The Legend of Madame Tay

He had heard the story from a few different sources. That there was a woman now residing in Chinatown who gave the most incredible massages in the world. She went by the name of Madame Tay, but that was all he knew. As the legend was told, more than one man had succumbed to heart failure while "under her hand" and quite a few more were driven insane. So this had been the start of his obsession to find her.

People usually told him he was a shmuck when he informed them about these quests he often went on, but he liked to think of himself as a "man of the world". He was an experience junkie and he wanted to feel everything that life had to offer. So he went to Chinatown that day on a mission to locate this mysterious, elusive Madame Tay and discover what pleasures she could bestow.

When he arrived in the city he looked in the phone directory under "Tay" and found twenty odd listings. He called them all but got nowhere until he spoke to a Mr. Tay who said his mother was a "reader of tea leaves" and sometimes went by the title "Madame". So he arranged to meet this woman under the pretext that he needed advice.

Her office turned out to be a room over her family's dry cleaning business and she turned out to be a woman in her eighties. She brought him upstairs accompanied by her nephew and read the tealeaves in the bottom of his cup after he was finished.

"You are a chaser of shadows but you will soon make a great discovery!" she predicted.

He thanked her and paid her more than she asked for and then inquired if there was another Madame Tay that she knew of there. The old woman spoke to her nephew back and forth in Cantonese for awhile before the nephew addressed him.

"My aunt believes you may be looking for our relative who works at the dim sum kitchen on Panda Avenue." he announced.

He thanked the woman and her nephew before leaving but he had little faith in their referral. How could he find Madame Tay in a dim sum restaurant, he wondered?

The vision he had of Madame Tay was right out of central casting. He saw her as a swan-like creature with intense eyes that glittered with intrigue. She would, of course, be dressed in a traditional, full-length silk robe with her hands hidden in the sleeves. He envisioned her emerging from behind a curtain as a gong sounded and jasmine incense curled through the air. Then she would gracefully and ominously glide toward him...

When he arrived at Panda Avenue he realized this was not a good part of town. It was where the newly arrived Chinese lived in crowded little spaces that stunk of rotting food. Inside the dim sum kitchen itself, hordes of Chinese were noisily consuming their daily fare. He approached the cashier and had to shout to make himself heard.

"Do you have a Madame Tay that works here?" he queried.

The cashier looked perplexed but then summoned the manager. When the manager arrived he seemed to recognize the name and lead him to the back of the restaurant into the kitchen. They continued through the kitchen into another room where women were cutting vegetables. The manager asked him to wait there and then went behind a curtained door. Moments later a middle-aged woman peeked out at him and then disappeared. Then the manager came back out and held the curtain open for him.

"Madame see you now." he announced with a weird smile.

He entered the room and saw that it was set up like a small apartment with a table and chairs, a TV and a bed in the corner. It also had a small kitchen area where food was being cooked. Then the woman he had seen peek out from the curtain came out of the bathroom.

"Please to sit." she said, motioning toward the table.

"Are you Madame Tay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, yes." she replied pushing a chair under him.

"Are you the same Madame Tay that...gives massages?"

"Yes, yes!" she relied again, patting his arm.

He wondered if this whole thing had been a mistake at that moment. She was a somewhat plump, gray-haired grandma and nothing about her said "dangerous" or "mysterious" to him. Although he understood from his experiences that the best massages were rarely given by the young cuties, he did have certain standards. He looked around the room again.

"So where do you...do your work?" he asked.

"Here, here!" she replied with a smile, pointing to the long dining table they were sitting at.

"Here!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, this table good for massage!" she insisted.

She got up and returned with a sleeping mat and rolled it out over the table and then placed a sheet over it.

"One hundred dollars, please." she said, holding her hand out.

He was uncomfortable with the whole situation, but then hadn't danger been what he had come there to find?

He paid her and then looked around for a place to change.

"Okay, you give me clothes now." she ordered.

He hesitated and then handed over his shirt and pants and shoes after removing his wallet and keys.

"Underwear too." she commanded.

He stripped the rest of the way down and then stood there feeling quite vulnerable and strange. She disappeared with his clothes and then returned with a tin of cooking butter. She had him lay down on his stomach on the makeshift massage table.

"You clean?" she asked, before spreading his ass cheeks and sniffing him.

"What?"

"Okay, you clean." she replied, slapping his butt.

