In Dubai, “Full body massage” typically means back, arms, hands, legs, feet, head and for some reason, stomach. (The worst bit because you never feel tension in your stomach, so it’s just completely unnecessary.)
So when I booked a full body massage in Goa, I assumed it was pretty much the same. I heard that they did massage your butt, and although I was a bit nervous about it, I was like, “Why not, all those hours sitting in an office chair, it’s probably lost its shape! A massage wouldn’t hurt.”
So I stepped into this room that, I kid you not, looked like that scene from Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It had a table and this light was focused right on it, and it really looked like people should get chopped up on that table.
I was so distracted by the table I almost didn't hear her say, “Ma’am, please remove all your clothes and wear this,” and hand me what looked like a rolled up strip of fabric.
“Um, what? Can't I leave my underwear on?”
“No ma’am, the oil will ruin it.”
“That's okay, I don’t mind. “
“Ma’am please just remove everything.”
“Okay…fine,” I relented.
I spent a few minutes struggling, trying to figure out how to put on the weird fabric strip.
“Ma’am, please let me help you.”
She tied the thread around my waist and took the fabric and looped it from the front to the back, like a crude makeshift thong.
“…Are you sure I can’t just wear my underwear?”
“Yes, ma’am. Now get on the table.”
I awkwardly climbed on and adjusted myself until I was face down so my head was in this donut hole thing.
“Ma’am, lie front-side, please.”
I flopped back awkwardly so that I was now lying on my back.
She started massaging my legs with oil and I told myself to just relax and close my eyes.
They soon flew open in shock when I felt her hands on my breast.
“Um, excuse me, but is that necessary?”
“Yes, ma’am. The oil has to be applied to entire body.”
In my head was an entire barrage of thoughts.
Is there a point telling her to stop?
I mean, I already paid for this.
And she was so insistent on me wearing the damn thong. Doubt she’ll listen to me.
In a few minutes this will be over.
So I gritted my teeth and endured the awkwardness. And in a few minutes (what felt like a few centuries), she moved on to my stomach.
“Hahahahaha, I’m extremely ticklish there, please stop.”
“Ma’am please lie back down.”
“I can’t, it’s a reflex. You stop massaging me there!”
“But the oil has to be applied on entire body," she said, sounding a little exasperated, not paying me any heed.
My tickle reflex was still kicking in, and at any second I would accidentally jerk myself and slide off the table, I was already so slippery.
“Ma’am, time to turn. I do your backside.”
I flopped and slippery-slided around to lie face down.
She massaged the backs of my legs and moved up and massaged my back and butt. Just when I was starting to relax…
Is she seriously slapping my butt cheeks?
Is this even legal?
Oh my God, I just landed myself in the Indian version of 50 Shades of Grey.