Spy Massage - Seoul

[Raposa]

Seoul doesn’t hand you its secrets easily — you have to go looking for them. Tucked behind the facade of a long dormant thai massage shop near Itaewon Station is Spy Massage: it is hidden behind the front of another massage shop like its sister shop «Superman» which is down the road. There are no smiles, just a narrow staircase past a middle eastern restaurant and the low throb of something waiting.

Inside, it’s pure glauque — a tight, dim room that smells faintly of soap and something warmer. The set-up is bare: a thin bed wrapped in Thai sheets, a worn shower stall in the corner, a single low lamp throwing lazy shadows across the floor. Perfect. Those who are familiar with Saphan Khwai shops in Bangkok will know what I mean,

I’d found the place through Telegram — I could not add them on Line without QR-codes — and booked a 60-minute Aroma Oil Massage for 100,000 KRW. No nonsense, cash in hand, pick your poison. I asked whether tip for masseur was included but got no definite answer.

That night, it was a slim twink with tattoos: ink on lean limbs, a K-pop baby face that hadn’t quite shaken off its troublemaker grin. Not the kind you forget easily.

After a quick rinse, he slipped into the room, polite but unreadable, and got to work. At first, it was standard — oil, pressure, a bit of chat in broken English. But the lines blurred fast: hands lingering where they didn’t need to, a slow, deliberate press of skin, a flicker of something wicked in his eyes.

And then, without hesitation, he shed his clothes — one fluid, casual move — and the temperature of the room shifted.

The massage became a game of slow collisions: his body brushing mine, teasing, inviting. He was soft at first, curious, but with every brush of fingers, every stolen breath, the tension thickened between us.

Touch was offered, and I took it. His tattoos warmed under my palms, his skin taut over muscle and bone, so close it felt like stealing. The line between service and seduction dissolved; there was only the heat of his body and the hush of the dark. I did not get full service but I left very happy.

TL;DR

Seoul is a conservative city, don’t expect the same breadth of service and quality as you would find in Bangkok. The services offered here are discreet. 

Spy Massage runs 24 hours, offering quiet, anonymous encounters for those who know how to find them. You have to pre-book your masseur.

Communication is fast, businesslike, and the environment feels private enough to leave your guard at the door.

The twink wasn’t a polished model — he was real, alive, the kind of beauty that sneaks up on you when the lights are low.

I left a 20,000 KRW tip (he didn’t ask for it)  and the taste of the night still heavy on my skin.

[PeterRS]

I think Seoul has always been a city for hiding its gay lights under decreet veneers. I can recall the 1980s when all we had was Spartacus to guide us, a nearly hopeless proposition for that city. I spent almost an entire evening locating one gay bar (far from Itaewon) which ended up being a waste of time with only two other older men as customers. It took a few hours on a couple of other evenings to locate on a side street what was called a sauna but was in fact a bath house. On the ground floor was a hot pool, cold pool, sauna and massage table in the middle with a couple of heavy lads seeming to scrub all the skin off one poor customer. It took a couple of visits before I realised the low-ceilinged upstairs with bedding units was where action took place. But K Pop had not been invented and none of the Korean youngsters in those days took much care over their appearance, sadly. Tokyo was vastly more exciting.