#304 Go to a Korean Spa

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I first heard about Korean Spas from my Korean friend Julie. She explained it to me once a while ago but the only thing I really took away from the conversation was: YOU HAVE TO BE NAKED THE WHOLE TIME.

That may be an exaggeration, but you do have to spend most of your time naked. Basically, there is a male and female section to the spa. While in each section, you’re pretty much expected to be naked most of the time and all of the time in the sauna/jacuzzi/shower area.

I’ve explained in great detail how I feel about being naked in my post about posing for a photo in front of Hot Cookie. Something I didn’t mention in that post was being naked in locker rooms. I was never naked in the locker room in high school. The only time I absolutely had to get naked was for swim class. But I did the towel wrap thing to put on my swim trunks and then I showered with them on. Yes, I was a never-nude.

Last week Julie mentioned that her husband, Matt, were going to check out a Korean Spa in Fullerton called The Imperial Spa tonight. I immediately invited myself along.

Before we got there, Julie and Matt gave me some basic instructions. We would be given clothes to wear in the common areas. These were the co-ed areas of the spa. In the male and female areas, as I said before, we’d be naked most of the time. I’ve known Matt since college, close to 20 years, so if I was going to be naked around any of my friends, it would be him.

The spa was located in a strip mall. The entrance seemed nice. A lot of stone and granite. There was a large reception desk and to the right a built-in cafe. Admission was $15 but for $60 you could get also get an acupressure massage.

There was some debate about whether I should get the salt scrub or acupressure massage. On the one hand, the salt scrub involved being laid down on a table completely naked and being scrubbed raw by a small Korean woman. On the other hand, acupressure massage involved being lad down on a table almost naked and being pummeled by a small Korean woman. Julie’s parents said Korean Spa newbies should do the acupressure massage so that’s what we signed up for. We were given keys with a number and a wristband.

At that point, me and Matt went to the men’s section and Julie went to the women’s. We’d meet up in the co-ed area after our massages.

I was worried about how everything worked, even though I had Matt with me as a guide. We walked into the men’s locker room area. It was small and nobody was there. I found the locker with my key number on it. It looked too small for all my stuff. Turns out that was just for my shoes. The clothes lockers were in the main part of the locker room. As I rounded the corner to the main area, I saw exactly what I was expecting to see: a bunch of naked Asian guys.

I don’t go to the gym any more and I never played sports very much so this was probably as many naked men I’d seen in my life at once. My goal was to avoid eye-t0-eye and eye-to-penis contact and any contact at all come to think of it. I went to my locker and quickly changed into the “uniform” they give you which consists of tan shorts and a “prisoner orange” t-shirt.

I went to go find Matt but couldn’t. That’s when I realized he had gone into the bath area aka Nakedsville.

I was hoping we could walk in together. After a few moments, I stripped down and just went for it. I mean, everyone else was naked and nobody seemed to care. Why not me?

Being naked is kind of liberating. I adapted a fuck-if-I-care attitude and even managed to strut a little bit. Own the nakedness.

The bath area consisted of showers on the left, different “plunges” on the right, saunas in the back and baths way in the back. Oh, and a lot more naked guys.

The process is to take a shower first so that you’re clean. You can also shave and brush your teeth. I’m not really sure why anyone need to do that unless you’re having a date there.

I saw Matt in the jacuzzi so that’s where I went first. There was one other guy in there. It started to not feel so weird. When in Rome I guess. The jacuzzi was nice. I wasn’t in an area with the jets. I was just leaning back and relaxing. That’s when I looked down and realized you could see straight thru the water to my junk. That’s when I moved over to the jets where the bubbles could hide my shame.

We hit the saunas next. I’d never been in a sauna before I realized. I’d seen them, but never felt the urge to go inside since I hate the heat. I could only stay in for a few minutes. Coming out of the sauna was the best part.

Next it was massage time. Apparently we had to change into robes first. Matt said there are usually shorts to wear but we couldn’t find them. “What do we wear under the robes?” I asked. He shrugged. “Nothing I guess.”

But when we were called into the massage area, when one of the masseuses saw us “hanging out”, she gave us a frantic look that said, “Put on some pants for the love of God!” and directed us back into the locker room. Turns out the shorts were on a shelf below the robes. We just missed them.

I’ve had plenty of massages before. I always get deep tissue ones. I figure I have a lot of tension in my muscles, I want my money’s worth. Break that shit up. And while I’ve had some painful ones, never has the pain ever been completely unbearable.

