Happy Ending that is Also Horrible

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Drama in a Bangkok Soapy Massage Parlour.
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earnie65
earnie65
162 Followers

It was at the annual Taste of Chicago Festival that I met the Thai waiter. I ordered fried rice and wanted him to assure me that it contained no bugs that I believe forms an important part of Thai cuisine. He laughed and said that to taste those special dishes I have to go to Bangkok.

'Have you been there?' he asked me.

'I have not but would love to,' I said, 'not to taste locusts but to enjoy the world famous Sensual Soapy Massage with a Happy Ending. Have you been there?'

'You mean the soapy massage parlours? No," he said, ' too expensive, and even if I can afford it I won't after reading what a friend of a friend of mine has written about those places.'

'Bad things?'

'Not really. Depends on your point of view. Friend of my friend was keen that the world should know about the soapy massage business and he gave the manuscript to me to get it published. Little did he know of the influence that a Thai waiter in Chicago commands with the publishing business."

'You have the papers with you?'

'I have,' he said.

'If you can give it to me I can publish it in the Internet.'

He said he would be happy if I would do that. He asked me to come the next day to collect the papers which I did. What follows is the unedited reproduction of the manuscript.

*

I am Niren. I am 18 years old. I am a Thai male. I live with my mother and elder sister in Bangkok. Our village in 200 miles North of Bangkok. My father who was a truck driver came to live in the city for a steady job. I was ten years old at that time and my sister 13 years old. My father was a hard worker. Unfortunately he also was a hard drinker. He got liver disease and died. I was fifteen years old at the time of my father's death. My mother who was a housewife till then had to work as a cook in rich houses to keep her two children in school. When my sister Kanya finished school she took up a sales person job in one of the big malls in Bangkok. My sister is very very attractive. She had no difficulty in getting this much sought after job. Soon she got a much better job and suddenly we were well off. My mother was no longer working and in fact she could employ a woman to help her with household work.

One day my desk mate in school who was also my best friend was absent from class. The reason for his absence soon spread as interesting news items always do even as the class is going on. It seems his sister had killed herself by hanging. Though he was my friend I knew very little about his family. I knew he had a sister and I also knew he was well off. He was absent the next day but came the day after. As was to be expected he accepted our condolences but kept silent. I gave him the notes of the classes of his absent days and after the class I offered to help him copy them in his note book. It was then that he told me the story of his sister.

"It is a secret," he said. "You must keep it to yourself. I am telling you for I feel I will burst if I keep it to myself." I promised hence I am not revealing his name. His sister was a one of the girls in a well known soapy massage parlour. We boys of course know of these massage places and discussing what goes on inside is often a popular topic of conversation. My friend told me that the customers chose girls in the fish bowl which is nothing but a large room with a glass wall on one side. The girls sat in rows on the other side and the customer chose his girl. The man and the girl then retired to a room where the girl massaged the man. The important point is that both of them will be in the nude. The girls get handsome pay. I did not know why my friend's sister should have taken this extreme step. I thought the job was a comfortable one. Some days later I asked the friend what made his sister do that. He said for some reason girls in this job get depressed and every year one of two of them kill themselves.

The next morning suddenly I got a thought that jolted me. Was Kanya working in a massage parlour? She earned a lot and her working hours were irregular, she worked on all days of the week with longer stints on week ends. The clincher was that the only time she stayed away was during her periods. I knew she had her periods for on these days she will lie in bed and spend longer times in the bath room. I asked her what her job was and she said that she was working for an American company. Why these odd working hours?' I asked. 'We work to American timings,' she said. I left it at that. I finished school and was attending job interviews. One afternoon when I came home I found my sister weeping on mother's shoulder. Later I asked mother why sister was crying. She said that she had lost her best friend. How? I asked. With some hesitation mother said she died of fever. From her body language I was sure that not only was she not telling the truth but also hiding something ugly. I insisted that she give details. It seems this girl who was a colleague of Kanya had taken a drug overdose. I decided that as the man of the house even though I was the youngest I must get to the root of the problem. By relentless questioning I got the truth out of mother. Kanya was indeed working in a massage parlour.

