The Witchy Massage Parlour

The Witchy Massage Parlour: A Magical Erotic Adventure

Stella Lovegood

All rights reserved.

Any reproduction of this written work, in part or in whole, is

prohibited

without express written permission of the author.

Blurb

A 7k word magical erotic sexual adventure.

A negligent, cheating, good-for-nothing husband sends his wife, a new mom, on a spa retreat as a band-aid solution before she can divorce him.

There, she takes a hot bath in a cauldron... and gets treated to a menu of decadent options like 'four hands massage', 'breast massage', 'vulva massage', and more...

It's a place she'll definitely recommend to all the lonely, underappreciated wives who need a little magic in their lives...

Trigger warning:

Public sex, glory hole, erotic massage, sex with strangers, no condom.

Something Witchy in this Massage Parlour, Here

She eyed the establishment wearily. The sign up front was hot pink, but it was impossible to make out what lay behind the opaque glass windows. They simply reflected the view of the street back at her, like a one-way mirror. For all she knew, her husband might have been sending her into a crack den.

Was whoever was inside watching her right now? Observing her hesitation and long deliberation?

Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath, then stepped forward decisively to push open the door.

A bell chimed overhead.

She'd expected the massage parlour to be crowded, but instead she was met with an empty lobby. At first, it didn't look like anyone was around, but as she walked towards the desk at the back of the room, about to call out, a woman sprang up from her seat.

"Hi!" she said, far too cheerily, like a cheerleader at a pep rally. "How can I help you?"

Sabrina smiled nervously and dug the voucher out of her purse. She slid it across the counter. "My husband got me a massage for the afternoon. He made a reservation; it should be under Lawrence."

"Sure! Let me check that for you." The lady grabbed the slip off the counter and typed furiously into her computer. A second later, she beamed. "Yup, got you right here. If you'll come with me..."

She skipped around the counter to a door to the side and held it wide open for Sabrina to walk through.

The hallway they entered was surprisingly dark, a sharp contrast to the warmly lit lobby they'd just been in. Only little lamps, styled like flames held within little metal cages, like what you might expect to find in a medieval castle, lined the hallways every few meters.

The lady led Sabrina down into its depths for what felt like ages. After a while, her eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. Finally, they turned down a corridor to the right and entered a small room.

In the middle of the room was a black tub. It took Sabrina a while to figure out where she'd seen something like it before. Suddenly, it came to her-it was a cauldron! She marveled at it, staring at the heavy, wrought-iron handles on its sides, and the deep lip of its rim. The water in the tub looked thick, like tar, and bubbled ever so slightly.

"That's our state-of-the-art hot tub," the lady explained, smiling proudly, and Sabrina felt ridiculous for thinking she was about to get boiled in a witch's broth. It didn't help that every corner of the room was covered in candles with thick melted wax. The flames flickered eerily in the dark, holding almost a menacing vibe.

"Before we start any massage, we like our clients to soak in their own private bath because it really helps to loosen up their muscles and prime them for their spa day."

Prime them? Like ribs?

Shaking away thoughts that she was about to get eaten, Sabrina nodded and placed her purse on a bench along one wall. She waited for the receptionist to leave, but she stood there, eerily peering at her like an owl.

"Should I undress now?" Sabrina asked, trying to hint at the woman to give her some privacy.

"Yes, you may take off your clothes and step into the bath."

When the woman didn't budge an inch, Sabrina sighed. At least it was a woman, not a man. Having to undress in front of a male stranger would be much worse. Besides, the doctors who'd help her deliver Anthony had seen the worst of her naked state.

Awkwardly, she shrugged off her shirt and unclasped her bra, setting them aside on the bench beside her purse before shimmying out of her sandals and skirt. Hesitantly peeling off her underwear, making sure her body faced away from the woman as much as possible, she gingerly climbed into the hot tub.

The water nearly scalded her. It was a tad bit too hot in the beginning, and she stood there, awkwardly naked, her ass out to the receptionist in what was bound to be a humiliating portrait of a postpartum woman whose husband was cheating on her, she thought sourly, but she began to adjust to the temperature soon enough.

