Slappy Seconds

Story Sent in by Ray:

I met Kim online. She was a massage therapist. I joked with her at first about her giving me a massage and it progressed to her actually offering to give me one if the first date went well.

The first date did indeed go well, and so I made an appointment for a massage with her. I entered the room, lay down on the table, and she went to work.

At first it felt great. Then she began slapping at my back. Whereas her prior massage actions were relaxing and therapeutic, the slapping was… well… slapping. It was jarring and painful and not at all soothing.

“Ow,” I said, hoping to clue her in that it was hurting. But she kept slapping.

“Can you stop slapping me?” I then asked. She didn’t.

Finally I rolled off the table to face her, but the slapping didn’t stop! She slapped at my chest and face and I backed away. She kept at it until I grabbed her hands and yelled, “Stop slapping me!”

“What’s wrong with you?” she said, wrenching her hands away. “Do you want a massage or don’t you?”

I said, “You’re not massaging me! You’re slapping me!”

Then she swung for my face with another slap, but she missed. I grabbed my clothes and said, “I’m out of here,” and she watched me go. I couldn’t leave there fast enough and I never called her again.