She was eating a cherry danish and smoking a joint outside a coffee shop near her hotel building. She had just arrived in Amsterdam, and though it was evening, she was desperately craving coffee and pastries; leaning into the delicacies of the city.

It felt safe here. Her main reason for visiting was because of an article she had read online about how Amsterdam is one of the top ten safest cities for women to travel alone. Safety was a feeling she would travel any amount of miles for.

The sun was setting and the joint she had smoked was making her thoughts hazy. She took a deep breath, tasting the crisp, autumn air. The harbor breeze added a salty touch to the blend of perfume, coffee, and smoke that was circulating around her.

After finishing her danish, she crumpled up its wrapping and walked inside to throw it away. She asked the barista to put her coffee in a to-go cup so she would have something warm to hold as she walked a couple of blocks back to her hotel room.

While she waited, she walked around the cafe. The walls were covered in band posters and stickers. The tables accommodated a mix of freelancers who were likely taking advantage of the free wi-fi and tourists who were excited to be somewhere that had legal dispensaries.

Among the dark and grungy wall art, a bulletin board caught her eye. There were a ton of different flyers with tabs offering various services. She approached it to get a closer look. Dog walking, bike repairs, French lessons, meal prepping, babysitting – it seemed like all the flyers had takers… all except one.

Her attention snapped back to reality when the barista called her name. She pulled the lonely flyer off the bulletin board and quickly folded it into her pocket.

“Your coffee is ready to go,” said the barista as she approached the counter. “I added in another shot of espresso. Our treat to welcome you to the city.” The barista smiled and handed her the cup.

“Wow…thank you so much.” She took the cup and smiled back. She liked it here already.

She opened the door to leave and the chilled breeze hit her face. Curling her gloved hands around the cup, she stepped out onto the street and began to walk back to her hotel.

The narrow brick street held the hustle and bustle of bikers, shoppers, vendors, natives, and explorers. The winter season seemed to make everything feel cozy and slow-paced. After the chaos she left back home, this was exactly what she was looking for.

Getting lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t even realized she had just walked past her hotel building. A sudden gust of cool air began to blow and she felt a frozen drizzle coming on. She put her free hand in her pocket and turned back, feeling the flyer she had crammed into her pocket at the cafe. Her heart raced and she walked faster so she could get back to her room.

—

Since she had already checked in, she pulled out her room key and zoomed towards the elevator. The rain droplets mixed with the freezing cold air made her skin beg for the warmth and safety of her room. Once she got in the elevator, she clicked the ‘Door Close’ button and made her way to the 20th floor, grateful that no one else had gotten in. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

The elevator reached her floor and it was a straight line to her room. She liked having rooms close to exits. As she entered, she couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. She was safe, she was alone. She could do whatever she wanted.

The first thing she did was turn on the shower and strip down. After putting her dirty clothes in the hamper, she took the pleasure of walking around naked in her own room, slowly unpacking her suitcase into the drawers and closet.

Without meaning to do so, a smile appeared on her face. What a relief it was to finally be away from her house; away from her abusive boyfriend. Instead of a home, she left behind a box filled with unwanted memories.

All of a sudden, she felt a rush of emotions flood through her as she thought about her past. Panic. Fear. Shame. It felt as if she was reliving it. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, trying to bring herself back to reality.

She pulled the piece of paper from her pocket and flattened it out on the bed.

“ARE YOU A SURVIVOR?

Don’t let the trauma from your past dictate your pleasure.

Call our clinic to schedule an erotic massage with a specialist trained especially for trauma survivors.

We respect you and hope to soothe your every need.”

At the bottom of the flyer was the phone number to call. Her heart was racing as she read this, both intrigued and overwhelmed by the thought. She had heard erotic massages were something men came to experience in Amsterdam but never had she considered something like this existing. It never would have even been an option where she lived. It felt like a sign.

Her stomach lurched as she picked up the phone and dialed the number on the flyer. The clock on the side table signaled that ofise gelen escort it was dinner time and she should order some food, but she knew it would distract her from what she was really thinking about. It was better to push through the nerves and call while she still felt the courage.