She began by dry massaging him. She pressed the balls of his feet between her hands and then beat his heels with her fist before working up to his calves and hamstrings where her thumbs moved in long lines, plowing through the tension in his legs and taking his mind on a beautiful journey. Then she worked the deep muscles of his buttocks before climbing on top of him to walk her palms up his back. As he listened to his vertebra make crunching sounds, he decided he had done well. But then a woman entered the room from the kitchen and started asking Madame Tay some questions. She answered as she worked his shoulders from the front, but he was somewhat bothered by the fact that his bare ass and balls were now exposed to this random kitchen worker. Did they have no conception of privacy in the Orient?

The cooking butter went on next after the intruder left. She worked it into his feet and legs in pinching, swirling motions, then rubbed it deep into the crack of his ass. As he lay there with his legs spread, he hoped there would be no more walk-in visitors to gawk at his now buttered ass, since her fingers were now delving down into his scrotum and sweeping up across his anus in slow, purposeful strokes. He liked where this was going, he thought, and he was beginning to appreciate the whole impromptu nature of the set up she had there. Do you want a massage? Here, lay down on my dining table!

But there was nothing about this massage as of yet that was all that special. It was simply adequate. His heart still felt strong and his mind was still clear.

When she had finished with his back she had him turn over. She buttered up his thighs and pushed his cock from side to side in the process and this added a bit more tension. Then she arrived at a spot near his crotch that sent tingles down into his prostate. He knew at once this was a spot she had mapped and visited often. She kneaded it and prodded it and then he watched in amazement as his cock responded to the signals she was sending. Soon his poor prick began to rise like a crane without any will of its own. He felt his face begin to burn like a virgin as his member achieved its full, aching, engorged glory right in front of her.

This was where the massage became quite unique in his experience since he had never achieved an erection during one without direct manual stimulation before. But there it was, filling the room up like a white elephant, and Madame Tay seemed completely indifferent to it.

He kept watching her face, waiting for her to acknowledge his big, beautiful hard-on and perhaps wrap her painted Chinese lips around it. How could she resist, he wondered?

Then she began to rub his inner thighs with quick upward strokes and then took a detour to his testicles which made his dick flap around like a spring-loaded dagger. After this, with no further adieu, she gripped the head of his gland with two fingers and began to casually slow stroke it.

A flood of relief washed over him as her hand moved artfully over his gland. Then, to his horror and consternation, another female kitchen worker entered and began rummaging around in the small kitchen. Madame Tay started conversing with her as she continued to rub the head of his cock. He put his arm over his face to try and deny the worker's presence, but he knew his raging erection was now on public display.

"You know I'm really not into being watched." he said in almost a whisper.

Madame Tay kept stroking his asshole and his cock as she spoke, giving the girl directions of some kind. But then she grabbed a thick elastic band and wrapped it tightly around the base of his cock and balls, trapping the blood and preserving his hardness.

"What's this?!" he protested.

"I come back in minute." she said to him, before playfully tapping the now purple head of his cock!

"Where are you going?!" he asked in disbelief.

But Madame Tay left the room with the woman without another word.

Now he was becoming annoyed. His cock was banded and ready to burst and he was supposed to just lay there and wait for this woman to return! His mind was torn at this point between getting up and leaving and finding a way to work through the suffering. But since he didn't know where his clothes were, he decided to suffer a little more.

He looked down at his artificially maintained hard-on and groaned. Could this be how those other men had lost their minds and suffered heart failure? On the shelf he saw a laughing jade Buddha and then he understood who the joke was on.

She returned a few minutes later.

"These girls still learning how to cook!" she explained jovially.

She freed his purple cock and balls from the band and picked up where she left off, stroking his gland while tickling his scrotum. She dipped in for more cooking butter and than inserted two fingers into his rectum. He now had the twin sensations of fucking and being fucked as her strokes and penetrations moved in perfect synchronization.

"You like?" she asked him.

"Uh huh." he replied.

He didn't want to answer anymore questions. He just wanted to enjoy the journey to the place she was taking him. And he could sense it was going to be a beautiful place, filled with Chinese violin music and colorful, dancing dragons.

But his trip to Dragonland was cut short again when two more prep cooks entered. Madame Tay and the pair all began to converse in their harsh Cantonese dialect as he shielded his face from the sound and the sight of them. Then they all shared a rude sounding laugh together and he wondered if he was not the object of the joke. She grabbed the band and slipped it over his genitalia again, causing his ball sack to puff up like a bullfrog.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded to know, "I'm tired of these interruptions! This is completely unprofessional!"

But Madame Tay only smiled.

"Everything okay. You just be good boy. I return quick." she assured him.