Finally sinking into the water, feeling it wrap around her like a slippery blanket, she leaned her head back and sighed. Despite her earlier anxieties, it did feel nice and soothing.

"What kinds of scents would you like in your bath?" The woman spoke again, moving around the room to tinker with some of the little vials and bottles on a table on the other side of the room. "We've got lavender, salamander, eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat..."

Sabrina blinked, utterly confused. Eye of newt, toe of frog... weren't those all ingredients of witches' potions?

"... chamomile, eucalyptus, cedarwood, lemon?" The lady spun around to smile at her, not unlike the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.

Sabrina decided she must have misheard. She was probably just tired. Rubbing her eyes, she quickly rewound through the options and answered, "Lavender will be fine."

"Tongue of dog, it is," the woman cackled. Sabrina ignored her, assuming she was making a terrible joke.

"So, how can I help you?" The lady was suddenly peering at her much too keenly. She reminded her of Professor Trelawney, with eyes so great they looked like they lived in magnifying glasses.

Shaking her head, Sabrina muttered, "Oh, no particular reason. Just a husband who wanted to get rid of me, I guess."

That last part had slipped out of her before she could censor herself. She clasped a hand over her mouth, surprised that she had spoken her inner resentment aloud, but the lady only pranced about, energized by her secret.

"Oh, seems like there's some marital trouble in your past!" she sang gleefully, while pouring a few drops of liquid from one of the bottles on the table. They looked deep red in the dim light, glistening coldly, before dissipating slowly into the dark water. Sabrina swallowed, feeling slightly uneasy.

Despite her reservations, she found herself compelled to talk. "I think I got married too young. I shouldn't have let myself get talked into it. Jeffrey was good to me at first, promising to take care of me after we accidentally got pregnant... but I can tell he secretly hates me. Secretly resents being saddled with a wife and kid straight out of college."

The bitterness crawled out of her like a leech with every word she spoke. By the end of that monologue, she was spitting fire with each syllable. The receptionist held up what looked like a few shavings off a bitter gourd and sprinkled them into the hot tub like seasoning.

"Marriage is tough," she commiserated, nodding sagely. "It sounds like you are full of anger and resentment too, at a life you didn't get to live."

The woman's words hit a little bit too close to home, and Sabrina sank deeper into the hot tub, trying to pull the water over her chin like a blanket.

"I mean," she muttered, "sometimes I do wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't had a kid and gotten married so young."

"Well, of course!" the woman cried, in a motherly tone. She began mixing something in a stone bowl. "You're young. You're pretty. You'd probably have hot men lining up around the block waiting to open your car door for you."

For the first time that afternoon, Sabrina peeked up at the woman with hope rather than skepticism and derision. "You think so?"

"Oh, I

know

so," the woman replied, pouring whatever she had mixed into Sabrina's bath. She could have sworn the water glowed for a split second. She felt warm all over, like she could fall into a dream. Treading the water with her fingers, she relaxed further, feeling her leg muscles untense.

Well, it was great that one of them had confidence in her. She felt like she probably was pretty once upon a time, but Jeffrey never looked at her like he did before she got pregnant anymore. With a stab of jealousy, she thought angrily about the way she'd caught him staring at his secretary, like he was back to being a lovesick teenager. She was sure they banged on the regular.

"I wish," was all Sabrina said in response to the woman's inquisitive stare. Closing her eyes, she missed the delighted smirk that crept over the woman's lips. She whispered some incantations in the dark, then left the room momentarily to prepare the massage room next door.

"You're so strung out darling... Enjoy this little con

coc(k)

tion" were the last tinkling words Sabrina heard from the woman's mouth right before she disappeared.

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, she was being woken up to shift over to a room with a massage table in its center. Her dream had been strange. She couldn't remember details, but she saw many a shifting shadows, figures that seemed to move behind veils.

Some tried to reach out to her, grasping for her breasts, while others crawled up her leg, coasting towards her sex. One was just beginning to straddle her, about to slide its huge appendage between her legs...

She'd woken up feeling hot all over, just the slightest bit delirious.