The line on the other end rang; her chest tightened every time the dial tone paused to restart. What was she going to say when someone picked up?

On the third ring, a woman picked up.

“Hello, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” asked a strong, sultry voice.

“H-hi, I’d like to remain anonymous, if that’s ok.” Never having done this before, she thought that was best.

“Of course – your privacy is of the utmost importance to us. How about choosing a pseudonym so that our specialist can identify you?”

She hadn’t thought of having a pseudonym! Her mind was blanking and the only thing that came to mind was the cherry danish she had eaten earlier. “Uh…You can call me Cherry, I think.” She had never had a pseudonym and didn’t feel very confident about it, but it was too late to turn back now.

“It’s nice to hear from you, Cherry. Now, I just have a couple more questions for you and you’ll be all set for your massage.

“First – when would you like the massage? We can schedule mornings, evenings, or you can book the whole day. We like to have this option because we find that it can take the pressure off for those that need more time.”

She thought about it, and booking a whole day sounded like a good idea. She hadn’t done anything sexual for herself in quite a long time and she wasn’t sure how she would handle the experience.

She didn’t know why she was voluntarily inflicting this upon herself. What was compelling her to put herself into such a vulnerable situation? Maybe it was something about this city that made her feel bolder, or maybe it was the fact that she was thousands of miles away from her past.

This was the first time in years that she was able to make any decisions just for herself. The alone time was giving her space to consider her own needs. And she needed pleasure. She needed intimacy.

And if this was the way she started her journey towards that, then so be it. She was safe now. She was free.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you still there?” The woman on the other end asked gently, snapping her back to reality.

“Y-yes, sorry. I’d like to book the whole day tomorrow if that’s available?”

“Yes, of course. We only have one booking left for tomorrow. It’s a male specialist, is that okay for you?”

She blushed, trying not to think too hard about the reality of what she was committing to. “Yes, that will be fine.”

“Perfect, the masseur will arrive at 9am tomorrow morning. Now, I just need your credit card information for payment and your address.” Her heart raced as she made the decision permanent.

As soon as she was finished setting up the appointment, she quickly picked up the dinner menu by the phone to keep her mind from wandering. Her stomach was growling. Time to order room service.

She was in the mood for a mix of things so the best option was to order a few different appetizers instead of a whole entrée. Friets with mayo, bitterballen, chicken satay, and a Dutch ale sounded like the perfect combination for the wintry night outside. She picked up the hotel phone and made her order.

While she waited for the food, she got into the hot shower that had been steaming for the past 10 minutes, leaving the bathroom door cracked. Open spaces felt safer.

As the hot water hit her skin, she could feel her stiff muscles softening, ready for a nice meal and a peaceful sleep.

—

She woke up early the next morning to have a quiet breakfast before the nerves started to kick in. She put on her plush, white robe and walked to her little balcony to peer outside.

The orange city lights shone against the port, illuminating the sea which looked to be a deep, purple hue. The lights surrounding the edges of the harbor twinkled like little orange stars from the 20th floor of her hotel building. The sunrise felt magical with the mysteries of the night vanishing with every flicker of sunlight.

There was a knock on her door and her heart immediately began to race. She heard a muffled voice call out, “Room Service,” and then the shuffling of feet walking away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was just the breakfast she had ordered.

When she was sure no one else was outside, she opened the door and brought the trolley in. Croissant, coffee, scrambled eggs, and tart cherry jam were waiting underneath the silver cloches that are so typical in room service etiquette.

She rolled the trolley by the balcony and sat down in the velvety, dark green chair that overlooked the harbor outside. It had a little gold side table that accompanied it, perfect to rest her breakfast on.

As she ate, she tried otele gelen escort to stay present. Sometimes, she would notice her mind wander to worries about what lied ahead or even the past she had left behind, but when she’d realize, she would start counting the number of people walking by below. This tactic seemed to keep her distracted enough to finish her breakfast.

