Mariliths Mending Massage

For the millionth time that day, Trevor read the gift card.

'One free massage, courtesy of Mamono Massage, the most unique massage parlor out there! Come enjoy the relaxing touch of a tail, tentacle or paw you can't find anywhere else!'

Grimacing, he moved down to the fine print:

'Expires 2-28'

Today, in other words. He wished he knew what was going through Mike's head when he bought this thing for Trevor. Mike knew he didn't like mamono. Everyone he worked--well, used to work with knew that. Did he get this during some cheap Valentine's Day special? No, Mike made plenty more than Trevor, so Trevor wouldn't expect him to skimp on a gift.

Trevor let out a shaky breath and let the gift card fall to his lap. Mike wasn't always 100% there. Brilliant, yeah, but Trevor couldn't always tell if he was brilliant on a level much higher than his own mind, or lower. Sometimes Trevor felt his friend had a little goblin in his head, switching his brain on and off whenever he got bored.

Trevor's original plan was to just trash the thing and pretend like it never happened. Mike, however, had thrown a wrench into that plan when he started asking Trevor about the gift card. Every day, some kind of question or reminder or comment or something. He almost seemed excited to hear about it. As much as Trevor might have wanted to, he couldn't just throw the gift away. He couldn't bring himself to do that to Mike.

Grumbling, Trevor lifted up the gift card and read it again. Still the same description, still the same expiration date. He could hear Mike in his head, saying, "It'll be great, man! You'll get the kinda massage that could change your life!"

The only kind of change Trevor wanted in his life was a job. And whatever he got, he certainly wanted it far away from any mamono.

"It'll help you get over your fear!"

A completely healthy fear, one that kept him safe and single. It wasn't like he couldn't function around mamono, he just didn't enjoy their company. Or much anything about them.

But what could he do? He owed it to Mike for putting him up after the fallout at work. And it wasn't like he didn't have some tension in need of relief. Trevor whacked his head on the dashboard. This wasn't going to relieve any tension.

Enough dilly-dallying. He was here, it was the last day to do it, and he had nowhere else to be. Just had to get it over with. All the mamono that worked there were surely professionals, though he wasn't positive the definition of 'professional' was the same for humans and mamono.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the parking lot. There weren't many cars around, and no one had come or gone the whole time Trevor had been outside debating with himself. Not entirely unexpected, he supposed. The place wasn't top notch, out back behind some strip mall with a parking lot that needed some attention, though the storefront looked nice enough. A working neon 'Open' sign stared back at him from the tall windows. He tried to look inside, but the glare from the sun made it impossible to make anything out. At least that daylight would make it less likely they'd try something? Maybe?

"Just gotta do it," he whispered to himself, and got out of the car.

By the time he got to the front door, his palms were sweating and he could've sworn he was running a fever. A shaky hand pulled the door open and a bell chimed.

"Oh! Welcome! Come right on in, hun!"

His greeter was a peppy little thing, wearing a modest enough shirt with the company logo over her heart. Two cattle horns grew from her head, her ears were far too big to be a human's, and her tits were... generous, especially for her size. She certainly knew how to wear a smile, though.

'Even the receptionist?' thought Trevor. Actually, no, *especially* the receptionist. This place marketed hard on their masseuses being mamono, of course the first person a customer met, the receptionist, would be one too.

"H-hi." Ugh, he was stuttering. Good going, Trevor, show them exactly how worried you are around them. I'm sure they love that. "I'm, um, here for a free massage?" He shoved the gift card out in front of him, hoping the receptionist knew what to do with it.

"How 'bout that?" She had a soothing, mild sort of drawl to her voice. Still wearing that smile, she took the card from him and swiped it. "You know, ya the first guy to redeem one'a these. See a lot more gals in here."

"Oh. That's nice."

"What's your name?"

"Trevor."

"You get this from your honey, Trevor?"

"No, I... I, ah, don't have one."

"Oooh, you best not say that 'round the girls here, they'll snatch a cute thing like you right up."

Trevor pulled at his collar. Did the air get thicker somehow? It wasn't going down to his lungs so easily. He should've kept his mouth shut, but what else was he going to say? 'I got this from my male roommate as a 'Sorry our asshole boss fired you' gift?'