"Okay, my dear," the receptionist said, sliding a menu into Sabrina's hands. Her fingers grasped the laminated sheets, wrinkly from spending so much time in the bath water. "What kind of massage do you want?"

Sabrina wondered briefly if this was her masseuse too. She supposed she should have asked for her name back when they first met, but the woman had never offered it, and now it felt too late in their interactions to politely find it out. She supposed she'd have to go the whole afternoon pretending she knew it, just to avoid the certain awkwardness.

She scanned the options on the menu, eyebrows raising as her eyes landed on "ten hands massage," "hentai massage," "breast massage" and "vulva massage."

She'd never heard of any of these. Swedish and hot stone massages were her favorite, but those didn't appear to be on the menu.

"What's breast massage and vulva massage?" she asked before her self-consciousness could catch up to her.

The receptionist swept her menu away with a clap of her hands. "Wonderful choices!" she said, without actually answering her question.

Before Sabrina could get another word in, the receptionist-her masseuse-gestured for her to lie on her front on the table. There was a hole in the table for her to place her face in. Positioning herself so that her forehead and cheeks fit comfortably against the headrest, she startled as her gaze tilted towards the cabinets below.

There was a dildo lying on the shelf.

The question stood on the edge of her tongue, waiting to be asked, but then died in her throat as she decided it was none of her business.

Still, as her masseuse began slathering massage oil onto her back, she couldn't help but stare at the dildo just inches away from her face. It was thick, with an impressive girth, and its head was bulbous and veiny. It looked so realistic.

She swallowed nervously. Even though it wasn't a real dick, it stirred something in her core. She never got horny looking at her own husband's stout, angry red dick, but peering down at this sex toy so close she could maybe crane her neck and stick out her tongue to reach it... she felt, suddenly light-headed, like she needed a good fucking.

As if on cue, the masseuse asked, "Oh, sorry, your voucher was for a budget massage. Do you want to upgrade to a premium one?"

Sabrina blinked, not sure what a premium massage even entailed, but then thought pitifully back to the lack of cash in her purse. "Maybe next time," she fibbed, already knowing that her husband would never cough up a treat like this for her again.

Not unless she threatened to leave him again, she supposed. Really, she didn't know why he didn't just leave her, given that he was so smitten with that secretary of his.

Chiding herself for letting her thoughts invade the physical sanctuary she was in, she tried to focus on the woman's fingers on her back. For such a small woman, she was surprisingly strong, and she deftly worked out many of the knots in her shoulders. She was beginning to loosen up, feeling herself melt onto the table like liquid butter.

The woman got to her lower back and began kneading her ass, almost a little too aggressively. Startling a little, Sabrina was about to turn around and ask her not to be so rough when the lady darted out a quick hand, spanking her. She stilled, cheeks going bright red as she registered the slowly forming handprint on her ass cheek.

"Don't start tensing up on me, young lady," the receptionist slash masseuse scolded. Meekly, Sabrina settled back down, wincing a little as the woman grabbed her ass almost obscenely, working it like dough with a rolling pin at a pizza shop.

She hadn't let anyone touch her butt all her life, not even Jeffrey even though he was a self-proclaimed ass guy, and now here was this everything-in-one lady who was handling her completely indelicately.

A lady who was privy apparently to the most intimate parts of her but whose name she did not know. Sabrina felt a keen embarrassment press its way down her back.

An embarrassment that ratcheted up tenfold as her masseuse's fingers drifted down to the back of her upper thighs. Every so often, they would dip down in between her thighs, brushing lightly against the folds of her entrance, as the woman lathered more oil on her sensitive skin.

She could feel the slick liquid coating her inner thighs and was embarrassed to feel the space between her legs heat up. The woman continued to skirt the edge of plausible deniability; if she was trying to tease her, Sabrina found that she couldn't open her mouth to ask her to stop. She could feel an old but familiar friend building up within her, a hot flush that she hadn't felt in so long.

She stared down at the dildo and wished she could grab it and place it between her legs.

Right before she began to start breathing heavier, the woman whisked her hands away to her calves, expertly kneading the tight knots, and the pleasure receded to sore pain. "Oh," Sabrina squeaked now, but only because her masseuse was working out a tight ball near her ankle. "Ouch, ouch," she whimpered.

