ELIANO
The massage instructor walks into the room. It turns out to be… Pip.
He greets us, and when he sees us standing kind of cluelessly, he briefly explains the rules.
Salt is to undress completely behind the screen and lie naked on the massage table.
At the head of the table there is an arm with a small shelf attached to it, holding massage oils, a clean towel, and paper towels.
Pip turns on a video projector. On the wall, we see a massage therapist demonstrating a sequence of techniques.
These are the stages of today’s lesson, what to do first and how.
The other participants clearly already know these techniques, so for them it is just another massage session, following the video.
That does not mean I am completely uninformed about massages.
I trained in martial arts, and my coach used to give us simple massages from time to time.
Sometimes a sports physio would come in to help us loosen up after fights.
So at least in theory, I know a fair number of techniques, what you should and should not do.
But this is not the same thing. Here, the key aspect and the actual goal of the massage is interaction, not loosening tight muscles.
I glance at Salt. He has already been through one shocking situation, back in the medical office.
Maybe this is not quite as difficult for him now, but this is still a fairly fresh experience.
As he strips, this time with his back to me, I notice a line of decorative letters running down his spine, spelling out the word ‘Senu’.
I remember what Storm and Damien told me about Salt’s past, about how he took revenge on the people who killed his brother.
The fact that he has his name on his body feels significant.
We’ve only known each other for three days, so I haven’t really had much chance to talk to him about his family, and I’m not even sure I should be digging into it at all.
Still, the sight of Salt’s naked body affects me. My blood starts moving faster through my veins. Salt lies down on the table with an uncertain expression.
"Have you ever had a massage before?" I ask quietly.
"No, never," he answers through clenched teeth.
When I see Pip approaching again, I quickly grab the towel and drape it over Salt’s chest. It is large enough to cover everything, including his groin.
Pip notices the gesture and, of course, that familiar little smirk appears on his face. By that point, it’s obvious to me that anything showing possessiveness or protectiveness from an alpha toward his beta is seen here as something positive, desirable. No one reacts with disapproval.
I guess their everyday motto is pretty much: the stronger an alpha’s natural instinct, the stronger the release of pheromones, and the higher the chance of stimulating a beta’s reproductive system.
And when it’s not enough? They have Drax…
With a broad smile, Pip asks, "Do either of you have any experience with massage?"
"I don’t," Salt mutters.
"Well, I used to be heavily into sports, so I know a bit," I admit.
"It shows for sure," Pip mutters in a low voice.
Salt’s eyes send him a killer gaze, which only seems to make Pip even more satisfied. Yep, everything here is kind of a scenario meant to evoke a specific reaction, what a circus.
So I pretend not to hear his compliment and continue, "I’ve had massages, but they were more sports-oriented, focused on loosening tight muscles and deep relaxation. I’ve never done them myself; it was more like observing on the side."
"I see," Pip says, smirking. "Still, it’s good that you’re not completely new to this." He regards me with amusement. "But our main goal isn’t muscle relief, it’s stimulation of the limbic and hormonal systems. That’s why we focus so much on the glands."
He pauses for a moment, deliberately letting the words sink in.
"All right. I’ll show you a few techniques you can use on Salt, not only during massage class," Pip adds, looking almost entertained by the idea.
When he steps up to Salt and rubs oil between his hands, I tense immediately.
"Wait. You’re planning to demonstrate this on him?"
Pip raises his eyebrows, gives me an understanding look, then winks.
"If you’d prefer I don’t, we can use a mannequin instead." There is no offense in his tone.
He steps away briefly and returns with a mannequin roughly the size of a human body.
While he is gone, I meet Salt’s gaze. Somehow, I am almost certain that what I just did suits him just fine. It is hard to explain, but I know Salt did not want Pip touching him.
Pip starts by demonstrating a series of techniques for a gentle facial massage.
There are not many of those. Then he moves on to the neck, and that is where things get more complicated.
Working with the neck glands requires much more caution.
You have to know which movements are safe, how much pressure to apply.
Pip shows me on the mannequin, and then I take my place at the head of the table and start working on Salt’s neck.