"Why there?" I asked mother. "A school friend's sister who was also working there killed herself by hanging a year ago. You want Kanya to go that way?"

"These are the exceptions," said mother. "Two girls from our village who worked in massage parlours are rich and live in big houses in our village itself. Kanya gets paid well because she has qualities that most Thai girls lack."

"What qualities that our girls lack?" I asked. I was annoyed that mother should say that our girls are wanting in beauty.

"She has sharp features and is big chested. Thai women are mostly blunt-nosed and flat-chested." Mother was correct on these points.

"The nose and breasts of our girls are the best," I said doggedly.

"Not for the foreigners who come there," said mother.

Even for a Thai young man hardened as he is by seeing so much of sex sold openly in the country it is discomforting to know that a sister is in the sex trade. I was sad more than angry but soon another feeling rose like mist and hid all others. My feelings towards my sister changed. Hitherto I saw my sister as a sister and not as a sex object. After knowing that she was massaging men in the nude I started taking a different sort of interest in her. The very next morning as I was in our hall reading the newspaper I saw Kanya standing at the back door that led into the compound. She was wearing a thin night dress and against the brightness of the light outside I could see the outline of her body. It was magnificent. Her back was towards me. Her buttocks were a beauty. She stood with parted thighs and I saw or imagined I saw the lips of her inner leaf in silhouette. Then she turned to one side and her breasts came to view. It was breath taking. I had to agree that large breasts are indeed lovely. My penis was throbbing. The display did not last long but long enough to make me rush to the bath room to masturbate. At home when she wore a blouse with a low neck line I could see quite a lot of her breasts but alas the nipple was always beyond my vision. She became my sole fantasy object.

I had qualms of viewing by sister with such a mind set. It was incest. But deep down I was unconcerned. I convinced myself that I had greater right to my sister's body than these strange foreigners. It angered me that my sister should be massaging these men in the nude. Did they roll about in the tub with my naked sister? Did they fondle those wonderful breasts? Did they lick her vulva and did they thrust their organs into her vagina? When I came to that point I would be shivering with rage. But what could a jobless young man do.

One day I landed a good job. I put the plan that had formed in my mind for some time into action. It was to confront my sister in the massage parlour. My plan was a strange mixture of the sordid and the noble. I wanted to caress her naked body and fondle her, and feel her vulva and well, have sex with her, why not? At the same time I wanted her to get her away from her job. Apart from my mother she was the only one who cared for me in my teeming country. The very thought of her lying dead made me shiver. My sister can get moody and the danger of her taking her own life was real. I had no idea how I should go about these two contrasting objectives but I knew that once I get started I can see my way ahead.

2

One afternoon on a clear cool spring day I went seeking soapy massage to the parlour where I knew my sister worked. I had got the details from mother. My sister quite possibly did not know that I knew she was in this business. The man at the gate looked at me in a hostile manner. He was of course performing his duty of keeping minors away. He will get into serious trouble with the police if he failed to do that. He asked for my photo ID. I gave him my driving license. He wanted my Pass Port. All clients it seems show their Pass Ports. I did not have one. He was on the point of denying entry when I told him that if an eighteen year old can massage what objection could there be for another eighteen year old to get the massage. He must have seen the logic in what I said for he spoke into the intercom and let me in. I had to pay up front and the girl cashier was not friendly.

"Don't you think you are too young of this sort of thing," she said.

"First ask the girls in the fish bowl that question and then come to me," I said curtly. Thereupon she took the money and let me in.

Soon I was looking into the celebrated Fish Bowl. The girls sat in two rows. I counted fourteen. They were chatting and laughing in a manner that suggested that they were pretending that they were unaware of an audience. Or may be it was a one-way glass. All had good sized breasts. Mother was correct when she said that big breasted Thai girls had a great future as soapy massagers. On the other side of the glass the patrons, seven of them including me, all men of course were strolling up and down inspecting the wares on offer. Except for me all were Caucasians. They were all on the wrong side of middle age.