"You'll feel better after it's done," the woman soothed, sounding proud of herself, "In fact, I guarantee when you look in the mirror, you're going to really enjoy your new makeover."

New makeover? What was she talking about? As far as Sabrina knew, massages didn't magically make you lose weight or gain a tight ass. Not unless this woman was a witch and could work magic on her, she scoffed.

Before she could ask her anything further, the woman slapped her butt and said, "Okay, you can flip over now."

Put off by the woman's aggression, Sabrina pouted petulantly as she flipped onto her back, feeling self-conscious again as the cold air hit her front and her nipples peaked against her will. She squirmed on the table, feeling the woman's eyes on her like she was a frog about to be dissected.

Drizzling a liberal amount of oil onto her hands, her masseuse placed her palms directly on Sabrina's breasts. Sabrina blinked.

Oh, okay, that was abrupt.

But, she couldn't find the will in her to object, as the woman's warmth seeped into her tender skin.

It almost seemed like the woman was muttering something under her breath. Sabrina decided that she had to be imagining things. She leaned back against the table, stared up at the ceiling and tried to get comfortable.

The woman began kneading her breasts, thankfully a lot more gently than she had kneaded her ass. Her fingers ghosted every so often over her nipples, teasing them with little nips and pulls, before cupping her breasts again, molding them with her soothing touch.

Before Sabrina knew it, her breaths were coming out in shallower bursts. She edged her thighs closer to each other, trying to ignore the heat pooling between them. Her toes curled at the end of the table.

How embarrassing was it that she was getting turned on by her masseuse's touch? This was supposed to be a strictly professional breast massage, to help with circulation and prevent breast lumps, she reasoned with herself.

But the hands working her breasts made her feel aglow with youth, as if somehow she was sexy again. When she dared a peek down at her chest, feeling her masseuse use a cool gel on her, she almost gasped.

It appeared that her breasts were plump and full, perfectly circular orbs, rather than their slightly saggy regular look. How was that even possible?

The woman pinched her nipples harshly, eliciting a gasp from Sabrina's lips. Coating them with the cool gel, she began rolling them between her fingers, humming softly under her breasts, and Sabrina felt herself rising into the air, as if pulled on invisible strings tied to her taut nipples. At least, that was how it felt like; she knew she was just imagining it all, but bliss had quickly overridden her logical mind.

Her masseuse cooed then, proud of her work. "Oh, see, you'll go back home with the prettiest breasts and your husband will come running back to you."

She retrieved something from under the table, then moved over to her legs. After slathering more oil all over every exposed surface of her skin, the woman prompted Sabrina to lift her legs and hug them to her chest.

Sabrina abided, feeling awkward the entire time, as if she was giving too intimate a view to the woman in front of her, who was practically still a stranger.

It wasn't like she knew anything about her.

"Oh my, I can't imagine why your husband doesn't want to fuck you," she said blithely, unaware of the shock her crude words sent through Sabrina. "You're nimble and so flexible-not a lot of women can get their legs straight up over their heads, you know, dearie-and your vulva is so perfectly shaped."

At that, she dipped her finger between her pussy lips and Sabrina jerked slightly at the sensation.

"Oh!" she cried, startled and shocked that her masseuse was so brazenly touching her. Before she could launch into a tirade though, she remembered that this was probably part of the vulva massage that she had unintentionally asked for.

The woman began applying the cool gel all around her opening, taking her time. As she settled a finger on her clit, Sabrina sucked in a thick breath of air, trying to get ahold of her rapidly beating heart.

Was a vulva massage what she thought it was?

Her masseuse nodded sagely. "Just as I thought. Your poor vulva has been neglected. Dearie, you have to take care of yourself, and really, your husband should be taking care of you too."

She began rubbing light, little circles into the bean above her opening. Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her mouth open against her will as she whimpered.

Her cheeks flamed, embarrassed. She'd never been touched there by a woman. Sure, she'd had women look at her vagina from a purely medical perspective, but the only people who had touched her so intimately were men.