Hera’s Massage Bangkok – Review

Hera’s Massage is only a few years old and has recently gained in popularity, slowly becoming one of the better known massage parlors in Bangkok. The shop and style of service is modeled towards Japanese customers somewhat similar to those of Doki Doki Bangkok or Mitu Massage Bangkok.

The shop is located on Soi 33 fairly close to the 7 Heaven Blowjob Salon and Akane Massage. Its fairly easy to spot as you walk into the alley with a large board to grab your attention.

Hera’s Massage Bangkok has been calling my name like a siren’s whisper from Sukhumvit Soi 33. I first stumbled in years back, half-expecting a full-on body-to-body frenzy, and yeah, it delivered enough thrills to keep me circling back. But let’s be real – this spot’s got that unpredictable edge, where one visit leaves you grinning like an idiot and the next has you side-eyeing the menu.

Last week, with the September heat still clinging to my skin, I dove in again for a 90-minute session, testing the waters (or should I say gel?) with fresh eyes. Spoiler: It’s still a monger’s gamble, but damn if the highs don’t make it worth the roll.

Phone: +66-64-7283956 Line: herasmassage 
Address: 12/3 Soi 33, Sukhumvit Road, Bangkok Thailand
Price: 2100 Baht for 60 minutes and 2300 Baht for 90 minutes. 800 Baht extra for the VIP Jacuzzi room.

The Girls at Hera’s Massage

Hera’s Massage Bangkok pulls in a rotating crew of about 8-10 ladies, mostly Thai with that fresh-faced allure that screams “spinner heaven.” No massive variety like the big soapy spots, but quality over quantity here – think petite frames, soft curves, and eyes that lock on like they know your secrets. I’ve sampled a few over my visits, and here’s the raw scoop:

• San (the Tease): Mid-20s pocket rocket, all giggles and glossy black hair down to her waist. Killer at the slow-build oil rub, loves wrapping those legs around for a sneaky b2b grind. Bonus: She’s down for rimming if you whisper sweet nothings, but her BBBJ game’s more playful nibble than deep-throat pro. Picked her last time – 8/10 for looks, 6/10 for full PSE delivery.
• Mae (the Wild Card): Curvier vibe, maybe 28, with tattoos peeking from her thong that hint at stories untold. Her Nuru slide? Slippery chaos in the best way – she’ll mount up and rock like it’s her personal rodeo. Enthusiasm cranks to 11 on FJ, but watch for the clock-watcher mode if you’re dragging. Total 7.5/10; she’s my go-to for when I need that raw, unfiltered Bangkok heat.
• Nok (the Sweet Surprise): Fresh face, barely 22, with that innocent smile that flips to devilish quick. Light on the massage skills, but holy hell, her soapy tub play turns into a wet dream – bubbly, bubbly, then straight to the bed for a BBBJ that had me seeing stars. 9/10 for energy, but dial it back if you’re after pro-level knots worked out.

Word to the wise: Mamasan’s got a sharp eye – let her steer if you’re picky, but don’t let the pushiness sour the start. Availability spikes evenings, so time it right for the cream of the crop.

The Ambiance

Step into Hera’s Massage Bangkok, and it’s like the soi’s hidden upgrade – no dingy fluorescents or threadbare towels here. The lobby’s a chill nook with plush seating and that faint jasmine whiff pulling you in. Rooms? Spacious for two, with mirrored walls that amp the voyeur thrill, a deep soapy tub that’s more foreplay pit than quick rinse, and fresh Nuru sheets that crinkle just right under your weight. AC hums cool against the Bangkok steam outside, lights dim to that golden haze perfect for losing track of time. It’s not luxe-spa fancy, but damn, it feels intimate – like your private slice of sin, minus the street noise bleed. Only gripe? The gel can get everywhere, so pack a spare shirt if you’re heading back to the BTS.

The Nuru Experience

Alright, confession time – I rolled up to Hera’s Massage Bangkok around 7 PM last Tuesday, sweat-slick, craving that full-body reset only a Nuru queen can deliver. Heart thumping like a bass drop, I nod at the mamasan – she’s all business, no frills – and she lines up three options. I lock on Mae, that tattooed temptress from visits past, and drop 2,600 THB for the 90. “Two shots, yeah?” I mutter, and she winks like it’s our little pact.

Door clicks shut, and it’s game on. She starts slow, dimming the lights while I strip down, her fingers tracing my shoulders with that feather-light tease that always gets me – internal monologue firing: God, don’t rush it, savor the build. Shower together first, hot water cascading as she lathers me up, her soapy hands gliding over every inch, lingering just enough to stir the beast. No rush to the tub yet; she towels me off with a smirk, eyes flicking down like she’s appraising her canvas.

Into the room, and here’s where Hera’s shines – that thick, goopy Nuru gel hits the air like a promise. She slathers it on, body glistening under the mirrors, then mounts for the slide. Fuck, the frictionless glide as she presses full against me, hips rolling in waves, breath hot on my neck. It’s pure sensory overload – slick skin on skin, her moans mixing with the wet smacks, building that ache till I’m gripping the sheets. Thought bubble: This is why I chase these spots – that edge where control slips away.

The Sex!

We pivot to the bed, her straddling for a b2b that turns feral – legs locked, grinding deep, her nails digging just right. BBBJ follows, no cover, all enthusiasm, tongue swirling like she’s starving for it. I pop first one quick, her laughing that throaty laugh as she wipes up, no judgment, just that knowing glance. Recovery’s a blur of light massage – she’s decent at unknotting my back, whispering dirty encouragements in broken English that crack me up. Round two? FJ straight up, her on top, riding like she owns the rhythm, tits bouncing in that hypnotic way that pushes me over. Clock hits 90, and she’s lingering, toweling the mess with a grin. Walked out loose, buzzing, wallet lighter but soul fed. Not flawless – wished for more tub time – but hell, in Bangkok’s massage maze, that’s a win.

Final Thoughts on Hera’s Massage

Look, Hera’s Massage Bangkok isn’t your flawless fantasy factory – the inconsistencies keep it gritty, like that one girl who bails on the extras or the mamasan with the side-eye. But for a monger wired for the thrill, it’s gold: affordable entry to Nuru nirvana, girls who flip from sweet to wild, and that soi seclusion that lets you unwind raw. If you’re in Sukhumvit hunting nightlife highs, hit it mid-week after dark – push for Mae or Nok, tip generous, and own the chaos. Me? I’ll be back next trip, boundaries be damned, sliding into whatever wild card they deal. It’s that addictive push-pull that fuels the fire.

Is it for you? I guess there is only one way to find out.