Unlike the others I was not weighing the merits of the girls. I was searching for my sister and I was getting desperate that I could not spot her. Could mother have given me the wrong place? But why should she? Were the girls in disguise? Not improbable. Then I saw Kanya in the middle of the back row. She was sporting a large white magnolia on her luxuriant heir. By curious irony soapy massage tradition considered pinning numbers on the girls degrading. I hurried to the counter lest someone else steal my sister. I indicated my choice. The woman at the counter opened her album and showed me a photo of the girl for confirmation. It was Kanya all right. Formalities were over but I had to wait. The girl had to be given time to move to the room. I sat in a corner sofa and allowed my thoughts to wander.

Once again I examined the incest aspect of my adventure? Once again I decided that if it was proper for the old men prowling round the Fish Bowl to get massaged and more by my sister it was certainly proper for me her blood brother. In fact the specimens of manhood I saw in the inspecting line made me all the more convinced that I was doing no wrong. When the indication came that sister was ready the attendant asked me to take the side exit to the villa in the compound and tap at the door the number of which was embossed on the token the attendant gave me

It was a teak door with typical Thai designs cut into it. I tapped. The door opened after a short delay. Kanya stood at the door with a broad welcoming grin. But the grin lasted only for a fraction of a second and a frown of annoyance took its place.

"You?" she said. She was annoyed certainly but she was not hostile.

"Yes," I said.

"What do you want?"

"The same thing the other men who come here want," I said handing over the token.

"But I am your sister."

"A sister, an older one especially, can massage her brother, can't she?"

"It is more than a massage. It may be inappropriate for sister and brother to indulge in it."

"I have a better right than the strangers you massage."

"One of my colleagues can do that. I can arrange."

"If you can massage total strangers why should you object to massage someone you love more than anything else in the world?" I spoke blandly in an even voice but I could not avoid a stutter caused by emotion. Kanya smiled. It was not the smile of a professional. It was a sister's smile.

"Come in," she said. I sat on a divan as customers do to get acquainted.

"Where did you get money to pay?"

"My first salary from my first job."

"You have been working only for 15 days."

"They pay me well. One third I gave to the temple, one third for mother, and the rest for you."

"For your use?"

"From my first pay packet I won't take anything for me, other than a sister's massage." I smiled. She now had to make a quantum leap from loving elder sister to that of a massager in a Bangkok Soapy massage parlour and all that it implies. She closed her eyes as if that was necessary to reset the mode and gave her head a shake to settle her jangled neurons. She got up.

"Come," she said and holding me by the hand she led me in. I suspect that she took me on because I was possibly her fantasy object too. Or may be rolling about in the nude with countless men had blunted her sensitivity to such nuances like incest.

"My name here is Shifra but you can call me Kanya. What name did you give?"

"I did not give any. They did not ask me. They took it down from my driving license. I had to give age proof." She laughed.

"My little brother will be a man soon."

3

It was a spacious room with a bathing stall in one corner and large Jacuzzi half full with soapy water in the middle.

"First we bathe," said sister. She came forward and tried to undo my shirt button. I took a step back. She burst out laughing. "How can we bathe unless we undress?" Soon she removed my shirt, pants and underwear. I stood before my elder sister once again in the nude. I was squirming and she was laughing at my discomfiture. "Look here young man I have bathed you countless number of times. Relax. There are differences though. Then your organ was a chilly pod, now it is a banana." She laughed again.

And then she started undressing. She removed the top and she was wearing no bra her breast lay exposed. They were large and had a mango tip upturn and surprisingly not sagging. I gasped.

She did not show even the slightest shyness at exposing her breasts to me for the first time. After a year in this business exposing herself to hundreds of men that was not surprising.

"You are acting as if you have never seen them bare," she said.

"When I last saw them last this they were mere bulges," I said, "when you wear a low neck line blouse and bend I have seen a lot of them but never the nipples."

