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"What are the options?" you ask. "Well, I can do a standard massage. I'll rub on your muscles to get out the pain and ache. "Or," she says, voice lowering, "there's the special. Guaranteed to help with other aches." As she says the second part, she moves a hand into your toweled crotch, which twitches in response. "Special."

With a smirk she opens your towel, revealing your semi-erect penis. She pours some kind of aromatic oil onto her hand as you wait expectantly. She begins rubbing your thighs and pelvis with smooth, strong motions. Your member becomes less and less flaccid with each stroke. Finally, once you are fully erect, she grabs your girth with a soft, strong hand. Slicked with oil, she goes up and down your cock with long, steady strokes. You gasp as another hand, soft, warm and oily like the first, grabs onto your scrotum. You tense up, but once she begins gently caressing your jewels, rolling them between her fingertips, you relax again. A variety of pleasures consume you as she alternates focus between head, shaft, and balls. You dribble a thin river of precum as you enjoy yourself. The masseuse leans over you and licks it, causing you to cry out as you nearly release right there. She laughs, and apparently isn't done with you yet.

You lose track of time since the massage began. Has it been 5, 10, 20 minutes? All you know is that your cruel mistress has been toying with you the whole time. Your hands grasp the sided of the table and your breating is ragged. Almost to orgasm with a spike of pleasure, then a change in technique that stops you from cumming, over and over again. At last, you feel her pick up the pace. Her slow strokes down your shaft shorten, and she works your head furiously. Faster, faster, more pleasurable, almost there. You feel your cum gush up, and with a relieved cry you shoot a mighty load in the air, landing on your stomach and chest. You pant on the table, exhausted.