PART TWO: MRS. HORNIBASTARD #2 IS INTRODUCED TO DIGITAL DEPRAVITIES:
reverendhornibastard
Depraved Deacon of Degeneracy
Continued from PART ONE: https://tuscl.net/discussion.php?id=7503…
Upon returning from to the USA after my prolonged but delightful first business trip to Indonesia, my employer requested that I take a posting to Jakarta. Mrs. Hornibastard #2 (“Susan”) and I agreed to make this move and soon found ourselves house-hunting in Jakarta, staying at the same hotel where I had so thoroughly enjoyed my 40th birthday surprise.
Needless to say, Susan knew nothing about that my recent introduction to the delights of Indonesian digital depravities.
One day, as we were registering at the hotel’s gym, Susan noticed the sign indicating the availability of massage services.
She had no idea what that really meant. But I certainly did.
Susan innocently aske me if she could have a massage. Feigning surprise that they even offered massages at the hotel, I agreed that she could treat herself to a massage if that’s what she wanted.
After our workout, Susan remained behind to enjoy her massage in the spa facility. I assumed that she was not informed that she also had the option of enjoying her massage in our hotel room.
I went back to our room, had a shower and was watching CNN when Susan finally returned.
Naturally, I asked the obvious question as she re-entered our hotel room.
“How was your massage?”
Susan hesitated before replying, “I guess it was OK …. at first.”
“What do you mean it was ‘OK at first?’ Did something go wrong?”
Susan hesitated even longer this time before saying, “Let’s just put it this way: If someone told me that masseuse was a lesbian, I would believe it.”
I stifled my laughter.
“What do you mean? What did she do?”
Susan then described how a very pleasant massage got weird towards the end, starting when her masseuse unceremoniously removed her towel.
“For the first half hour or so, I was on my stomach with a towel draped over me,” Susan explained. Everything was just fine. But after about 30 or 40 minutes, the masseuse told me to flip over onto my back,” Susan continued.
“I did as she asked me to. But within a minute or so she pulled my towel off me and let it fall to the floor.” Susan was clearly upset about this. “I didn’t know why she did that or what to do about it. So I just closed my eyes and pretended nothing had happened.”
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7091
Susan looked up at the ceiling of our hotel room as if to find the words she wanted to utter next.
“After she massaged my shoulders, she started massaging my boobs,” Susan said in a dismayed tone while I again struggled to restrain my urge to laugh.
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7092
“Fortunately, the boob massage didn’t last too long and then she started massaging my abdomen. I didn’t see much point to having my tummy massaged. All it did was make me worry that I was going to have to fart.”
I could not help but laugh at that comment.
“But when she finished massaging my abdomen, she started trying to massage my pussy!”
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7094
I could not ever recall seeing Susan so mortified about anything.
“I pushed her hands away and told her to stop. She did for a while and started massaging my legs. But when she was massaging my thighs, she wanted me to spread my legs and started reaching up towards my pussy again.” Susan seemed to be near tears.
“I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want to cause a scene but I wasn’t comfortable having her touch me like that,” Susan explained as she reached for a tissue to dab her eyes.
“But when she started putting her fingers into my pussy and trying to massage anything and everything she could find in there, that was the last straw!”
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7093
Susan had gotten past her humiliation and was now angry about what she had just been put through.
“I finally sat up, pushed her away and left!”
“Wow!” I said while still imagining the scene Susan was describing.
“Do you want to file a complaint with hotel management?”
“No!” Susan practically screamed. “It was hard enough for me to tell you about it. I couldn’t bear to tell anyone else! I just want to forget about this!”
“I guess that means you won’t be having any more massages here at this hotel,” I said, trying my best to sound concerned.
“Hell no!” Susan snorted back.
But women have a habit of changing their minds about everything.
Next up … Susan (Mrs. Hornibastard #2) Has a Change of Heart …
Upon returning from to the USA after my prolonged but delightful first business trip to Indonesia, my employer requested that I take a posting to Jakarta. Mrs. Hornibastard #2 (“Susan”) and I agreed to make this move and soon found ourselves house-hunting in Jakarta, staying at the same hotel where I had so thoroughly enjoyed my 40th birthday surprise.
Needless to say, Susan knew nothing about that my recent introduction to the delights of Indonesian digital depravities.
One day, as we were registering at the hotel’s gym, Susan noticed the sign indicating the availability of massage services.
She had no idea what that really meant. But I certainly did.
Susan innocently aske me if she could have a massage. Feigning surprise that they even offered massages at the hotel, I agreed that she could treat herself to a massage if that’s what she wanted.
After our workout, Susan remained behind to enjoy her massage in the spa facility. I assumed that she was not informed that she also had the option of enjoying her massage in our hotel room.
I went back to our room, had a shower and was watching CNN when Susan finally returned.
Naturally, I asked the obvious question as she re-entered our hotel room.
“How was your massage?”
Susan hesitated before replying, “I guess it was OK …. at first.”
“What do you mean it was ‘OK at first?’ Did something go wrong?”
Susan hesitated even longer this time before saying, “Let’s just put it this way: If someone told me that masseuse was a lesbian, I would believe it.”
I stifled my laughter.
“What do you mean? What did she do?”
Susan then described how a very pleasant massage got weird towards the end, starting when her masseuse unceremoniously removed her towel.
“For the first half hour or so, I was on my stomach with a towel draped over me,” Susan explained. Everything was just fine. But after about 30 or 40 minutes, the masseuse told me to flip over onto my back,” Susan continued.
“I did as she asked me to. But within a minute or so she pulled my towel off me and let it fall to the floor.” Susan was clearly upset about this. “I didn’t know why she did that or what to do about it. So I just closed my eyes and pretended nothing had happened.”
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7091
Susan looked up at the ceiling of our hotel room as if to find the words she wanted to utter next.
“After she massaged my shoulders, she started massaging my boobs,” Susan said in a dismayed tone while I again struggled to restrain my urge to laugh.
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7092
“Fortunately, the boob massage didn’t last too long and then she started massaging my abdomen. I didn’t see much point to having my tummy massaged. All it did was make me worry that I was going to have to fart.”
I could not help but laugh at that comment.
“But when she finished massaging my abdomen, she started trying to massage my pussy!”
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7094
I could not ever recall seeing Susan so mortified about anything.
“I pushed her hands away and told her to stop. She did for a while and started massaging my legs. But when she was massaging my thighs, she wanted me to spread my legs and started reaching up towards my pussy again.” Susan seemed to be near tears.
“I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want to cause a scene but I wasn’t comfortable having her touch me like that,” Susan explained as she reached for a tissue to dab her eyes.
“But when she started putting her fingers into my pussy and trying to massage anything and everything she could find in there, that was the last straw!”
https://tuscl.net/photo.php?id=7093
Susan had gotten past her humiliation and was now angry about what she had just been put through.
“I finally sat up, pushed her away and left!”
“Wow!” I said while still imagining the scene Susan was describing.
“Do you want to file a complaint with hotel management?”
“No!” Susan practically screamed. “It was hard enough for me to tell you about it. I couldn’t bear to tell anyone else! I just want to forget about this!”
“I guess that means you won’t be having any more massages here at this hotel,” I said, trying my best to sound concerned.
“Hell no!” Susan snorted back.
But women have a habit of changing their minds about everything.
Next up … Susan (Mrs. Hornibastard #2) Has a Change of Heart …
3 comments
i wonder if she ever shared that story with her close female friends and what their reactions might have been.
Susan insists that she never told anyone that story.
I have serious doubts about that, especially since her views on the topic evolved considerably during our stay in Indonesia.