Inside the massage parlor, a hearth stood sentry between two expansive picture windows that faced southeast and overlooked the grotto entrance. The wind had picked up, making the snow rage against the glass, but it was powerless to affect the unclothed people inside.
Rosalind's daughters lounged amongst four padded tables. They were easily distinguishable by their shared lineage: a small screw tail, plump bodies, and dark hair -- except for one who was blonde. They wore loose-fitting, pink tunics made of silk that only came down to mid-thigh on the taller girls.
Upon entry of the guests, Vanora turned to look and heralded, "They're here!"
She hopped off the table where she'd been sitting and trotted over to the guests. "Are you ready for your massage?"
"We are," Azalea answered for the group.
"Where are Mrs. Whitehorn and Mrs. Harpy?" Vanora checked, not seeing them come in.
"They'll be here momentarily."
"Okeeey! Please come this way, and I'll introduce you to my sisters. The one with too much make-up and not enough face is Persicina, the second oldest."
Persicina harrumpfed.
"Next to her, with the cute dimples, is Galerina."
Galerina waved shyly.
"On her right, with the birthing hips, is Porta."
Porta winked and stuck out her butt.
"And where was the other one?" Vanora rested her elbow on the last girl's head. "Oh, there you are! This here is Chantrelle, our sister whose height all went to her boobs."
Chantrelle smacked her sister's arm away. "Don't pay any attention to Vanora the bore! She's just jealous I have more brains in one boob than she does in her whole head. If you don't have a preference, I'd love to work on these little cuties right here!" She pointed to the fairies and held out her hands.
Azalea responded, "We don't mind! We're all yours!" The two fae climbed out of Devin's pocket and stepped onto her upturned palms.
"Persicina is used to working on harpies, so she can take Mrs. Owl. Galerina and Porta, can you handle Mrs. Whitehorn when she arrives?"
"Yes."
"Yes, Vanora."
"That just leaves Mr. Ebonplume and I. We'll be over here," she directed him with gestures to a table.
Devin removed his robe and climbed onto the padded surface. Initially seated on the edge, he moved to a prone position on his stomach.
"Let's see what I'm working with today." Vanora ran her hands along Devin's back and shoulders and up and down his legs, making a mental inventory of which muscles needed the most work.
Pouring oil on her hands, she asked, "How'd you enjoy the mudsprings?"
"It was... an unforgettable experience," he responded with a grin.
"I'm happy you enjoyed it. Doesn't your skin feel so smooth and clean?"
"I can't really tell."
"Hmm. Well, I'm sure you'll notice when I begin. I'm going to apply the oil now."
Devin heard the rustle of fabric. He tilted his head to see Vanora untying her robe and letting her breasts flop out. He was more impressed than surprised.
She picked up a vial of oil and poured it down her chest, rubbing it all around with her hands. Leaning over him, she let her breasts settle onto Devin's back and slid them all over.
"That's, uh, a strong-smelling oil."
"Isn't it relaxing? It's made from orchid petals," she offered with evident pride. "Makes some people's heads feel a little floaty."
As she leaned back, she worriedly asked, "You doing alright? I'm not too heavy?"
"I'm, uh, fine."
"Momma says it's silly to put the oil on this way, but I think it covers more surface area faster."
Devin wasn't going to argue. Before he laid his head back down, he glanced over at the pair of giggling fairies being thoroughly lathered from the neck down within Chantrelle's deep cleavage.
Vanora hummed while she worked. Soon enough, his backside was glistening from shoulder to foot.
"I'm going to begin now."
And begin she did. Whether attributed to her skill or this being his first time, the effect was immediate. He sighed as her hands glided up and down his back. Her short and stubby fingers, with alternating pressure, seemed to know just where and how to work out every stubborn knot.
The warmth of the room, the aroma of orchids, the tactile sensation, and the humming made him drowsy -- at least until a cool breeze suddenly blew through the room.
Reina held the door open for Jeni, the frigid hallway air momentarily battling with the heat from the roaring fire on the other side of the room.
The three remaining daughters glided over and gave their names. Persicina took Jeni by the wing and helped her onto an X-shaped table diagonal from Devin. She laid down on her stomach, spread-eagle.
"You have lovely plumage, Mrs. Harpy."
"This one thanks you."
"I have several tools here I'm going to use to preen your feathers. We'll get them zipped back up, all nicely aligned. Would you like me to oil them as well? I have a lovely assortment of special ones to choose from." Persicina held out a tray with the oils for Jeni.
When Jeni pointed to one, the piglin commended her, "Good choice -- a whiff of pine scent mixed with this one."
Reina, meanwhile, was being led across the room by Galerina and Porta, each holding a hand, to a table across from Devin. It was customized for her kind's unique anatomy. An extended platform, barely a hand's length above the floor, was covered with a reed mat. A raised portion sat at the head with a sizable hole.
She stepped up and knelt on the mat. The professionalism Galerina and Porta exhibited made her a little less hesitant to remove her robe.
"Comfortable? I can move this higher or lower, whatever feels best."
"A tiny bit higher, please."
Porta adjusted the height and took the Whitehorn's robe.
Reina placed her head in the hole for her face. In addition to the heady aroma of the oil, the air was scented with some kind of incense.