Acupressure involves laying a sheet over you and prodding your muscles. I didn’t know why they use a sheet but then I figured maybe it was for friction. Because it’s all about pressure and if you were greasy with massage oil, they’d slide over you and it would be like a regular massage.

When it first started out, everything seemed fine. Too fine in fact. I wasn’t feeling much pain. Was I going to get my money’s worth?

Then it started. She attacked my neck with her fingers. I’m pretty certain her fingers could crack stone. Maybe that’s how these masseuses train: they massage cinder blocks. I tried to maintain composure and do some yoga breathing. It was pretty painful but not end of the world.

My lower back was where she found some pretty bad knots. I couldn’t stand the pain a few times and had to twist away in agony. “Relax,” she said. “Breathe through open mouth.” In Yoga, you breath with your mouth closed. It was the only thing giving me any comfort. But I listened to her anyway.

A few moments later, I was gasping like a fish while she worked me over like a baker kneading dough. When she noticed I was particularly sensitive in my right forearm (get your minds out of the gutter), I explained I worked on a computer all day. She scolded me for my poor posture which led to my wrist problems then proceeded jab my already broken down wrist with her fingers. Finally, it seemed like the worst of it was over.

Then I heard a noise behind me. Lying face down on the table, I couldn’t see what was going on. Then I realized: she’s getting on the table. She’s going to walk on me, I slowly realized. Now, if I was already at borderline pain with just her hands, what would her feet and gravity do to me?

I wish I could tell you, but I think I blocked out everything to spare myself the memory of the blinding, searing pain that was about to engulf me. She performed some sort of sadistic dance on my body while grasping metal rails on the ceiling. This was not to alleviate pressure, but to give herself additional leverage to drive her heels into my muscles.

She kept saying, “Relax. Breathe through open mouth” and then driving her heel into me. YOU FUCKING RELAX AND BREATHE THROUGH OPEN MOUTH!

Then she went to work on my right forearm. At this point, I abandoned any attempt to maintain composure. I openly moaned, groaned and yelped in pain. Then she put all of her weight right on the meaty part of the top of my forearm. My head jerked up. My legs flopped around, slapping the table. My left arm flailed about wildly. I was YELLING in pain. I didn’t know what to do. Surely this wasn’t right. Wouldn’t she stop? She stopped when I pulled away a little when she was working my back.

But she didn’t. She dug her heel in harder. It was seriously the most pain I’ve ever been in my life. I was almost crying. I thought my arm was going to break in half. I could’ve physically thrown her off me. She was only 100 pounds at best. But the pain was so intense I couldn’t function.

Then it was over. She flipped me over on did the front but it was nothing like the back. The session ended with a strange spanking. A literal spanking. I don’t know if that was something special she did for me or what.

Afterwards, I did feel pretty amazing. It’s a rush to go through that much pain and live to tell the tale. My forearm wasn’t even sore. I guess she knew what she was doing.

Me and Matt went to the co-ed area to meet up with Julie. There were about twenty people, all wearing the spa outfits. It looked like a prison or cult. After going into some of the saunas there (including a cold room) we got some shaved ice then called it a night.

Overall, I really like the experience and would definitely go back. The nakedness is not a big deal because of course, everybody else is naked too. The massage, I’m not so sure I’d get again. Matt and Julie both said it was the most painful massage they’d received. Maybe once my body has recovered after a few months or so. In the meantime, there’s always the naked salt scrub…

5 Comments to “#304 Go to a Korean Spa”

  1. angela 3 January 2012 at 5:06 pm #

    Haha! I went to Imperial Spa here in SF with a friend once. We did the scrub down, which was excellent but strange at first because of all the nonchalant nudity.

    The most painful massage I’ve ever had was a Thai massage. Similar to yours in that a deceptively small Asian woman rammed her body parts into my problem areas (for me, right shoulder and forearm too – damned mousing!) until I begged her to stop. Of course afterward I felt awesome, but I still wouldn’t do it again.

    • Greg 5 January 2012 at 9:58 am #

      I want the scrub down!

  2. sun 8 March 2012 at 9:25 am #

    I almost died trying to hold in my laughter while reading this at work. too good!

    • Greg 8 March 2012 at 1:01 pm #

      I have to go back for the scrub down for sure.

      • M. 10 March 2012 at 1:27 pm #

        The scrubs are done by someone of the same sex, fyi. In some places (but not all, and I don’t know what they do at Imperial), the dude will put a little modesty towel over your junk.