At 8am, she decided to use the rest of her time to take a shower and groom. She wasn’t sure what the body hair protocol was for an erotic massage, but she decided to do what she would normally do if she was going on a date – that really being all she had to base it off of.

She left the door of the bathroom cracked open, as usual, and got to work. Her nerves were starting to creep in as the minutes ticked by, but underneath that, she could feel a slight tinge of excitement; something she hadn’t felt in a really long time.

—

50 minutes later, she was squeaky clean and blow-dried. She had on her robe and was trying to figure out what she should wear when she heard another knock on the door.

Her heart raced again, but this time, she knew it was who she was expecting. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up any ounce of inner strength she could muster to open the door.

“Hello…Cherry?” Said a deep, Danish voice on the other side of the door. She tightened the belt on her robe and shuffled to the door, opening it just a crack.

“Hi…I was expecting you at 9am.” She smiled timidly.

“I’m so sorry I’m early. The sunrise by the harbor is the best in the city, so I decided to head over to this side of town a bit earlier. Would you like me to come back in 10 minutes?”

She could feel her face turning red. It wasn’t that she wanted him to leave, but she wasn’t sure she was dressed appropriately.

“Well…it’s not that. I…I’m still in my robe. I didn’t have a chance to change.”

He smiled at her. “A robe is perfect.” He paused and she could feel him staring, letting the silence surround them. He seemed to be comfortable in it. “May I come in?” He asked gently.

She felt a little silly for not realizing to let him in. She pulled the door open all the way and made space for him to enter. He was carrying a folded massage table with a strap hanging off his shoulder. He had on a long-sleeved black polo that was snug around his pecs and biceps and charcoal grey sweatpants. In his other arm, he was carrying a black down coat with a fur-lined hood.

When he was inside, she realized she had no idea how to hold herself. Should she sit down or keep standing? What should she do with her hands? Should she offer him a drink?

Once he put his things down by the couch near the entrance of the room, he looked up and smiled. Understanding her expression, he said “Why don’t we sit?” he gestured to the couch and sat down.

Still blushing, she walked over and sat on the opposite end from where he was sitting. He turned to face her, resting his arm along the top edge of the couch. She turned to face him as well.

“I realize this must be new to you…how are you feeling?” His voice sounded genuine and caring.

She had to think about that. She wasn’t used to thinking about her feelings directly, in fact, she usually tried to avoid it. Her feelings often had a life of their own and she didn’t always like the ones that showed up.

Sensing the strain on her face, he reassured her. “It’s ok, take all the time you need.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to tune into her current emotions. Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, she opened her eyes and saw that he was still looking at her, waiting patiently for her response.

“I’m feeling…lost.” That was all she could muster.

He nodded understandingly. “That’s a perfectly natural reaction.” He paused, seeming to hesitate before he spoke again. “I can sense a lot of unrest.”

Her body temperature was rising. His directness was a bit overwhelming. She looked down at her lap, unable to keep eye contact. But then, she realized that she would probably never see him after this meeting, so what the hell. She pushed herself to speak up, allowing her words to rush out in a stream of consciousness.

“I’m not very good at sharing my feelings…this is all very new to me. I’m not even sure why I’m doing this, to be honest with you. I guess I just…want to experience something…better than what I’ve had.” Her heart was beating out of her chest and her throat tightened, threatening to unleash her suffering if she continued to talk.

He smiled and she could feel his gaze still on her. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” He paused again. She noticed how much thought he put behind his words before he spoke.

“It was really brave of you to call and schedule this massage. Feeling lost and overwhelmed are natural reactions in this situation, but, I want you to know that regardless of what you’ve been sincan escort through, you deserve everything you want…” and his voice turned a little more tender and soft as he continued, “especially pleasure.” He stated that last part gently but confidently.

His words made his reason for being there so much more real and her heart began to race once again. She felt the same rush that you get when you reach the top of a rollercoaster and in that brief moment, before you drop, you realize there’s no turning back.

