“Mr. Shaw, we’re ready for you.” The young blonde masseuse said with a smile. I rose from my chair in the chiropractor’s office, ready for my appointment. I was not only going to get a regular adjustment, but on this particular day, a massage as well. I had been looking very forward to it, as my back had been hurting some. I followed the young masseuse down the hall, leaving the reception area, the other people waiting, and the hispanic man at the desk. As we entered the dimly lit room, I prepared myself for what was to come.
Now, I tend to be a bit squemish when it comes to massages. Particularly in the neck area. But this was good for me, I told myself, my back always felt better after, and my back was being properly adjusted. The combination of someone I don’t know touching me in a way that most people don’t and me laying with my shirt off, facedown on a table was almost too much to bear. But I managed to get past it, convinced that the benefits were worth the discomfort.
I promptly removed my shirt and took my place facedown on the table. The girl put a few pumps of lotion in her hand and began to work out the knots in my back and neck, her hands kneading my back gently. Once I was able to get past my own squemish-ness, I have to admit, the massage felt pretty good. My back was tight and it felt great to have it loosened up a bit. The masseuse continued to work her magic for several more minutes, loosening me up before the doctor would come in and adjust my back. “Okay, the doctor will be right in.” She said as she picked up her clipboard and walked out the door.
I remained facedown on the table. No shirt. I felt strange laying there. Half naked in a darkened room lying on a table is a strange feeling. I lay there patiently waiting. Soon the doctor would come in. She would re-adjust my back and I would be ready to go. I was anxiously waiting for her to come so I could get re-dressed and get on with my day. Finally, the door creaked open. In my position on the table, I was unable to see anything other than the floor. I could hear the doctor walk in quietly. Going over to the where the lotions were, she seemed to be getting more lotion, as if to give me another massage. I thought this a bit strange, since I had already had my massage, but it did feel good, so I kept quiet. As the doctor began to massage my back, something felt strange. I had had several appointments with her before and knew the feeling of her hands on my back. But these hands were different. These were bigger. These were rougher. These hands were most certainly not the doctor’s.