"I won't," he replied.

The receptionist gave him a look before turning to her computer. "Well, I got a few girls available right now, or you can pick from anyone who works here and then make an appointment to come back some other time."

"No appointments." Absolutely not. He'd never be coming here again. "Do you have anyone who is, umm, not so mamono?"

Wow. That sounded horribly racist. Or specist? Was that a word? "Sorry."

Fortunately, the receptionist wasn't fazed. She reach over, and laid her hand atop Trevor's sweaty one. "Hun, I hear ya completely. Not everyone who comes here is ready to dive right in. I'm just happy to see you here."

Trevor watched her tongue roll around her cheeks as she scanned the computer screen. "Hmm. Well... no, probably not. Not her. Ehhh, not her either. So either her or..." She took a moment before looking back to Trevor. "I think your best bet is Aneru. She's been doing this a while, knows how to lay it on real gentle if that's what you want. And as a succubus, she's--"

"No!" Trevor shook a hand at the receptionist. "I mean, please, no thank you." No succubi, never a succubi.

The receptionist gave an understanding nod. "Alright, hun, you don't need to do anything you don't wanna. But that only leaves one other girl I think would work, and she's not all that human." She raised a finger before Trevor could protest. "However, she's wonderful with new customers, very easy to either chat with or completely ignore, your choice. Not only that, she--" The receptionist paused to look around and make sure no one else was around. "Between you and me, she gives the absolute best massages you can get here. The other girls get a little jealous 'cause her equipment gives her somethin' of an advantage."

"Equipment?" Trevor swallowed. "I'm not so sure I want to know what you mean."

Her gaze softened and she clasped her hands together, resting them on the desk. "I understand, really, I do. I've seen all sortsa people come in just as nervous as you. There aren't really a lotta mamono 'round the city, and the exotic allure of it all fades a bit when you're actually here in-person. Now you're tellin' me you don't want to make an appointment, and I'm telling you I've got two great gals who I guarantee will send you off feelin' better than you could dream. I want you to have a good experience, but you gotta work with me."

A succubus or a something with 'equipment'. Trevor paled before the decision, his legs about ready to drag the rest of his shaking body out the door. On one hand, a soul-sucking demon who'd probably be taking a little something from Trevor but looked mostly human, on the other, a supposedly more sociable mamono who was much less, well, human.

Sweat smeared all over his hands as he rubbed them together. He considered asking exactly what kind of mamono this other option was, but at the same moment realized it didn't really matter.

"I think I'll go with the second one."

"Excellent choice, dearie. Now just take a seat and I'll go back and get her."

Trevor gave a meek nod before shuffling to the nearest chair and collapsing into it. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd signed his own death certificate. Or even worse, marriage certificate. mamono were notoriously aggressive in that regard. They'd likely take a gesture as simple as redeeming a gift card here as a personal indication of interest and pounce him. As proactive as mamono were known to be, though, they were even more respectful of established relationships. Maybe out of fear of the other woman, or maybe it was just part of their culture, but all came to a screeching halt as soon as they knew you were taken. He just needed to keep his single status a secret, and he'd probably--

Oh no. He told the receptionist. He told her he was single! Trevor shot up from his seat. No no no no! He had to go back and get her and make sure she didn't tell anyone! One step forward, though, and he was already frozen. Go into the back of a building crawling with mamono? That was just asking for it! His eyes shot to the door. Was that the answer? He'd pushed himself so hard to get this far, but circumstances had changed. Yes, running was his only option, else whoever came out of that back room would be pouncing his fatally-bachelor body.

He took one step toward the door.

"Trevor?"

Caught! Not even two steps and he'd been caught! It'd been a good life, he supposed, but not nearly long enough. Determined to show at least some semblance of composure, Trevor wiped the sweat from his face on his sleeve, forced the knot in his throat down, and turned toward the voice.

Then nearly fainted.