“Before we get started with anything, I’d like to know…is there anything that makes you feel the most comfortable in your environment? Maybe some candles? A fuzzy throw blanket? I’d like to make this space feel safe for you.”

She hadn’t really thought about it before, but the house she left behind didn’t have too many creature comforts or decorations. Not because she didn’t want those things, but because it didn’t feel like the type of place where she could be herself. “Those things sound nice, but I just got here. I don’t have anything like that with me.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, I brought some things. How do you feel about red candles?” He pulled out a couple of candles from the duffel bag he was carrying on his other arm when he had entered.

“I love candles. They make everything feel warmer.” Her guard was starting to come down.

“I’m so glad to hear that. Would you mind if I set up for you? It’ll just take a few minutes. In the meantime, I brought you this heated eye cover. I’d like you to lie on the couch with this and focus on your breath. Breath rhythmically in for 5 seconds and out for 7. I’ll come to get you when I’m ready.”

He got up. She was grateful that he was taking control of this situation. With his direction, she was starting to feel less lost. Though it was scary giving a stranger full reign to her private room, there was something about his presence that felt safe.

She decided to trust that gut feeling and lie down with the mask. As she covered her eyes and felt its warmth, her attention focused on the sounds around her – the faint clinking of glass, the unzipping of bags, and the creak of wooden legs, which she assumed was the massage table.

Suddenly, realizing she had gotten distracted, she brought her focus to her breathing and switched her attention inwards, allowing herself to only think about the count of her breath.

She wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed when he came back and put a warm hand gently on her shoulder. It startled her out of her trance and she shot up from the couch.

“Hey…it’s ok. It’s me, you’re safe.” He whispered, resting a gentle hand on her upper back for comfort. She hadn’t realized it but her breathing was really fast. She put a hand on her heart.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to get scared. I forgot where I was for a second.”

He slowly slid the eye mask off her head and she saw him smiling at her. “No need to apologize for that. I’m glad you were able to relax for a bit.”

As her panicked feelings settled, she looked around the room. There was a massage table by the balcony door, a few faux fur throws, and a candle in every corner of the room. Breathing in the warm air, she smelled a sweet, yet unusual scent. Cherry pie?

“Do I smell cherries?” She looked at him, amused.

“Yes, I saw on your form that your pseudonym was Cherry so I assumed that was your favorite fruit. I had some spiced cherry candles I made a few years ago so I thought I’d bring them to make you feel more at home.”

She giggled. The pseudonym she had picked was so off the cuff, she hadn’t thought it could become a permanent part of her personality here.

“Cherries don’t remind me of home at all. I’m glad, though. The less reminders of home I get, the better.” Maybe with this new scent, she could make new memories.

He looked at her, contemplating something for a good minute. Then he said, rather certainly, “Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling inside of you.”

Surprised by his insight, she was speechless. She watched as he rummaged through his duffel bag and pulled out a red thermos and two white ceramic mugs with little green evergreen trees around the rim.

“Have you ever tried Glögg?” He walked over to her on the couch and uncapped the thermos. The sweet, spiced smell sent a satisfying shiver down her spine. She didn’t know what it was, but with the snow starting to fall outside, it smelled perfect.

“No, but I’ll try it. It smells really cozy.” He poured and handed her a mug.

“It’ll also help take the edge off.” He smiled, clinking his mug to hers. “Skål… it’s how you say cheers in Danish.”

She smiled back. “Skål.” She was feeling more comfortable as she sipped what tasted like sweet, orange, and cinnamon nectar.

They sat on the couch, with him slightly turned towards her, and sipped in silence for a few minutes, watching the snow come down from her balcony window. He remained comfortable in the quiet atmosphere, whereas she was tense, unsure of what to say or do next.

He was the first to break the silence. “I thought I could start by giving you a back massage. Your shoulders look a bit tight, I’d love to help you loosen them up.”

Her heart jumped into overdrive and her body temperature felt like it rose 10 degrees. She was sure she was blushing.