Page 15 of Subbing For Santa

It’s stupid. I know.

Hurrying back inside, I unwrap the gift to find a leather choker with a large stone of some sort embedded in the strap. Then I take out the note.

Wear this with today’s client.

Make sure you service him or her well because I’ll be watching.

My brows reach my hairline as I read over the note again, before I pick up the choker and take a closer look.

Fucking hell. The stone is actually a mini camera. He wants me to wear this so he can watch what I do with my client today. The idea of it is confusing, because I was sure he had cameras everywhere, even though I’m yet to find one. Why would I need to wear this if he has cameras installed?

I’ve spent the better part of my morning searching my entire rental for hidden cameras and have come up empty. I figured they would be big enough to spot if I were looking for them, yet I’ve found nothing.

This would be the time where having a close friend of the female gender would come in handy. Someone to bounce concerns off. Someone to tell me,‘Agatha, there are red flags everywhere about this guy. Cut and run now.’

Hell, I don’t even listen to the rational self-talk in my head.

Instead, I secure the choker around my neck and continue cleaning and setting up for today’s client.

At 2pm, Meagan arrives, and I lead her to the spare room I have set up for my tantric clients. We sit on the oversized cushions on the floor for a few minutes, going over what we did last time, anything she especially liked, or didn’t like, and go over the importance of getting ourselves centred first.

I don’t leave the room for her to undress. We do that in front of each other, ensuring there’s comfort and trust between us. And yes, I feel guilty that she doesn’t know she’s being watched right now by a man I don’t know, but it’s too late to back out, so I pretend the heavy choker isn’t squeezing my neck and carry on.

The light in the room is low, candles are lit, the music is serene and soft. We each stand on a mat facing each other and go through some basic stretches, and then some yoga positions, switching on our breathing.

We move to the cushion pile on the floor then, Meagan laying back, getting into position.

Using oil, I lather it over her naked body, keeping my movements slow and sensual, my voice just above a whisper as I direct her to focus on her breathing and slow it down.

To help her relax and get centred, I start my massage on her arms and legs before moving to her breasts and abdomen. This is where the magic starts to happen. Sexual energy stirs. And to help it along, I run my hands over her belly, applying sensual pressure, then run them back up to her breasts to work over her nipples. After doing this a few times, I hear her breathing deepen, so I move the massage lower.

Some women are able to reach their pleasure from a tantric breast massage alone, but Meagan is booked in for a yoni massage, which means the ultimate focus needs to be on her clit and g-spot.

She keeps her breathing slow and deep, falling into the meditative state as I stimulate her body. I circle her clit, nice and slow, before changing technique to push and pull on it, increasing and releasing pressure. Soft moans float up into the room as Meagan starts to build more pleasure within her, and I shift my technique to tug at her clit between two fingers and then roll it to apply pressure.

I use a little tapping technique but don’t do a lot of this because she doesn’t seem to respond as well as some do. When her hips start to lift, seeking more, I slide two fingers inside her, easily finding the swell of her g-spot, and curl my digits, grazing them over the spot, while returning attention to her clit, using my thumb this time.

The entire process lasts just over forty minutes, and the orgasm she reaches is long, drawn out, and incredibly intense.

When it’s over, Meagan stays laying down for a few minutes, catching her breath and letting her body ease out of its meditative state. It really is a full mind and body experience, and I’m yet to have an unhappy customer.

I used to get turned on by my sessions in the beginning, but now the tantra massage I offer is nothing but a way for me to earn money, and my clients aren’t interested in me joining in on the fun. They are there for release. Stress relief. Therapy. Much like a regular relaxation massage, just with a focus on tantra.

As soon as Meagan leaves, Santa’s phone rings, and I hurry to answer it in time.

“What do you call what you just did?”

Jesus. Will I ever get used to the deep rasp of his voice?

“Tantra massage.” I clear my throat. “Specifically, a yoni massage.”

“Yoni massage?” he asks, sounding curious.

“Yes. It’s where the focus is on the woman’s sex.”

I pad through the little house and flop down on my couch, feeling exhausted from needing to be focused for so long.

“Why all the other stuff before that?” Santa asks. “The stretching and the upper body massage.”

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