Maria the Masseuse by Ken Earl Ken's pal Ted falls into the clutches of a very strong woman ----------------------------------------------------------------------- FEEDBACK WELCOME - Email Ken_Earl_2003@hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------ This story follows on from ROSIE the BRICKLAYER (but Rosie's not in it!) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Please note - "Jimmy" is slang for "Jimmy Riddle" = piddle,piss etc ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Roy, Ted and I had just come into the HART & HOUNDS, to warm up with a couple of pints before the quiz started. This was a fortnightly ritual. On the previous quiz-night Roy had told us how,as a young lad working on a building site, he had been shagged by a strong and sexy bricklayer named Rosie. As we stood in momentary silence, observing the splendidly-endowed Elsie pulling pints, Ted said out of the blue "You know ,Roy, that story you told us last week about Rosie - well ,for what it's worth, I had a similar experience with a masseuse". I burst out laughing. "Massage? Is that what she called it?" I said. "I reckon it's worth a pint of Best!", said Ted. "Three pints of Best when you're ready, Elsie, if you please" he said and placed his money on the bar. "Sit down, lads" replied the buxom barmaid, "I'll bring 'em over". We sat down at our regular table. It's a strange feeling to sit down in a pub without a glass in your hand, I find. I felt like a vegetarian who had wandered by mistake into a butcher's shop, and I fumbled nervously with a beermat. Roy studied the label of a beer-bottle which I knew for a fact he could barely see, let alone read, without his glasses. Ted, after carefully removing his coat and placing it over the back of his chair, began to defend the afore-mentioned masseuse. "No, Ken" he said, "Maria was qualified to give massage, but I'm jumping ahead of myself. This all happened when I worked for that department store that used to be in the High Street". Ted paused, trying to recall the name. "Allbrooks" said Roy obligingly. "That's it!" Ted went on. I used to go out on the delivery-lorry with Big George - do you remember him, Ken?" I nodded. He was a big, amiable bloke who liked a pint or five - must have been at least 15 stone. At this point Elsie arrived with our drinks, which she carried in her hands - no tray for Elsie - she was like those German barmaids you see at the Bier festivals!. Elsie was a 5' 6" blonde (this week) of about 40, with a huge pair of boobs. The casual punter would fix his gaze exclusively on her cleavage, failing to observe that she also had a powerful , if slightly flabby physique. She had wide shoulders, which made her waist seem small, and she had at least a 40 inch chest (and I am talking about the under-the-bust measurement!) Her legs, by contrast,were trim and her feet were small, so that the description TOP-HEAVY fitted her perfectly. "There you go!" she said, putting down the glasses. "Wrestle you for the change,Roy?" - it was the best part of a pound. A charity tin for the local Hospice had recently been placed on the bar and Elsie was determined to fill it. Having seen Elsie in action the result was a foregone conclusion. The part of Roy that liked strong women tussled momentarily with the natural skinflint in him. Surprisingly, the skinflint lost. "All in a good cause!" he said, offering his arm. Elsie's hand was smaller than Roy's but her wrist was much thicker, as was her forearm. Under the flesh of her soft-looking upper-arm lurked formidable muscles. (Rumour had it that she had once been a tag-team wrestler!) They went at it on the count of three - Elsie pretended to struggle for a few seconds, then her arm swelled up as she powered Roy's arm to the table. "Better luck next time!" said Elsie giving Roy a big hug, his bald head pressing into her massive cleavage so that, from where I was sitting she appeared briefly to have three huge tits instead of two!. We watched Elsie undulate her way back to the bar - then Ted carried on with his story. Ted's tale ----------- It was a Saturday in January, freezing cold, the last delivery of the day - the week even!. Big George and me were knackered, on account of it being the January Sales - busiest time of the year, naturally. Anyway, George pulled up outside this block of flats and told me to make sure that the customer was in and to see if the lifts were working. To give you an idea of how dodgey the neighbourhood was - we were parked next to a burned-out wreck, and there was broken glass everywhere. It was already dark, and there was little light coming from the block - most of the ground-floor flats were boarded-up. As soon as I stepped out of the warm cab, the freezing cold bit into my face and hands, and I immediately felt the need for a Jimmy (the sudden change of