Standing right next to the receptionist was something more than a lamia. He recognized the long, winding snake tail ending where the human half's waist began, and even above the waist she was mostly human, just... with extra arms. Six in all, two pair resting at her sides with the last propped on her hips. Hips, yeah, she definitely had those, more than any half-snake woman had any business boasting, and a smooth stomach he caught sinking in with her breath. His eyes soaked in tan skin as they rose up her chest and across fine bosoms held in place by a modest sports bra that teased at showing more. Slung around her waist was a burnt orange towel, seemingly loose enough to fall off at any moment, though she didn't appear to be concerned with that. She had her hair propped up a bit and from there it splashed down her back and front, silky and so fluid Trevor felt an urge to reach out and touch it. It was red, but not colored at all like any redhead he knew. It was darker, much darker, like blood stained with ink. Her snake tail was much the same color.

When he thought he'd seen everything, he noticed her ears subtly pointed. Like a cherry atop a sundae of inhuman features.

"Hi, there. I'm Mairusa. You can call me Mai if you'd like."

Her voice carried refinement but with an aftertaste of frankness that caught Trevor off-guard. Her words laid so heavily on the air Trevor could've sworn he tasted them. They tasted like wine.

Blinking, he yanked himself out of whatever trance she'd put him under. His eyes darted back and forth between her arms. If this was an introduction, was he supposed to shake one? mamono did that too, right? And if so, which one? All of them? Or just the one side?

In a desperate attempt to keep his head from shouting at him until he went deaf, Trevor shoved his hand out between himself and the sort-of-lamia, squeaking, "Trevor."

I stared far too long, thought Trevor. She's got me pinned as a mate now. Would she stop me if I tried to run? He gnashed his teeth behind a rigid smile. He couldn't do that to Mike. Or himself. He'd come too far.

She clasped his hand with one of hers, giving a brief but confident shake. "Pleased to meet you. Now if you would follow me?" She gestured with her many hands to the back, then slithered ahead.

Trevor looked to the receptionist, eyes pleading, but she wasn't there to bail him out. With a warm smile and a wave, she sent Trevor off to his doom.

His forced smile fading, he ambled after the lamia. He had to give her a fair bit of distance as her lengthy tail ate up most of the hallway for quite a ways behind her. Trevor imagined her rearing high up on her tail like a cobra, extending those six arms to look like a hood, then striking with the blinding speed. Maybe she'd just hold him; he heard a lot of mamono were touchy-feely and nothing more. Maybe she'd wrap him up for hours of sex, or maybe she had powers like a succubus where she'd drain his life away, hold him at the cusp and use him as food as long as she decided to keep him.

Trevor shook his head. No, there was no way they'd let a mamono like that work at a real massage parlor. The place would go out of business if they abducted all their customers. He needed to be reasonable about this, keep his head level. He was going to go in, have a quick massage, and get out.

He realized he'd been playing with his hands again and stuffed them in his pockets. Perhaps he was a nervous wreck, but he didn't need to be constantly reminding the lamia of it. Weakness could only lead to trouble.

Dragging his eyes up off the floor, he watched the lamia's back as she swayed to and fro. Her arms swung at weird intervals and Trevor found himself oddly interested in the shifting of the muscles and bones on her back. He'd never seen six shoulders before, never really thought about how it would work either.

She turned into a room and Trevor tensed. It was time.

The room was nothing if not cozy. A cushy massage bed lay out in the middle of the room, a dull, cream-colored light filled the room and on the opposite side of the room, a translucent shade covered the entrance to what Trevor guessed was a small changing room. The sound of softly flowing water tickled his ears. After a moment of thought, he realized the obnoxious hum of air conditioning had disappeared as well.

The lamia moved her tail out of Trevor's way and gestured to the back of the room. "Go ahead and change, I'll wait out here. Would you like to use oils today? No extra charge."

His manufactured smile failed to make it back onto his face. "No, I'm fine." Stiff steps carried him into the changing room. He did his business as quick as he could, constantly glancing at the entrance, and only walked out when he was sure the towel was tight and secure around his waist.

"Please lie down. I'll be getting your back first."

Trevor watched her many hands move about as he approached the table. Two were at her sides, two were rubbing against each other, and the last two were pushing her abundant flow of hair behind her back. He couldn't imagine having so many arms; he'd lose track of them constantly.

