic Massage

“Before we go and prepare, however, perhaps we should have a look in on a couple of the treatment rooms just to get you in the mood,” and Angela walked over to the desk and pressed a couple of switches on a keypad set into its surface.

Two of the video screens lit up to reveal identical rooms with a low massage table in the centre. In one room a grey-haired slightly overweight man was lying on his back on the table, his semi-erect penis lying on his tummy. A blonde-haired woman, who Rachel guessed was in her early thirties, was standing just behind his head with her hands on his shoulders.

She was wearing a short open-fronted tunic that barely covered her bottom with a single tie at the waist, but she was otherwise nude. The way she was standing with her legs slightly parted the man had a close-up view of her clean-shaven vulva just a few inches above his face, and as she leaned forward to run her hands down his chest her ample breasts fell out of the tunic.

“That’s Amanda,” Angela said, “with Mr Johnson. He is an accountant and he keeps an eye on our books for me. He comes twice a week and usually asks for her. She is perhaps our most uninhibited therapist and often works totally naked, but that is entirely her choice. As I told you when we first met, the service we provide is holistic and in order to give our members a completely satisfying experience we try to involve more than just the sense of touch. Obviously the physical appearance of the therapist plays an important part, but most of our female therapists become sexually excited to some extent and I have been told by many members that the sight and scent of their arousal greatly enhances their pleasure.”

Rachel was surprised to feel a tingle of excitement in the pit of her stomach, as much from what Angela had said as from the scene in the video screen, and to her slight consternation, she was aware that her panties were becoming damp. She then looked at the second screen where an elderly woman was lying on her back with her legs wide apart and her knees pulled up to her stomach. Her therapist, who was wearing a thong, was dark-skinned and unusually tall for a man from the Indian subcontinent, and although Rachel couldn’t see much, she was fairly certain from the way his client was breathing that he was massaging her genital area.

Rachel looked enquiringly at Angela, who paused for a moment with a smile on her lips, “Ah, that is Thomas, which is his real name. He comes from Goa and was brought up by Catholic nuns because his mother sadly died giving birth to him. He is truly a most kind and gentle man, and is very popular, and I’m sure that you will become very good friends. When he had finished his secondary education at Loyola High School he trained in Ayurveda massage before coming to the UK ten years ago.

"He is very skilled, but if he turns round you will be able to see his most significant feature. No, I don’t think we are going to be lucky this afternoon as his massage of Mrs Jones seems to be reaching a critical phase. I can assure you, however, that he has a penis to match his stature, and from personal experience, I can tell you that when he ejaculates, it is truly stupendous.”

Angela switched off the video displays, “I’m sure you have seen enough and that you must be eager to enjoy your own massage. Oh, by the way, my card is the only one that will open the door to this office. I do not permit anyone to snoop on the therapy rooms — the relationship between therapist and client is personal and private. If you would like to make your way to room eleven — at the end of the first corridor on the right — and remove your robe and lie face down on the table, I will change into my work clothes.”

After just a few minutes of her massage, Rachel decided that Angela was a very skilled therapist. By the end of thirty minutes when every muscle had been cajoled into submission and aching joints rejuvenated to their youthful suppleness Rachel was floating in a state of almost hypnotic relaxation. The flood of endorphins in her brain had started to heal all the tension that Angela had correctly diagnosed as a symptom of her mental pain and distress and for the first time in months, she felt something like happiness.

Rachel would have been content for the massage to have ended at that point and left to doze in the soothing ambience of the room with its subdued lighting and subtle background music. It was only in retrospect that she realised that it was only when a client had reached a level of total relaxation through conventional massage that they could be assisted by the skilful hands of the therapist on the journey to the ultimate level of sensual pleasure in the exquisite beauty of orgasmic bliss.

Angela began by gently caressing Rachel’s breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh with her palms and rolling each nipple between her fingers until they swelled and hardened, sending delicious sensations down into her groin. As Angela bent forward to run her hands down from her breasts and across her stomach to stroke her pubic mound, Rachel opened her eyes for a moment and saw Angela’s smooth vulva and swollen labia just a few inches from her face. The vision of Angela’s own sexual arousal was amazingly thrilling to Rachel and sent her growing excitement to another level.

After a few minutes of repeated slow caresses from her breasts along her stomach to her pubic mound, it seemed to Rachel as if energy was entering her body from Angela’s hands and flowing like a river through her flesh into her pussy. Even before Angela had transferred her attention to Rachel’s vulva, she could feel her inner labia opening like the wings of a butterfly unfurling in the sun and her clitoris swelling and throbbing with mounting urgency.

When Angela started to run her fingers along the cleft of her vulva from the entrance of her vagina to her clitoris, rolling the engorged folds of her inner labia between her fingers, Rachel began to lift her hips from the table to push against Angela’s hands as her body and mind sought release from the almost unbearably exquisite tension in her sex. She felt as if her whole person had become concentrated in her clitoris and vagina and every sensory nerve ending in her body began to light up as the intensity of her arousal reached hitherto unknown levels of pleasure.

At first, her orgasm was like the sound of an approaching train growing louder and louder as it rushed towards her. Then it became like a mighty sea breaking in towering waves on the enraptured flesh of her most intimate feminine parts and sweeping up the beach of her writhing torso.

Finally, when she sensed that Rachel was close to the summit of extreme rapture, Angela penetrated her vagina with the fingers of one hand, thrusting them deep into the velvet darkness, and rapidly squeezed and rubbed the glistening bud of her clitoris. To Rachel, her climax was like a cataclysmic explosion of ineffable joy as she entered into a new realm of ultimate ecstasy. Time stood still and for an infinity of unbelievable fulfilment, she floated in a bubble of overwhelming pleasure.

To be continued.

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Written by Dark_Apollo
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