temperature always does that to me!). I sprinted across to the block of flats and went into the lobby, where I was confronted by a battered OUT-OF-ORDER sign in front of the lift and the overpowering smell of urine. This was par-for-the-course in that particular neck-of-the-woods and SOD'S LAW for a poor delivery-man. Cursing, I ran up four flights of stairs to number 46 where, according to the delivery docket, a Miss Maria Binic - the proud owner of a brand-new Hotpoint fridge/freezer - resided. As we were well-late I half-expected her to be out, but no - a 5 ft 2" brunette of about my age (I was 25 by the way) answered the door. She was wearing a tracksuit and was looking quite flushed as if she'd been exercising. She was handsome, rather than pretty, with blue eyes and a strong jawline.She had an athletic build, with wide-ish shoulders for such a small woman, but the track-suit effectively concealed her entire body from the neck down. "Good afternoon, madam. Allbrooks." I said through chattering teeth. "You're late!", she said and folded her arms like a schoolteacher who's waiting to hear an errant schoolboy's feeble excuse. "Sorry, madam" I pleaded "the traffic is very heavy!" - This was complete bollocks, of course - we'd been to watch the West Ham versus Chelsea football match. "OK..., well you are here now" she said, with a strong accent - Eastern European, I guessed. I leaned over the balcony and signalled to George, who signalled back and began to get out of the cab, very carefully, because of his bad back - an occupational hazard for someone who spends their working life humping furniture and washing-machines in and out of lorries. As I watched, George's foot slipped on the footplate and he dropped heavily to the ground. There was a loud cry of pain, followed by a string of expletives. Maria looked over the balcony to see what was going on. "Wait just one moment" she said, seeing that I was about to take off down the stairs. She disappeared into the flat and emerged seconds later with her front-door keys. Slamming the door she raced down the stairs ahead of me and I could barely keep-up (well, I did have a dodgey knee - that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!). "It's gone again, Ted!" , said George through gritted teeth. "You'll have to drive me home, son. I'll be off for days!" "I am qualified masseuse" said Maria. "You want I fix your back?" George hesitated. "What, here?" he said, incredulous. "Oh, no, of course not. It is too cold here. We must get you up to my flat!" "Shall I take his arms and you take his legs?" I asked. "It's OK" she said confidently "I will carry." As it turned out, George, being bent over double, was already in the perfect position to be easily carried by one person - assuming that person was short but extremely strong! Maria crouched down and lifted the astonished George in a fireman's carry. "No problems!" she said, smiling "he is not so heavy!" "You wait here, please, Ted. I come back and we fetch fridge." "Don't forget the keys to the lorry!" George called to me as he disappeared towards the flats on the strong shoulders of the diminutive Maria. Sure enough, she was back within a few minutes, and hardly seemed out of breath. "Don't look so surprised! In Poland I was powerlifter. I am very strong for my size - maybe I show you some time?" she said mischievously. Well, as far as I was concerned, she'd already shown me by carrying Big George, but she astonished me further by leaping into the back of the lorry and woman-handling the fridge onto the tailboard without my help. As for carrying it inside, she insisted on being at the back thereby taking most of the weight. My male pride was a little bit put out. She was at least a stone lighter but far stronger than me - but what was I gonna do? Arm-wrestle her for it? We started up the four flights of stairs and I was absolutely desperate for a piss by this time. As luck would have it, as we were going up a group of yobs was coming down. There were six young lads between 15 and 17 - the two biggest were in front talking loudly. They were all wearing the regulation flash trainers and tracksuits with the hoods up, as I recall. When they saw us they started whispering amongst themselves and, as we got to the first landing they fell silent and just stood there. We put the fridge down and waited for them to walk by us, but they seemed intent on blocking our ascent. "You can't go no further mate, stairway's closed!" said the Alpha moron. The gang laughed, on cue. I thought, or rather I hoped, that they were just joking around. "Very funny, lads!" I said. "Come on, let us by - this thing is f****ing heavy!" Alpha and Beta came to stand threateningly in front of me. "We ain't trying to be funny, mate!" said the 2nd in command, "Are YOU?" and he poked me in the chest. So it looked as if they