SOL - Go to the spa

“I guess I’ll go to the spa,” you grumble.

“Great,” Tiff says, dragging you. It’s hot and miserable out. You’re very grumpy. Camera people and employees in cute shorts and polo shirts hurry around doing things. You know that you shouldn’t be complaining. You are out of prison. You are… in an elevated position over most of these people. You are far from your terrible father. You should be grateful, but you’re just pissed off.

“Amy’s booked up,” Tiff says as you approach the spa. “But I don’t care. I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

You can think of nothing that you want less than a massage from Tiff. Not that there is anything wrong with Tiff. She’s a tall beauty with a gorgeous figure and an incredible rack. The old you would have relished the thought of some private time with her. You would not have been able to rest until you saw her shriek in pleasure and those big breasts bouncing underneath you… but there’s none of that now.

At least there’s aircon inside. You follow her in only to almost run into Amy, a pale, dark-haired young woman wearing scrubs. She’s cute, but nothing special. You got… into trouble so quickly after arriving here that you never got to have a massage in this place.

“Tiff,” she says. They obviously know each other.

“I know you’re busy. Can I use a room?”

“Want me to just do it?” Amy asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” Tiff pats your bottom in a light, very platonic way. “She’s tense. Loosen her up.”

“Sure,” Amy says dryly, beckoning to you. She shows you into a changing room, where you strip naked and wrap a towel around your waist. You don’t care if she sees your boobs. You have gotten a massage exactly once before, and that was because a friend wanted to. The lady who massaged you was old enough to be your mother, not especially beautiful, but good with her hands. You rolled over, she saw your erection, and the massage ended with her drooling and panting, bent over the table while you politely blew a huge load over her fleshy ass instead of giving her a creampie.

It won’t be like that today. You reluctantly climb onto the table. It’s important to do what Tiff asks without complaint. She already doesn’t trust you. Amy arrives, rubbing oil on her hands and going straight to work on your bare skin. You can tell that she likes your body from your touch and the way that she talks to you. You’re used to that. You’ve always been popular with boys and girls. You’re just butch enough to get the attention of girls but womanly enough that guys look too. Amy’s hands run over your muscles with an unmistakable sense of admiration.

“So,” she says. “What’s got you so tense?” she asks.