"Naughty," she said and came closer and taking both my hands she placed them on her breasts. "Fondle and end it by plucking the nipples." I ran my palms across those magnificent mounds and then I plucked the nipples as she had ordered. Sisters stepped back and looked at my penis. It was now erect and throbbing. She gripped it gently. She then took off her trousers and was in the flimsiest of knickers. She gripped my hand and led me into the bathing stall. She turned a knob and water issued with great force from every side. She then pulled down the knickers and presented herself to me totally naked. She had shaved her vulva smooth. I hugged her and emotionally pressed my penis against her vulva. She responded by arching her vulva against my penis.

"Kanya," I said, "may I see you."

"You are seeing me." She was teasing.

"Your womaness."

"Oh that," she said and pressed me down by the shoulders till my eyes were in level with the vulva. She spread her thighs. I touched the labia and then I spread the lips.

"Can I kiss Kanya?"

"You should," she said and I kissed the slit and then I spread the lips and kissed the clitoris.

Stand up and lean forwards with both palms on the wall," she said. I did so. She soaped my back and then she rubbed her body on the soaped back. Now I had the inkling of why the Bangkok soapy massage is so famous.

"Do you do the same to all customers?" I asked.

"Of course. As a paying customer you will not be short changed just because you are a brother." She laughed. I did not find it funny. Then as she was rubbing her breasts on my back she embraced me from behind to soap my chest and then my abdomen and then she gripped my penis and soaped it too only the penis received greater attention.

"Nice big one you have got," she said holding my hard penis with both hands. And then we rinsed and dripping wet we moved to the Jacuzzi.

I have never been in a Jacuzzi. I found it a pleasant experience with warm water squirting on you from various under water jets. But with a naked sister crowding me in the experience was just heavenly. Kanya rubbed her breast on me and whenever possible she got astride and rubbed her smooth vuvla on various parts of my body. The feeling of the inner leaves on soft parts of the body was quite delectable. 'Was she doing the same to the other men?' The thought annoyed me but I did not ask for she would deliberately misunderstand the question and say that she was not short changing me because I was her brother.

She asked me to lie on my back. The water level was just enough to immerse my body and the erect penis protruded above water level like a submarine periscope. It did not appear that it was a chance occurrence. Kanya gripped the penis with both hands as if by reflex and moved her hands up and down the shaft with a face full of determination as if to jerk me off there and then. But she stopped suddenly. The time was not ripe for the Happy Ending.

"Now for the massage," she said. We got off the Jacuzzi. She pulled an air mattress to the space next to the tub. She took a wooden bowl to a sink and opened the tap. It was not water but stringy oil that issued out. I lay face down and she held as much of oil she could in both hands and poured it on herself. And the she took another fistful and smeared it on my body and then she massaged. This is where the Thai massage beats all other forms of massaging to nothing. This is how Kanya massaged. She lay on my back face down and used her whole body weight to press my back. With both of us fully lubricated she could slide up and down with ease. Her breasts, her abdomen, her vulva and her thighs gliding over my body produced an indescribable sensation. I moaned

Then she turned and we lay back to back as she glided over me. I do not know how but in this pose she seemed heavier. As she slid over me I felt soothed. Then she asked me to turn over. I expected me to come up on me but I had underestimated the scope of the sensual massage. Sister came on top of me but in the 69 position. When her vulva was level with my mouth I started licking and she responded by taking my penis into her mouth. This was just too much to resist. I held her hips and brought her vulva in contact with my mouth and I licked her clitoris. She was hot and apparently wanted a better lick. She got on her knees and then she got on her toes in a squatting position with body held up and brought her vulva into proper position for licking. The vulva looks different when viewed from below with the girl's thighs almost fully spread. The clitoris was no longer a worm peeping from its hole but stood out invitingly which I eagerly accepted by grabbing it in my mouth. I munched and the pose must have brought the sensitive point to the surface for she moaned.

"You are touching the spot brother darling go on, go on" she said. My effort to get her to climax was total. Soon her pelvis was heaving up and down and she moaned and screamed softly as she climaxed.

earnie65
earnie65
162 Followers
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