Dream weaver

Once I finish getting ready for work I grab my helmet and head out the door. When I first started out as a massage therapist I worked right out of my house. It wasn’t much and my room was small to work in, but my clients were more than willing to come to my house for their treatment. There they could be as comfortable as they liked and go to the sectioned off room where I preformed the massages. That changed however when one of my clients came up to me and asked me if I would help him start a spa. At first I was skeptical about it. I was used to the surroundings of my house and had things arranged the way I wanted for my massages. The more I thought about it however the more I realized that I was turning myself into a hermit. I realized that I couldn’t keep dwelling in the past. It was time I got out of the house for a change. So now I am a co-owner of a day-spa in downtown London.

Parking my Honda Shadow out back, I make my way into the building. “Morning Mike.” I call out as I put my jacket and helmet in my locker. “Hey Kelly, your expresso is on your desk.” “Thanks Mike.” Mike, my partner, has known me for quite some time now. No I haven’t known him all my life, but I have known him since I moved to the city from my small town. He is one of the few people who have been around me on my birthday, so he knows how plastered I tend to get. Ever since he found out about my exploits he tends to leave me alone and makes sure that I have the whole day off. One thing that he does for me that I really appreciate is he makes sure that the next day I have a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me. Either he has it on my desk when I come to work or sometimes he will bring it to my door and then we’ll hang out for a while and play video games. Yes I know I’m 26 but I still like to play my video games. They help me unwind when I’m having a rough day.

Cracking my knuckles, I set down to my desk and check out my schedule for the day. “Hmmm five full body massages and two chair massages, that doesn’t look too bad for one day.” Picking up my coffee I head to the back area of the spa and turn towards Mike. “Hey Mike, I’m going to go set up. Could you tell Tom when he gets here to head to the massage room?” “Not a problem Kell. He should be here in about 10 minutes.” “Thanks Mike.” Grabbing my sheets and massage oils I make my way to my massage room. My room here is much larger than the room I had set up at my apartment. In the middle of the room is my massage table with my massage oils sitting in their holster. Spreading the sheets and blankets over the table I make sure to get everything where I need it. While I’m bending down to take off my shoes I don’t notice someone opening the door to the room.

“GOOD MORNING!!!” I jump up and spin around to see the smirking face of Tom.

“Damn it Tom. How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?”

“Every bloody time you see me. So, want me to get on the table?”

“Yup you know the drill.” I step out of the room and take another drink of my coffee. One thing I learned while taking the massage therapy course is that the masseuse should leave the room while their client gets undressed and on the table. This way you can’t be accused of sexually harassing a client. A blanket covers the client’s private parts so you can’t get in trouble for exposing them. Depending on the person, I don’t usually have long to wait, but sometimes I have enough time to finish a cup of coffee. I wait outside the door until I hear Tom calling out letting me know that he is ready for me to come back into the room.

Strapping my oil holster around my waist I head into the room to get started. Tom was one of my first customers when I first moved to London. At first he was very shy about having someone, other than family, give him a massage, but with enough bugging from Brad, his husband, he finally got the nerve to set up an appointment. After that first time we became fast friends. Sometimes we go with a group of friends to the bar on Friday nights to sing kaeroke. I don’t usually drink when we go out, since normally I’m the designated driver. Yes I do get drunk but not usually at the bar. I figure that if I get drunk at home I can’t do something stupid that will get me arrested.

“So Kell, what you up to tonight?”
“Not much why?”
“Well it’s Brad and my anniversary tomorrow and we’re getting the gang together tonight for dinner. I was wondering if you’d like to come”
“You won’t try to set me up again this time will you? You know I don’t like that.”
“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He says as he turns his head up to look at me.
“Tom you know I don’t like it when people do that.”
“Oh come one Kelly. At least give her a chance. You haven’t even met her yet.”
“I’m already not liking where this is going.”
“Look, she is just a friend that we invited to the party. It isn’t a blind date this time I promise you.”
*Sigh* “Alright I’ll go. Just don’t expect anything to come of it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it Love. I remember what happened the last time.”
“Ugg don’t remind me. She was a bitch on wheels.”
“I’m sorry Kell. I didn’t realize she was going to be so abusive to you.”
“You know I like pain. She just took it too far. I’m just glad you guys came and helped me when it got bad.”
“Sure was fun dragging her ass to the police that night.”
“That it was.”
Yes I have tried to date since the incident with Rachael happened. My first relationship was ok but we realized that we were just too different to be with each other. We separated on good terms and I still keep in touch. She has now moved to America and is living with her girlfriend somewhere in Washington. They are planning on getting married sometime next June. I’ve been asked to sing at the wedding, so I will be getting a plane ticket and head over seas once again. The second one was defiantly not who she seemed to be. Out in front of people she was the sweetest gentlest person you could meet. When you got her alone however she was a bitch.

At first it was just once in a while if I said something smart she would slap me. That didn’t bother me. What bothered me was when she would come home drunk and decide to beat on me in any way possible. I could have stopped it, don’t know why I didn’t. Finally I realized what I had gotten myself into. It was time to end the relationship. I sat her down that day and proceeded to tell her why I didn’t want to date her any more. The slap, that I was expecting, came. What I didn’t expect was for her to come back that night drunk off her ass. She was swinging her whisky bottle around like crazy. At first I was just dodging, but then I decided that if I were going to press charges against her I would need proof of what she had been doing. I let her get one good nock in before I swept her legs out from under her. Pinning her to the floor, I pulled my cell phone out of my coat and called Tom to come and help me.

I didn’t realize how hard I had let her hit me until Tom came bursting through my front door. He took one look at my face and about had a fit. “Christ, Kell you’re bleeding” Taking my hand up to my eyebrow I gather some of the blood on my fingers. “Heh, Bitch hit harder than I thought. You’re lucky I don’t feel like making you bleed pup. Blood always tastes the best from a fresh kill.” Casually I lick the blood off of my fingers. I chuckle darkly as I watch her tremble in fear from my threat. “I think, however, I’ll let the police handle this matter. Tom did you call the police like I asked?” “Yep. They should be here in a couple of minutes. I’m going to go get something to put on that cut for you.” As he moved to get up and get the gauze I grabbed his hand stopping him. “No let it bleed for now. We’ll take care of it after the cops have seen it. Then I’m taking you to court sweetie. I hope you have a damn good lawyer, because you’re going to need one.

Needless to say, I had a long messy court case that followed. It was a pretty rough time for me, but all my friends were there for me the whole time. I think what got her in the most trouble was that she tried to accuse me of steeling from her. She tried to say that my motorcycle belonged to her along with the antique punch bowl set that my mom gave to me when I moved away from home. When asked to show the judge the title to my motorcycle I was more than happy to oblige. I had paid for that motorcycle with my own money and the only name on the title was mine. When the judge saw this and showed it to the jury I knew that I had won the case. She was charged with assault and battery and they filed a restraining order against her. I don’t really know what happened to her since then, and I don’t really care either. She can rot for all I care anymore.

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Well here\'s another chapter out of the way. Whew. No lemon in this one but don\'t worry there will be more in the later chapters.


Hope you like.
Aninzu