A Massage Story, or, "Does this panty make my butt look fat?"

Massages can be so very many things, but let me state at the onset here that if it weren't for regular massages, my shoulders would be above my neck. Dick and I have a massage therapist that comes to our home, sets up in a quiet room in our house and does her magic. She is very intuitive and never does the same massage twice. She can feel her way around aching muscles and know exactly how much or how little pressure they need. We also chit-chat throughout most of the massage although I've also been known to fall asleep. She gives advice about stretches that would be beneficial and also has ideas about what herbs or vitamins help with one thing or another. She is an exceptional human being and a cherished friend.
When I'm in Santa Fe, I have a particular massage therapist that I request when I book at Ten Thousand Waves. She is also intuitive with her touch, and is a breath therapist and naturopath.
Early on, I was shy and didn't know what the protocol is for massages. Mainly I wondered: do I have to get bare naked? But massage therapists are discreet and respectful, so now I'm perfectly comfortable with getting naked on the table. Good M.T.s are like doctors in that respect...they do this for a living, they're good at it, I don't have anything that they haven't seen before - a bold comment to make considering that for 16 years I didn't have a left breast and for the past 4 I've had a fake one.
But I digress...
Because we are staying at the Hilton here in Kuala Lumpur, I trust their choices of massage therapists so I booked a massage. But still, I don't know what massages are like here in Malaysia. Everywhere I go things are a little different. The young Asian woman led me into the room and pointed out a robe and some towels and then left me, saying she'd be back in 3 minutes. What am I supposed to do with the robe? Does she want me to wear it? And what about the towels? Should I wrap one around my waist? And what's this weightless little bundle she handed me, slippers? I opened it up...no, it must be something for me to cover my hair to protect it from the oils....no, it's....it's....disposable underwear! I put them on and they looked like a diaper. That was full. On both sides. Not a good look. I decided forget the robe and the towels, this diaper/panty will be my nod to modesty and I laid face down on the table. She returned and with a tiny little voice asked if the pressure was too much, and did I like the fragrance - yes and yes! I had chosen lemon grass which is supposed to be refreshing. I nixed peppermint because mom used to chew peppermint gum when we went on road trips when I was a kid and I associate it with throwing up in the car.
OK, anyway, other than her checking in with me a few times we didn't converse. My brain is tired from trying to understand accents and I just want feel better. She worked efficiently and thoroughly...she probably executes the exact same massage for everyone but it didn't feel like she wasn't fully present. Even though the pressure was deep, there was enough gentleness so that I didn't feel tortured. The best massage therapists will never make sudden moves or whip the sheets or towels around. Everything is fluid, nothing is startling. But suddenly she hopped up on the table in one fell swoop, sat down, hard, on my legs and yanked my diaper/panties down about six inches and bulldozed my back. From the middle of my butt to my neck, back down and up, back down and up, back down and up, it felt like giant arms were ironing out every last bit of tightness. It felt so good I might have even let out a little gasp. Except for that butt crack thing. Will she pull them back up? Does she always do this?
"Does this panty make my butt look fat?" I wanted to ask that but there was that language barrier...
In the end, if you'll pardon that expression, I'm not sure why I had to put that thing on in the first place.
When she was done she left the room so I could get ready to leave. Is this when I wear the robe? I put it on because it was just too pretty not to use. But then I took it right off. Because I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to leave with my own clothes on. I removed the diaper/panty and put them on the floor. That didn't seem right, so so I picked them up and put them on the table near the brush. No, that's tacky, so I put them on the massage table. I guess I'm kind of sorry I didn't keep them so Dick could see for himself I'm not making this up.

P.S. She did pull the diaper/panty back up when she was finished with my back. Doesn't that just.........crack you up?