I hadn't had sex in two weeks. Not since the parlor reopened. Not since I had Maxwell in my apartment. Now my massages were short and reasonable. I was working with two other girls and one man, a gay man, and with a manager. A manager. That hadn't been in the contract or, at least, I didn't think it was.
His name was Steven Tabb and he was the go-between for me and the man who had franchised my business. He kept the schedule, set the prices, made sure I didn't go over or under my time. Now my clients would leave disappointed, looking back at me over their shoulders and wondering why. All I could do was look at them sadly and imagine all the money I was losing.
The only one who had more clients than me in those days was Sam. I think it's because women felt comfortable with him, though he had some male clients as well. The other two--Karissa and Jean--had almost no one coming to them. Even I was losing clients. My regulars. My fuck toys. Gone.
Then Tabb called a staff meeting.
"Our employer isn't happy," he said. "He bought this parlor at a premium because he expected business to continue as usual."
Tabb looked at me.
"We can barely keep the lights on," he said.
"If you would allow me to run my business as usual," I said, "I could get results."
"You have employees now, Amy. It's time you trained them."
My heart went cold.
"Train them?"
"I agree with you. You ran this place better than I can. So teach your employees. Get this place on track."
And that was it. Now, Karissa and Jean were shadowing me and any special clients I could have gotten were gone. I was trapped. Now my money flow was gone and, frankly, I missed the sex.
I'd get a client, a new one, and Karissa or Jean would be in the corner of the room, taking notes. On what, I don't know. They were trained. I don't do anything in a regular massage that they don't know how to do.
"What's the secret?" Karissa would say. "How did you make so much money before?"
Karissa was the more careful one, always anxious about losing her job. Her lack of clients really seemed to get to her. She paid close attention to everything I did, desperately trying to improve. I wanted to tell her that it was all a lie, that I wasn't anything special. But I couldn't.
I'd tell them I didn't know. I'd tell them I must have been lucky. None of the new clients came back. They'd all been expecting something I couldn't give them anymore. It was as if I'd lost my touch.
Then, Maxwell came in.
I hadn't seen him in the parlor in months, hadn't seen him at all since we started our private affair. I hadn't seen his name on my schedule but he just strode in, sat down on the bench, and removed his robe.
"I miss this," he said. "I thought I'd come surprise you."
"It isn't like that anymore. I can't."
"I'll pay, of course," he said. I could see his cock twitch against his thigh.
"It isn't-- lie down!"
Just as Maxwell rolled onto his stomach, Karissa walked in. She sat down in her corner.
"Sorry," she said. "Can I sit in again? I want to see that thing you did yesterday for Nick. What did you call it?"
I threw the towel over Maxwell's buttocks.
"It doesn't have a name."
I walked to Maxwell's other side. He gave me a confused look.
"See?" I said.
"I see you've expanded your business?" Maxwell winked. He didn't get it.
Karissa got up from her chair and crossed the room. She had dirty blonde hair and a slim figure. No breasts to speak of but an ass even I was jealous of. She had this air of innocence about her, a face that was always questioning.
"He's hot," she whispered in my ear. "Look at his legs."
Then I had a thought. Maybe I didn't get it. Maybe it was time to "train" Karissa. For the good of the business.
I went back around to Maxwell's other side, out of Karissa's sight.
"Let's try something," I said to him. Then, under my breath, "Go with it."
I started the massage. I oiled his back. I worked my fists into the knots, smoothed out his spine.
In the old days, I'd have nothing on beneath my robe. But now I was wearing panties and stockings. No bra just because I liked to keep my chest free and showing a little cleavage never hurt the tip money. Behind the bench, I reached down and pushed my panties around my ankles. I stepped out of them. Karissa didn't notice, but Maxwell did. His hand was creeping towards the line of my robe, teasing the folds apart.