joseph and tim go to White

every once in a lifetime, a man develops a desire in him so strong and so compelling that he cannot help but answer its call. its siren song is entrancing, irresistable.

the place is known as White. White is the source of dreams, White is where angels go to die, White is purity and White is what is good. White is knowing that you've lived a good life and White is like having yourself bathed in the most soothing and cooling healing balm ever.

White is a hairdressing salon in upper tanjong pagar.

and today, joseph ting and i were determined to get our hair cut.

we met at 11 in rabid anticipation, but like harold and kumar, we were inevitably made to wait till 130 cos they only opened at that time. apparently joseph forgot they opened late today. we were made to undergo a myraid of difficulties on the way, like learning our A & C notes and discussing Shakespeare in Love.

but no matter. all that inconvenience pales in comparison to the eventual prize. a trip to White.

the first thing that hits you when you step in is the heavenly scent of lavender mixed with a tinge of vanilla and topped off with a tangerine scent. the base might be anything from sandalwood to musk, i couldnt really tell cos i was assaulted on all fronts at once.

the decor was minimalist in nature, the jet black ceilings juxtaposed nicely with the silver, egg like designer chairs. black sofas crouch in the corner, beckoning you to let them caress your ass. the glass white counter presides imperiously above all and christmas decorations are spread out along the room, with silver glass balls and snow kissed, frost dusted leaves of mistletoe making love to the mirrors.

if there ever was a heaven on earth, then White must certainly be it. The lady who owns the place has an angelic name called Kel and she must have one of the softest hands ever known to mankind.

they softly caress my crop of hair as she whispers into my ear and asks for my request. following which she seizes a pair of ice cold, silver handled scissors and motions them through my locks of hair. softly, gracefully, they part the rough, dark sea of hair and it soon begins to fall---dark snow flitting across thefront of my eyes. some catches in my brows and Kel gently flicks them away with her perfectly manicured fingers, sparkling silver with a rosy tinge.

there is no pain here, only joy. where other scissors are coarse and literally pull your hair out in clumps, there is no such ignominy with Kel's. her skilful hands part and brush, search and caress, ever fragile in their deportment yet possessing such assertiveness and surety that i felt like a baby all over again, unable to move for fear of ending the moment. her scissors obey her every command, like her magic wand, which she waves and says "it shall be done" and it is done.

but the experience doesnt just end here. oh no. to end like this would be nothing short of a sin. during this period of ecstacy, i was presented with a glass of sparkling clear mineral water (upon request) by one of the most magical girls i have ever seen.

as soon as the haircut was finished, she then proceeded to render her services to a back massage.

"let me give you a back massage"

it was not a request. nay, it could not be denied. no force on earth could possibly deny this girl her wishes. there is no such thing as customer power in White, only gentle obescience to them and they will reward you greatly.

let me attempt to describe this girl to you. She is of the same breed as Kel, a race of angels long lost to mankind. she is Kel's sister (as i found out from joseph ting later)

her face is like a faerie's. sharp, angular eyes that pierce into your soul and root out your darkest desires. her perfectly rouged cheeks add warmth to her otherwise cold demeanor, much like the way warm blood would give life to an ice queen. her beauty was in her aloofness. she is obviously superior but yet surprisingly human and fragile as well.

her high angular cheekbones accentuate her thin, softly pink and luscious mouth. her hair is tousled and messy, with long spikes that curve softly and caress her shoulder blades softly. the shoulders themselves are ramrod straight and of an aristocratic manner. her figure is wispish and she is waiflike like a faerie is. she wears the whitest flat sloe shoes that i have ever seen. the pattern on them understated yet classy. smooth dark pants hug her firm thighs and gives way to a simple yet commanding white tanktop with a messy scribble design.

the first thing that strikes you about her is how much you want her. strange, considering she isnt outright pretty or sexy, but we all know that faeries can shroud themselves in glamour and they play with men's hearts like a hungry wolf rips out a deer's.

the second thing that struck me was how strong she was, considering her appearance. her back massage was firm, her fingers unyielding, running the length of my shoulder blades and meeting at my neck and running down the spine. i experienced an electric tingle in the base of my spine which ran up and down. she looked all around her, as if bored and then looked straight at me. i found myself quite unable to hold her gaze.

and from then on, there was no going back. it was on to the washing of hair and the massage of the head.

her firm but soft hands supported my head and cradled my neck as she scrubbed the tangerine shampoo into my locks.
her sharp nails scratched all over my head and i stifled a gasp at the intensity of the assault. it was midly painful and disconcerting but yet at the same time exhilerating and immensely pleasurable.

from there, she went on to slide her fingers firmly, sensuously down the back of my ears and onto the back of my neck. pure bliss. im the kind of guy that likes the back of my neck massaged i suppose. hits the spot.

opening her hands in the pattern of a sensous butterfly, she then proceeded to kneed my head. first, the front of the top part of the head then progressing backwards. with each press i experienced the tingling sensation down my spine again. my hands were clenched and tight against my body in a sharp contrast to the pleasure above and i found myself hating myself for not being able to enjoy the sheer purity of the moment.

circular and anti-circular movements followed as she rubbed my head (yes, that head) hard, squeezing it for it was worth and working up a nice froth as well. she patted my head like one would to a dog and if she had leaned over and licked my lips i would have died.

but she didnt. instead, she asked if the water was too hot as she washed me off, like a mother would wash a newborn baby. i nodded....i mean i mumbled a reply that was faintly in the negative and then it was over. the last thing i recollect was her gentle fingers towelling my hair dry and her sticking her fingers into my ears and rolling them about, which felt strangely erotic.

and then it was all over.

sometimes when you want to stay in a dream it chooses the most appropriate time to kick you out, screaming and yelling.

and so it was that my visit to White came to an end. there was no fuss, neither did i cry, cos i knew that it would only be a matter of time before i managed to go through the same door into White again.

someday, someday (just before prom to be exact), i will be back to the paradise that is White.

you should visit that place too, if you want to know what pleasure is like. it will be a journey that is long and ardous and frought with peril, but it will be well worth it. what is a little discomfort and pain for just a split second glimpse of heaven on earth?

never fear, my friends. take heart that you will be able to find the steely determination inside you and the passion within will hold you through as you journey towards salvation.

PS. Joseph Ting got a guy for the massage and bath (haha!!) but i bet he likes the guy's touch as well, dont you tingky winky?