were just looking for an excuse to give someone (namely me) a good kicking! Suddenly I felt this excruciating pain in my arm - Maria had grabbed it to stop me retaliating - "Take no notice" she said gently to me . Then, to the yobs - "It is cold, we are in hurry, stand on side please!" "F*** off!" said one of the younger yobs, from the safety of the rear. "Yeah!" said the leader, not to be outdone. "You can't even speak proper English. F*** off back to where you come from!" Then he gave her a shove - or at least he tried to. Although he was at least 8 inches taller than her, he sort-of bounced away, but her feet barely moved. Of course, he was annoyed by this and came back for another go. As he pushed at her shoulders she lifted him slightly under the elbows and swung him round in a circle. He crashed painfully into the metal stair-rail and, before he could recover his balance, Maria was on him and tilted him backwards over the banister with her left arm, trapping his legs with her body. Alpha was now staring into space - there was nothing but air between him and the basement floor far below. Only the strength of Maria's left arm prevented him from dropping. "Don't let go! Don't let go!" he hollered, and tried frantically to grab a hold of her left arm, but she used her right hand to foil his attempts. The gang were all rooted to the spot with fear. My stomach was churning too - if she'd let go he would've fallen on his nut onto concrete! Maria, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned. In fact, she was like a cat toying with a mouse. She waited until he was too tired to struggle any more. "Please, please " sobbed Alpha , more like a child now. "You do not want I ..how do you say .. F*** OFF ?" "No, no, I didn't mean it!" "OK Tell your friends to leave flats . NOW!" "Get lost, you lot!" he yelled frantically. When the underlings had departed Maria pulled Alpha back from the brink. I noticed that the little turd had a dark stain running down his leg - served him right. "You have more things to say to me?" she said evenly. He shook his head, afraid to speak or even look her in the eye. "Fine!" she said "Now we shake hand and you can go" . Having just had a sample of her grip, I guessed what she was up to. Sure enough, as soon as she took Alpha's hand he was on his knees, begging her to stop. "I did not want your friends to see this" she said, "but now you know how much I can hurt you, yes?. You stay away, yes?" "Yeah,yeah!" he whimpered. Only then did she release her grip, at which point he scrambled clear on his hands and knees before racing away. Needless to say Maria, myself and the fridge reached her flat without further mishap, and I was able to relieve my bladder at long last. Maria made us a hot drink and told me not to worry about Big George - he would be fit for work on Monday. She seemed really confident, so I left her to it ,took the lorry back to the depot and went down the pub. ----------------------------- "Is that it, Ted?" said Roy. "If so I am disappointed, as I expected that you would have got your leg over at some point". "No,no, of course there's more to come" said Ted, "I merely brought the first-half to a swift conclusion, having observed that Ken was straining at the leash to replenish our empty glasses". "I am?" "Quite definitely" said Ted "Unmistakeably" agreed Roy. Ted's tale continues --------------------- I played football for the pub team on Sunday, as was my wont. I was a flying winger in those days - it wasn't so much that I was fast, just that if you're running with the ball and someone tackles you bollock-high you end up flying through the air. So I limped into work on Monday and, true to Maria's prediction, Big George was there, full of himself because, for the first time in years, he could move freely. "That Maria, what a diamond!" he said as we drove out of the depot. "Pound for pound, she's the strongest woman I've ever seen. I mean, the way she carted little-old-me up four flights of stairs, came back for the freezer AND saved you from a kicking!" "Tell you what" he went on "if she's got a licence she can have YOUR job, you're bloody useless - dragging me along to that boring nil-nil game in the freezing cold. That's probably what done my back in!" This was the usual banter that made work bearable. "Give it a rest, George!" I retaliated. "Anyway, as I recall it was 2-0 to West Ham." "Well.. both goals were offside", said George. "Speaking of football though, when are you going to get that knee of yours sorted out?" "I was thinking of giving up playing,as it happens" I said. "I don't enjoy getting hacked to bits every week." "Why don't you go and see Maria?" urged George. "Don't tell me you don't fancy her! She's about your age too!" "I dunno, George. She's a bit ..scary. She's got this terrible temper, but she stays calm with