She left and he stared at his bound up, purple cock and blue balls and felt foolish. His heart and mind were not feeling so good anymore and this whole thing was starting to seem like a sick game. The root of his cock was straining at the rubber band and he feared his prick would soon burst. He tried to ease the tension of the band with one finger.

"No, no," he heard a voice say before realizing Madame Tay had returned, "must keep tension inside." she scolded him.

She unleashed his cock again and re-buttered it, sliding her well-creased hand slowly up and down its length. Then she squeezed it at the root and moved her hand in twisting motions over the gland. Before he knew it her fingers were in his ass again fucking his prostate and incredible pressure began to build at the end of his captive prick. He had never seen his cock so big before and he was glad now that he hadn't lost patience.

She was settling into a wonderful rhythm now, pointing his mighty erection straight up at the ceiling to show off all its proud height. So when another kitchen worker entered, she didn't pause, knowing he was too far along to delay any longer. And when yet another worker came in and the three all began to converse again, she kept at him, bringing the butter up and around his rock hard engorged prick like she was glazing it for the oven.

Then one worker in the process of sharpening a butcher knife walked over to where they were, completely oblivious to his pulsing cock and the stroking it was receiving. The second worker came over as well, tossing something inside a mixing bowl. The three of them all stood around him like hens and chatted away and laughed in their harsh tones as the tension in his loins grew to unbearable levels.

He tried to take himself away in his mind, away from this crazy kitchen scene where his naked body was laid out for all who entered to gander at, but then he was struck by a sudden and horrible realization! Perhaps this cock had now become something on the menu! He opened his eyes wide under the arm he was still hiding beneath and peeked up at them tossing their batter and sharpening their knives. Was this why she had used cooking butter on him? Could it be his manhood was in fact being seasoned and prepared as a Chinese delicacy?!

Fear and paranoia gripped him, and he soon found himself thinking of possible names for the dish they would make out of his cock.

Well Hung Guy!

Some Dick Chow!

Wang-ton Soup?

But he found it harder and harder to care about any possible future the more Madame Tay's hands brought him closer to that beautiful pagoda in the sky. She had him completely under her control now, holding him back while edging him forward. His cum was in the tube already, waiting for Madame Tay to release her grip on his root ever so slightly. She waited until his body was wracked with tremors before she let it go completely, allowing his orgasm to avalanche forward.

"OOOOHHH!" rose his cry of release as these Chinese women continued to chatter with little notice of him.

"AAHHH!" he cried out again as he looked down and saw his semen spray up and cover his torso as Madame Tay simply tickled his balls absent-mindedly with one finger.

(A dragon's head spit fire in front of him and then burst into a thousand multi-colored streamers.)

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" he called out, quite beside himself with satisfaction and relief.

Madame Tay and her helpers then casually walked away to prepare their soup.

He laid there for another ten minutes covered in his own bodily fluids until she returned with a fake, silk robe and his shoes and wiped him down.

"Sorry, can't find your clothes. Maybe they send them out to laundry." she announced.

He wanted to protest her negligence, but he lacked the energy. He got off the table still trembling and put on the short robe and his loafers. "You like massage? You come back!" she said as she pushed him out the back door.

He walked away on his rubber legs feeling ridiculous, but vindicated. Riding the bus home was also interesting wearing nothing but that pink robe and dress shoes and there were more than a few raised eyebrows and smirks, but when he saw his friends the next day he was quick to claim victory.

"I got a massage from Madame Tay yesterday and it was unbelievable!" he bragged.

His friends all looked at each other quizzically.

"Madame Tay?" one asked.

"Yes, the masseuse you were all talking about in Chinatown." he clarified.

His friends all looked at each other again.

"You mean Madame Tian?" another friend chimed in, "She's an acupuncturist."

"But you said she..."

"...killed a few of her patients by sticking needles into their fatal pressure points." another friend finished.

Now he was starting to feel a little foolish.

"So...you weren't talking about a masseuse?"

"Sorry my friend," one pal replied before they all began to laugh, "If you try to get a massage from Madame Tian you'll end up with needles in your dick!"

He left them that day without telling them the story of Madame Tay, but he still felt quite satisfied in his heart. Whether she had been a master of orgasm denial and teasing, or just a Chinese cook trying to earn some money on the side, he had found her because he believed in the mysterious possibilities that exist in the world. And that was enough for him. Even if most of his notions about the East had been laughable.

As he walked back home that evening, unbeknownst to him, he stepped on a discarded take-out menu for the Beijing House. On the opened page, under main courses, there was a dish described as "a delectable Eastern version of tube steak." The name of the main course was listed as Sum Dik Chow.