One of the original patrons of the pussy massage parlor was a woman who knew the rules when she was accepted as a client -- only would have hands on her and nothing else. She would need to facilitate her own relaxation and then energy and tension on her own against my steady and capable hands and fingers, but I would remain aloof and only vaguely interested, only as doing a good thing for her and definitely not motivated beyond that, especially not for any of my own carnal benefit.

But this woman kept trying to break the rules. Kept beckoning. Kept pushing her hips up into my hand, to reach out open for them. Kept saying undignified things out loud. "Please fuck me." "I need it so badly." And so on. She knew that behavior would be disqualifying, and so it was. Had to remove my hands and leave her to writhe on the table, calling out and pleading. Claiming she'd be good.

June decided that I should give in, being corrupted and aroused by her despite the best of intentions. But I was annoyed that the client having done this to me, that she needed to be taught a lesson. No more catering to her on her behalf. I would act only for myself, to take from her whatever I wanted. And to do it deliciously slowly, because she was being so eager and needy. Make her really truly cry out in need and to then ignore it. If she happened to gain pleasure from some action of mine, then this time it'd be by accident instead of by design.

Strangely though, she was eager to come back to the parlor weekly, and the dynamic remained the same. First swearing to be good, but "failing." I knew what to do, though, and had harsher punishments planned and enacted. Yet still the she came.

In one particular story, the misbehaving woman brought a shy acquaintance, someone she asserted knew what the service was intended and was the perfect candidate for, but was too shy to ask for and partake of it on her own. When they arrived, the guest got cold feet, so the existing client offered to go first -- to show her that it was all decent and worthwhile. I had curtains I could draw around the massage table, so we all agreed that the guest should lay on the second table (where GF's persona would usually oversee during the misbehaving woman's treatment and punishments), but with the curtains drawn, separating the two. She just wanted to be able to hear the delivery of services and that it stayed "above board."

It started out well enough. The misbehaving woman started out better behaved than usual, relaxing and being in the moment within herself, and I could focus on just how I felt her body respond to simple, pure touch.

But then, like usual, she started acting up. It was so frustrating -- she was ruining the good impression her friend was going to have of what could be done here!

So I removed my hands from her, and said that her time was up, and she'll have to remain agitated alone. That she'd need to wait there until her friend's session was through and that she mustn't get up from the table or be touching herself while I was away. She needed to sit in "time out, and just listen."

I passed behind the curtain to the other table. I apologized for her friend's behavior, that it isn't supposed to go like that and so on. She said she understood completely, and that she was ready to try it out. She trusted me and it had been so long since she'd been with anyone, that it would feel so good and be such a relief that she'd not need to do anything amiss. Misbehaver said something like "Yay!," and we both hushed her.

The guest did behave well. It was easy to tell that she had been starving. She wet so quickly to my touch. Her pulse raced. Her breath aligned with the strokes on her vulva so nicely. She was what the service was for. When I started the squeezing technique, she melted away.

But the misbehaver heard and felt it too. The arousal somehow wafted through the curtain and drove misbehaver wild. It was as if she could feel every single thing the guest was feeling, with guest's own desperate need mixing with misbehaver's lust and wantonness. But misbehaver could not keep it to herself like new woman could. She moaned and licked her lips and acted out worse than ever.

She needed to be taught a lesson yet again, one that she'd remember and take to heart. One that she'd go away limping with unresolved tension, and wouldn't dare return until she would be able to follow the rules, because the what was left in her would weigh so heavily she'd never choose to bear it again.

I whispered into the new woman's ear. What I suggested to her was something ill thought out and in the heat of the moment and not for the best intentions of the service, but misbehaver needed to be taught. And, well, the guest would benefit from it as well, if she was so inclined and felt she was agreeing with her full faculties and would not regret it tomorrow. She agreed readily with a wry little smile. I whispered her the full plan, then we drew the curtain back.

Unknown to misbehaver, since her last visit, I had installed straps at the sides of her table. I didn't think they'd be necessary this visit, in that I figured that she wouldn't dare show her true nature in front of her acquaintance. We bound her wrists and feet to the corners of the table with only just a little bit of slack.

Then her friend sat up on the end of the table, between misbehaver's bound ankles. I approached her, gently pushed her knees apart, then kissed her mouth with confidence showing her a bit of intent. We both knew that misbehaver would feel it too, transmitted down good woman's body, past her aching nipples, swirling through her pelvis, then down to her ass and legs, touching misbehaver's calves. As we kissed, I restarted her pussy massage. This time standing between her legs, erect and willing.

After just a few minutes of this, she said she was ready. She said it confidently and loudly, making sure that both misbehaver and I heard it. She turned around and crawled up the table a bit, then lowered her head onto misbehaver's belly and turned her face to the side, her forearms on the table and hands gripped the sides. She drew her knees forward and lowered her ass down, spreading herself wide, hungry and inviting. Perhaps some of misbehaver's spirit had flowed into her some.

I removed my pants, and brought myself close to her lips. She lowered herself down onto me. She was delicious, so wet and warm. She shuddered and cried out with each thrust. And misbehaver had to experience it all -- hear and feel such need, but not be granted the fulfillment that the guest and I had.

When we finished, guest's body was calm and relaxed. Muscles were soft. I had to be creative in handling the both of them, but the service worked where it was most deserved. Misbehaver was pouty and spiteful when we unstrapped her, but I think I finally taught her the lesson she needed.