it. I'd hate to get on the wrong side of her, she's so f****ing strong! AND I bet she enjoyed making that little bastard wet himself!" "Don't give me that - I bet you were turned on by it!" I refused to rise to the bait, but he kept on at me- "I'm sure she fancies you!" "Don't be daft" I said, turning red. "Did she say anything to you?" "Well, as a matter of fact she said something along the lines of - I couldn't help noticing that Ted has got a bad knee, I can fix it for him, it would be a nice excuse to see him again - - not in those exact words, of course!" "Stop winding me up, George. She said no such thing!". "I'm serious!" he said grinning from ear to ear. "I was in her flat for two hours, lying on my front while she massaged my back, if you can call it that - The PAIN! She's got fingers like drill-bits! Anyway, we had a good long chat. She's making a serious attempt to learn English. The flat is her sister's and they've kinda swapped places for a month or two. The sister married an English bloke who got her pregnant then scarpered, apparently.". "How did you get all that info? Surely her English isn't that good?!" "She's got a pretty good dictionary" he replied, lamely. "Yeah, well as for getting my fabulous body into bed - she can dream on!" I said, "but there's no harm in letting her take a look at my knee, I suppose." George smiled smugly - "Well" he said "if you're NOT scared of her, what have you got to lose?" Anyway my knee got worse and worse as the day wore on, and by the time we got back to the depot I could barely walk. George went up to the office and phoned Maria for me. When he came back he was beaming - "She must really fancy you, son - 8 o'clock tonight and its on the house!" Back at Maria's ---------------- I got a cab round to Maria's flat. By the time I'd climbed the four flights of stairs my knee was was killing me and I was limping heavily . When Maria opened the door she was wearing one of those techni-coloured aerobics suits and she looked stunning. Unlike on the Saturday, she was wearing make-up and earrings too. Her figure was amazingly trim - apart from her pert boobs there wasn't an ounce of fat on her, but she had the powerful shoulders and thighs of a lifter and her arms looked as if they were made of twisted rope. She invited me in with a little peck on the cheek, and she partly blocked the doorway as I came into the flat, so that I had to brush past her into the living room. Things were looking up! As soon as she saw me limping, though, she scooped me up and carried me to her sofa. Of course, this was no trouble for her, but I'd never been lifted by a woman before and was surprised by how much I liked it. I clung on to her and sensed that she knew I was enjoying it. She immediately went to work on my knee - first rubbing her hands together vigorously to warm them up. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, sensual even, and she had her eyes half-closed. "That tickles!" I said. "Shush!" she reprimanded me, "I am listening". I was about to say that I couldn't hear a thing, when she nodded her head and said, almost to herself, "Aha!" and suddenly my world was full of pain as she dug her powerful fingers into my knee. George's description of them as drill-bits flashed into my mind, as I yelled out. The pain was over so quickly, however, that I was still in mid-holler, and Maria shook her head gently in disbelief - clearly she was thinking "What a wimp!". "Try stand now, please!" she urged. I found that I could stand and even walk around, although it was still sore . "Good!" she smiled, pleased with her prowess, and suddenly scooped me up again. "You like to be lifted, no?" she asked. "Yes" I admitted, fondling her steely upper-arms. Seeing her minus the tracksuit, she was more solid than I imagined and her weight was probably similar to mine. "I love to lift - I am show-off" she said, grinning. I found myself asking "Do you think you could lift me over your head, Maria?" "You are not big weight for me" she said "but I never lift man over the head - only weights. Maybe is possible." She had me in a cradle, and now I found myself rising into the air, but when I got to shoulder level she was struggling. She put me down, and I felt disappointed, but she hadn't given up. "We go into bedroom" she said, and seeing the smirk on my face she burst out laughing. "Not what you think. If I drop you, you must land on bed, not head!" she explained, and lifted me onto her shoulders. She bounced me around a little, balancing me as best she could, then with one hand under my arm-pit and the other under my upper-thigh she hoisted me over her head and held me there for 5 or 6 seconds. As she put me down, she was smiling with obvious pride. "Was easy, in the end!" she said. All I could say was "You're amazing, Maria!" We made love and it was great, but