Madam Ebony Unwinds

Gregor pressed hard on the steaming flannel on Madam Ebony’s back, forcing it down her spine to her lower back, just before the crack of her buttocks. He then dipped it back in the ‘boiling water’ and repeated this a few times.

After this, he placed his special basalt stones in the same ‘boiling’ water before kneading Madam Ebony’s dough-like muscles, using a contrast of brutal and delicate hand strokes, his cocktail of oils ensuring a smooth diffusion of energy from his hands to her soul.

Madam Ebony never tired of Gregor’s dexterous talents. Gregor never tired of Madam Ebony’s business. She was always generous and it inspired him to new heights of deftness. He often thought of meandering beneath the buttock line, his hands often teasing and tempting her lower back then receding back up her spine. Madam Ebony also often thought of his hands plunging a little lower. Part of her fantasised about these outrageous but tantalizing thoughts, but for the sake of sanity it remained just that, fantasy. She was not going to compromise herself by stooping too low. Strange but the feelings became pronounced only because decency was preserved and Gregor never crossed her boundaries. If he did she would probably unleash her wrath on him. Deep down they both understood this. They had a mutual respect which always obeyed the rules of common sense. There was only one exception. Looking. Greg’s eyes focused on her curves, her full buttocks. Since Madam Ebony could not see him as he worked, he indulged indiscriminately with his eyes. He probably knew her contours better than her, having navigated them many times. She was by far his favourite client. She seemed to relish pain with so much exuberance that it inspired him to extend the threshold each time she came.

One thing was certain, she found solace within the seductive manipulations of his fingers. She escaped from the tribulations of the morning and slipped into an enclave of feigned tranquil. She was hoping to think more clearly but uncannily misjudged the distractive powers of her self-inflicted eroticism. Eroticism was the message whispered by Gregor’s fingertips, a message she heard and relished through millions of receptive nerve centres up and down her spine. It was a huge mental struggle to multi-task these sensations with Uju’s dilemma, in the end succumbing to the intense contrast in relaxing and stimulating pleasure she was receiving from the ‘artist’ in Gregor.

She bit her lip as he extended her threshold again. After his vigorous routine faded out through tender caresses, Gregor paused for thirty seconds before placing the first piping hot stone on her back. Then in a cruel twist, he placed an icy cold one straight after it. The shock forced a sharp contraction, causing her eyes to spring open in surprise. She grimaced fiercely, tightening her back in reflex, something you’re not supposed to do. Gregor slapped her back playfully. ‘Relax’ his hands were saying as she writhed, her back arching slightly, her towel falling just below her buttocks, exposing her crack and causing an inadvertent intake of air from Gregor. That was not his plan but he didn’t complain. His eyes bulged slightly, forcing a smile. Madam still had it he thought to himself in his native Ukrainian language.

After a few seconds of gawping, Gregor did the decent thing and pulled Madam Ebony’s towel back in place. He reckoned it was better he did than wait for Madam Ebony to do it herself.

Madam Ebony sighed. She had realised her towel had shifted and didn’t do anything. She enjoyed teasing and could picture Gregor looking her over which made her smile. It was her way of repaying him for his erotic pummelling. She knew he admired her, admired her body. The twinkle in his eyes needed no words. She was proud of it and revelled in any opportunity to remind herself that she still had it. Gregor was also a nice subject. He made it all the more intriguing with his lack of English, forcing a touch of added creativity which was fun, especially in a safe place like Uncle Tembo’s.

Gregor continued to place the hot and cold stones strategically on Madam Ebony’s back. He lay them on acupressure points, places that release the flow of energy, promoting the body's healing. He would push the stones down on the acupressure points, the heat helping with blood flow, creating deep muscle relaxation. After this, he would use them on her back, moving them in tight circles on specific points, each stone floating on a film of aromatherapy oils.

When he finished, Madam Ebony protested. She asked him for another thirty minutes. She needed to unwind from the sweet torture she had just been subjected to. She signalled to his chart, pointing at an image for a Swedish massage, a mild gentle relaxing experience. Gregor nodded and proceeded to mix his special lightly scented aromatherapy oils which he would use to knead and untangle her muscles and convey them into a state of sweet relaxation using soft, sweeping motions. The rhythm was so soothing, causing Madam Ebony to slowly drift off into a dizzy dreamy place inhabited by princes and princesses in regal gowns, adorned with glittering diamonds, dancing in glass shoes and surrounded by snowflakes of white roses that cascaded down rainbows that overflowed from the heavens.