Running a hand across the massage bed, he paused. The soft, puffy material invited him in, but he couldn't bring himself to just lie down. On his stomach, no less, where he wouldn't be able to see that lamia move around at all. Each second he fell further into the well of his mistake, yet every time he stopped to look back, he imagined escape was only a hop away.

His eyes darkened. He needed to give up on the notion of turning back. The mamono had shown no real hostility, and they worked at a respectable--well, they worked at a business, at least. Besides, he was already in a room, alone, mostly naked with a mamono. If she wanted to do something, she could--without an ounce of consent from him.

Trevor glanced over to the lamia. She stood there silently, a small warm smile on her lips, many hands waiting patiently. The receptionist had said she was good with newcomers. Surely she could see how stressed Trevor was, how nervous and hesitant he approached the bed. Shouldn't she be saying something? Trying to calm him?

If he kept this ridiculous inner debate up, he'd be standing here forever. Clutching at his thumping heart, Trevor took a deep breath, counting the beats, waiting for it to calm. This was happening.

He laid on the bed slowly, making sure his towel covered everything. It was easy enough for mamono to get ideas, he didn't need to give her help. He rest his face in the special headrest and stared at the floor, wincing. Any moment now.

"Are you ready?" Her tongue still slathered every word with composure and sincerity.

"Yes. Yes, I laid on the bed. That means I'm ready."

"I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

"Well, neither did I, but I'm here, aren't I?" He cringed the moment the words were out of his mouth. "No, sorry, I didn't mean that."

"It's alright. You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Just... just start, okay? I'm already lying down."

"If that's what you'd like."

Trevor closed his eyes. He heard her scales shift as she slithered closer, closer. His body was on fire. The well of anticipation swelled to overflowing. His muscles tensed and burned, fearing the touch that was soon to bear down on them.

It came. And surprisingly, Trevor didn't die.

He cautiously opened his eyes. The floor still looked quite the same. He hadn't exploded or been crushed in a whirl of snake coils. He was also pretty sure his soul was still in his body. The only change was the touch of two hands on his shoulders, rolling gently around his muscles. Soft, warm strokes played across his skin as nimble fingers searched for knots. All things considered, it wasn't horrible. Maybe not heavenly, but better than all the other things he imagined the lamia doing.

He gave himself a pat on the back. The worst was probably over. All he really needed to do was lie here for another twenty minutes or so, the lamia would do her job, and then he'd leave. Heck, he didn't even have to look at her any more. He could simply imagine it was a normal human giving the massage.

Frowning, his train of thought came to a halt. He remembered six hands, yet only two were on his back. Strange. Not that he was disappointed or anything, certainly not. But he hadn't been expecting such a normal massage.

Trevor shrugged mentally and dropped the matter. He'd asked for a massage as done by a more human mamono, maybe the receptionist had told this lamia--what was her name again? Mairusa?--as much. Considerate of her. Closing his eyes again, Trevor did what he could to loosen his muscles and enjoy the massage however her could.

Yet, as the minutes passed, Mairusa's hands working his shoulders, peace evaded Trevor. In fact, he grew only more tense. Was it typical to spend so long on the shoulders or was it just him? How long was the massage going to take if it progressed like this? Did she intend on never using more than those two hands? Trevor figured she'd speak up somehow, maybe with a, "You're so tense," or "How does it feel?" but she remained entirely silent. Take away the trickling of the fountain and the rubbing on her hands on Trevor's bare back, and the room would've been devoid of sound. This may have been a relaxing atmosphere to her, but did she intend to take his opinion into account? She didn't know what he thought of her massage or what he was looking for. Circumstances dragged him in here, the least she could do was attempt to be friendly. His friend had paid for him to have a mamono massage, it'd be a waste if he didn't get to see what that would be like, if only a little.

Either the receptionist had been lying or ignorant; this lamia wasn't any good with new customers. Or at least customers that required more than an ounce of work. Well, if the receptionist had said he could ignore this lamia as much as he wanted, that's just what he'd do.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Trevor had always been terrible at ignoring things.

"Did you want to talk?" He could've sworn he caught some teasing there.

"I'm not saying that, I just think a host like you should try to be more sociable."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Again, I didn't say I wanted to talk... but how are you supposed to know how well the massage is going if you're not going to ask for feedback?"