While wandering near Columbus Circle on Monday, I stopped in for a spontaneous massage. I needed it.

My masseuse began by prodding all my sore spots. (Ouuuch! Anyone else find that heels absolutely wreck their hips?) When satisfied that I was suitably scared, she hopped up on the table, grabbed an overhead rail, and stepped on me.

What an odd sensation, I kept thinking. She was deft with her feet, and could apply much more pressure than with her hands. Probably half the hour she spent using one or both feet. The weight felt great on my legs, and wonderful when she rolled up my spine, cracking each of the vertebrae. Hands and feet — swoon! I found it a little alarming on my upper back, not from any pain but because I couldn’t breathe.

All in all, a really unique experience, if lacking in ambiance. The regular massage portion was nothing to write home about, but how often do women walk on you for your pleasure? (For $70 an hour?) I’d recommend it for anyone 140lbs and up. She was. I am not.

Link: Salon de Tokyo.

(Photo credit: Priapus. You’ll be seeing a bunch of these because the man is a genius.)

Posted in pictures, nyc, fetishcon