she always had to be in control. We did what she wanted when she wanted - if I tried to take control she squeezed my arm or leg until I stopped - her grip was awesome. Soon, I was completely knackered, while she seemed to be just warming up. "Are you ready for play now?" she asked, out of the blue. "Play?" I said - what was she on about? "Good!" she said. "OK you pay me NOW!", she said dramatically. "Pay for what, Maria?" I asked, thinking maybe she wanted paying for fixing my knee - if so she'd earned it, no problem. "For what?" she snarled. "the SEX, of course!" Her mood had changed in a flash, and suddenly she was on top of me and I could feel her hand around my throat. She spoke slowly, calmly and evenly "Do you think I sleep with worm like YOU for NOTHING?" She started to squeeze. "Do you think you can take PISS out of ME?" I tried to answer, I tried to plead with her, but all that came out was choking, gasping noises. Loosening her grip was impossible - she just used her other hand to stop me - and I swiftly ran out of energy. "Where is my F***ing MONEY? I want £200 NOW!" she hissed. I could feel myself drifting away, and I heard faintly "Well? Last chance, SPEAK!" Suddenly, I could breathe again - she had eased her grip slightly. "Please, please Maria! You almost killed me!" I croaked. "I haven't GOT £200! I don't earn that kind of money!" Her eyes were lit up - the mad cow was enjoying every second of my pain and pleading. She switched to a side headlock, and squeezed - "I want MONEY!! Can you get money from George?". "No, please, Maria, I'll pay you back week by week!" "NO! I think NOT!", she said dragging me across to the bedroom window, still in the painful headlock. Freezing cold air blew into the room as she threw it open. "Stand up!" she ordered, releasing her grip on my head, and more or less lifted me to my feet. I could barely stand. "Too bad you jump out of window!" she mocked. "I tell Police I try to stop you, but you too STRONG for me!" She lifted me onto her shoulders, and was so high on adrenalin she got me over her head in one easy movement. "Goodbye, Ted, you little shit!" she said, and shifted towards the window. "Maria, no!!" I screamed. She turned, giggling and dropped me back onto the bed. I lay there gasping for air , my heart pounding. "You enjoy?" she said closing the window. "It was for me fantastic! You want we do again?" She was flushed with excitement and tried to hug me, but I pushed her away angrily. "I thought you were going to f****ing kill me!" I hollered. To my surprise she looked hurt. "But you ask for it! You ask for it!" she sobbed, and advanced on me once more. "No, don't hurt me, Maria! Please!", I pleaded and I felt stupid when all she did was to pick up a pillow and throw it at me. "Wait, you are shaking!?" she said, which was true but until she pointed it out I hadn't been aware of it. "Yeah, well you did open the f***ing window!" I said, seizing upon the lame excuse. "I suppose I should be grateful you didn't just throw me through it!" She smiled, at this but said nothing, instead picking up the phone and waving aside my protestations. Her call was answered immediately, and she began rabbiting away in Polish - at first she was angry, but at length she calmed down and finally began to laugh. She passed the receiver over to me, but just grinned when I asked her who was on the other end. "Hello?" I said tentatively. "Hello, my son, having a good time?". It was George. "George, you speak Polish!? Where did you learn to do that?" "At my Polish mother's knee, and I never told you before because YOU NEVER ASKED!" "Was it your idea to frighten the shit out of me, or Maria's?" "I cannot tell a lie, Ted! It's all down to your Uncle George! "Just a bit of fun, son! It's obvious that Maria's a bit of a Dom, and we both reckoned you were turned on by the way she handled those yobs." "Bit of fun!? She picked me up over her head and I really thought she was gonna throw me out of the f****ing window!" "Don't blame her, son - I told her you wanted to act out a fantasy, and I gave her a little script to learn. She was all for it!" "She frightened the SHIT out of me!" "Stop, whingeing! You do realise Maria loved every second of it?!" "Yeah, well I'd have enjoyed it if I'd known it was only a game, you bastard!" "According to Maria you did enjoy it - apparently at this very moment you're scared stiff! Don't keep her waiting!" - and with that George put down the phone. I barely had time to do the same before Maria was all over me. Oh well - waste not, want not! ------------------------------------------------------------------- Ted had finishing his story, and was collecting the empty glasses. "Did you see her again, Ted?" Roy asked. "What do you mean DID?" grinned Ted. "Her sister stayed in England and Maria comes over regularly! Same again, lads?"