Immediately I can tell that this type of massage has a strong effect on him. Salt’s cheeks turn red, and beneath the towel covering his groin, a distinct bulge forms. Pip seems to notice too, because that irritating smirk returns.
But that’s not the end of it. Next comes the chest massage. Pip shows gentle kneading motions around the mannequin’s nipples. Standing behind Salt’s head, I slide my hands under the towel and copy the movements, feeling how firm and tight his nipples get. Salt’s breathing quickens.
That’s when Pip says, "You know, I should be able to see what you’re doing to tell if it’s correct. It’s a delicate area."
"I don’t want you looking at his body," I growl through clenched teeth.
Pip doesn’t argue. Calmly, he pulls the mannequin closer and says, "All right. Then show me on the mannequin instead. I’ll correct you if needed."
So we continue like that. The simpler parts I do directly on Salt. The more precise techniques I practice on the mannequin first and only then use on Salt, whose cheeks are flushed and whose erection tents the towel hard.
From time to time, Pip steps away to spend a moment with the others, but sooner or later he always comes back to us.
I try to stick to the guidelines he gave me, even though it’s not about relaxing deep muscle layers, but more about stronger caresses.
My oil-slicked fingers move over Salt’s body in circles and zigzags.
Now and then, I let my attention linger a bit longer on his nipples, but eventually, inevitably, we reach the area near his groin.
Pip approaches us again and gives a brief instruction on how to massage the pubic bone area, and then he says…
"Of course, we encourage this massage session to have a… pleasant ending," he says, giving us a wink.
"I’ll leave you two for a moment of privacy," he adds walking away with that ever-present smirk on his face.
Once I am sure he is no longer anywhere near us, I slide the towel aside. Salt is flushed, his eyelids half-lowered, his cock standing at full attention.
But before I go there, I gently touch his cheek, trail a finger down his neck, almost catching myself doing it in a tender, caressing way, and speak quietly.
"Do you want me to…?"
"You don’t have to," Salt says through clenched teeth.
"And if I want to?"
"If you want to, then you can," he mutters, still through clenched teeth.
His cheeks remain deeply blushed, his entire body warm, almost humming with desire. A single bead of precum forms at the tip of his cock.
Well, even if Salt is too proud to ask for something like this outright, his body makes it very clear that he wants it badly.
I position myself at the level of his hips, take a bit of oil into my hands, and begin to stroke him slowly.
I try to keep a hint of a massage-like rhythm, making circular motions around the head, then long, unhurried strokes along the shaft, pressing firmly as I move from base to tip and back again.
I can hear Salt’s heart pounding hard in his chest.
His face is peony-red, eyes closed. He lifts his arms and throws them back over his head. His breathing turns ragged, and I know release is close.
But just before it happens, the fingers of my other hand slide between his legs. I draw a slow line along his perineum, until my index finger comes to rest against his now deep pink, almost burgundy hole.
"You have a really beautiful body, Salt," I murmur softly, and at that exact moment white jets spill from his cock, splashing across his chest.
Under the fingers resting at his entrance, I feel spasms rippling through his passage as his cock pulses again and again, releasing spurts one after another.
The orgasm must be intense, because I see his body tense, arching slightly, then go slack, as if all the air has been let out of him.
I take advantage of that moment to do one more slow, full-body massage, now that he is even more relaxed. Salt breathes deeply. At some point, I catch his gaze through half-lidded eyes.
There is something strange in it.
Something like gratitude, mixed with anger.
I am not sure where that comes from. I can guess that Salt is not happy about the growing closeness between us.
If my suspicions are right and he plans to escape from here, then getting attached to me is not in his interest at all.
Physical touch is an intense, fast, and very pleasurable form of bonding.
We do not say anything. I wipe his stomach clean with a paper towel, and only then does Pip come back over to us.
That damn promotional smile is still glued to his face. His green hair looks especially tousled today. Is he already getting ready for the evening dance?
"So, everything okay?" he asks cheerfully. "Did you enjoy the massage session?"
Neither Salt nor I answer, but Pip does not seem bothered by that.
"The next massage session is in three days. You’re all very welcome," he adds.