I have never had a massage and never thought about having one. I massaged my women as what I thought was part of our foreplay, but I was so good and thorough I rubbed all of them to sleep.
I don’t understand the appeal, I don’t believe in its medical rationale, and I consider the idea of putting two people of compatible sexual orientation in a closed room, whereby one person gets naked and slippery, a bad one.
If your back hurts, I recommend slimness and youth. There are no better backs in the massage parlor anyway, there are only thousands upon thousands of criminal charges: misconduct, abuse, assault, and somehow groping and forceful touching. Both masseuses and clients become defendants, it’s a combination of entrapment and misunderstanding.
The massage therapy industry is another part of a larger conspiracy of men who like to improve their odds and save time by creating sexually favorable settings: “We know each other, one of us already saw the other naked, this is just one more step, the last tiny one. Yes, you’re being dazed and coerced, but you’ll laugh about it ten years from now.”
I know how it all started. Somebody gave a massage to a polymorphously perverse man with an opportunity-focused mind. He created a business where people could provoke each other how long they can withstand bodily temptation. If something happens, we’ll have gratification, litigation, or both. If it doesn’t, we’ll drown them in advertising of this luxurious, unobtainable healing service. Your financial, relational, and spiritual life may lie in tatters, but you had a nice relaxing spa weekend and are ready for your next serpentine locomotion of philanthropy.
To legitimize this nasty enterprise, the polymorph went to colleges, made a generous donation and degrees in “physical therapy”, “kinesiology”, and “sports technology” were born. Then he launched a defamation campaign against chiropractors.
Here’s my campaign. Stop with the mud, the cupping, the hot stones, there is no shiatsu or Thai, enough with the aromatherapy and acupressure and dry needling. There are no meridians and no chakras. That red string on your child’s wrist? That does nothing.
There is only one real and effective massage, the original, the exquisite… the happy ending.
We can make a test. We’ll take a healthy person and wheelchair-bound person to a spa. We’ll give the healthy person all the nifty massages and therapies. We’ll stroke the invalid’s penis and beat him on the back with a baton. We’ll then ask both visitors who had a better time.
And I have one more idea. If you really want an effective treatment and be naked during it, go to the urology or gynecology office near you. There are almost no lawsuits here, these people concentrate on the problem at hand. A WOMAN I ONCE KNEW told me her female gynecologist was on vacation, so she went to see her male substitute. Couple of months later she was at a party and somebody introduced her to the male gynecologist. He said: “So nice to meet you.” She said: “Oh, we’ve already met, but in a different way.”