Quietly tiptoeing through the shop’s front door, she was suddenly greeted by the potent fragrance of sandalwood incense.
The calming trickling sound of the water feature caught her attention, immersing her into the Zen atmosphere.
Her aching body feeling instantly calm. Yet, she cautiously held on to her sense of unease.
A petite lady with beautiful mysterious dark eyes and heavy Thai accent introduced herself as “Pinky”.
Such a cute, innocent nickname that matched her warm smile.
Ushered to the quiet, dark room, the client nervously undressed to just undies, placing herself stomach down on the table with her face fitting perfectly in the little hole. Only a towel to cover her.
“Aaaah!” she quietly sighed with content, letting her weary body relax.
Whispering from the curtains outside the room, Pinky whispered:
“Are you ready?”
The client detected what could have been deemed as a sinister tone but in her vulnerable, half naked position, she chose to ignore it.
“Yes, thanks” she innocently muffled through the hole.
Immediately, drops of oil tickled her back hitting an erogenous zone, causing her jolt with surprise.
Then, the strong, firm hands, started working their way down her tired muscles.
“Aaaah, this is good. REAAAALLY good,” she told herself.
After several minutes of blissful, inviting strokes around her shoulders and back, the little lady leaned down to her ear.
“How’s da puh-reeeshah?” she asked, emphasising the raised intonnation on the last syllable. A ploy to to disguise the evilness.
“Oh, just fine, thanks. Perfect. In fact, you can go a little harder, please”
Feeling euphoric, the client remained oblivious.
In a split second, the gentle hands turned to rolling pins, bulldozing down her muscles, colliding with her bones.
Killing elbows and forearms worked as their murderous pressure like secret weapons.
Pinky leapt onto the table and dug her elbows deep into her victim’s shoulders.
Don’t underestimate the murderous power of The Secret Assasin’s tiny frame yo.
Completely helpless under her duress, unequivocally becoming a victim to the pain, the client tried to ease it with deep, deliberate breaths. To surrender was not an option; to relent was asking for mercy.
Besides, that knot in her left shoulder really needed a good smoothing out.
Eventually the victim sat upright on the table. Like a swift Ninja, Pinky once again lept behind her.
“Raise arms, puh-reeze”
Obeying, the victim was again, defenceless.
To gain maximum momentum, Pinky crouched down, pulling her victim’s arms back and swung them to the left (Oouuuch!). A crack from her lower torso let lose.
Then, to the right (Mary, Jesus, Son of….Yeeow!). Another defining crack.
A few more tugs and pulls, it was suddenly all over.
The Secret Assassin swiftly exited through the curtains leaving the victim in a perilous, dazed state.
Unable to decide whether it was a massacre or a massage, the addiction to pleasure and pain dictated that her return was imminent.
She was booking in for next week, baby.
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