Marilith's Mending Massage

"I'm confident in my abilities."

"Really?" Trevor rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm not feeling relaxed at all."

"I can tell. Your muscles up here are tighter than a drum."

"Aren't you supposed to be doing something about that?"

"Certainly. But you need to let the tension out as well. My hands can only do so much on their own."

"I'll get right on that." Trevor simmered. Mairusa wasn't changing anything! Not that her hands felt bad by any means, but he couldn't feel any tension draining like in a proper massage. "Okay, I might be crazy for suggesting this, but why aren't you using your other hands? Surely those work just as well?"

"Would you like me to use them?"

Trevor's fists clenched as a growl built in his throat. "Just do what you have to in order to make this an actual massage instead of just... groping at my shoulders! You don't have to run every little thing by me. Take some initiative for once!"

She could take that the wrong way, but Trevor wasn't so hot on caring any more. The fact she was doing nothing annoyed him far more than the prospect of her doing too much.

She cleared her throat. Even that she did with composure. "I'll use my other hands, then."

Four more hands descended on Trevor, their precious touch sending shivers up his spine. Two began rubbing circles on the small of his back while the other two slipped between his shoulderblades, caressing the bone where it bulged. As if she'd stolen control of them, his arms went limp and a sharp breath wheezed past his lips. Six hands worked in sync, each stroke and grazing finger focused, stirring his muscles till they turned to goo. Trevor arched his back away from them, unable to stand the sudden rush of sensation, but Mairusa's hands pursued their prey without hesitation. Soon, all Trevor could feel was a sea of loving touches swarming all over his back.

She hadn't needed him to relax at all, and that bull about him relaxing was her trying to give him some illusion of participation. Fat lot of help that was. She should've done this from the start.

"Why didn't you say you were much better with all six hands earlier? You wasted a bunch of time."

"You're enjoying my hands, then?" A pleased smile grew on her face. "To answer your question: you did not seem comfortable with talking."

"The silence and ineffective rubbing was much less comfortable. And I still don't want to talk."

"Of course."

She poured her hands into her working, drawing every ounce of tension from Trevor's back whether he wanted it or not. Once his back had turned to mush, her hands shifted. Two began teasing the muscles on his neck, two descended his arms, and the final two shifted to his sides.

Trevor gasped and twitched when the last ones found their place.

"Ticklish, are we?"

Trevor grumbled. He wouldn't give into her teasing. It wasn't long before those fingers pinched and tickled at his sides, making him yelp and squirm. For the first time since the massage began, he lifted his head to glare at Mairusa. It darkened further when it met her all-too-content grin.

"Off limits," he said before laying his head back down.

"Whatever you say."

His neck muscles began to twitch as her hands loosened them up and tingles peppered his arms where her touch graced them. Trevor took a deep breath and closed his eyes, ready to zone out the rest of the massage, but for some reason, his thoughts would not slow down. He tried thinking about nothing, counting sheep, anything, but he kept hearing the trickle of the fountain, the friction of her hands on his skin, and his heart thumping in his chest. His back may have relaxed, but his mind had not.

"I grew up not far from here. On the other side of the city," said Mairusa.

"Yeah?" said Trevor. Might as well humor her.

"This is one of the few cities with a large enough mamono population to have schools designated for us. The one I went to wasn't fully mamono, just half, but that allowed us to interact with humans much more, even make friends with them." The hands on Trevor's neck moved down a bit and dug in harder, making him gasp. "Most of my friends were mamono, much like everyone else, but I knew a few humans, among them a girl name Nancy. She liked stitching, something she probably picked up from her grandmother, and as it turns out, six arms make you awfully good at stitching." She paused in reminiscence. "Well, they would if you're not butterfingers with all of them. Maybe that's where I picked up my dexterity."

As if to show off, her fingers on his arms and sides began groping at individual muscles, picking them out and rubbing each down with incredible precision and patience. Trevor's skin burned up where she touched.

"We made all sorts of things, most either entirely useless or revolting to look at. But it was something I had in common with a human, something girly, as it were. My mamono friends preferred sports like swimming or basketball, especially the mamono-specific ones like harpy racing. Since then, however, the hobbies of my younger years have faded away."

Trevor kept silent. It was nice to listen to her; her voice was as soothing as any massage, and the blunt sort of confidence she wielded with it laid cozily on his ears and his mind. It could be a part of some plan, though, some way to catch him off-guard, guile him into trusting her and then...

"How did you end up here?" he asked.

"This business is mamono-only, which makes things much, much simpler. That, and I didn't have the money to move away, as much as I might have wanted to."

"You want to move away?"

The hands on his sides suddenly dug into his skin and he winced, gritting his teeth as the mix of pain and pleasure hit him. "You seem ready for me to move on." Her hands left his arms, neck and sides, leaving warm wells of throbbing contentment where they had been. The six hands popped up next on his legs, three on each and firm, curious grips exploring his calves and thighs. "How high would you like me to go?"

"No higher than the towel."

She paused a moment, then nodded. "Very well."

Sinking into a rhythm, her touch sent both chilling and fiery waves through Trevor's body. Only after she had repeated her cycle of caresses several times could Trevor relax again, though his teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

Trevor hated the unabashed way his body betrayed him. With a few simple strokes and squeezes, she was playing him like a fiddle. Perhaps the succubus would've been a better choice? He dismissed the thought the moment it entered his head. Humiliation was better than whatever that succubus would've done. He just needed to get his mind off of her massage and those hands.

Maybe talking was his answer, even as little as it interested him. "So you're working here only because it's easy to? Did you even train to be a masseuse?"

"Mmm, no and yes. I trained before finding the job at a local school. I had hoped to find a job somewhere else but things didn't work out."

"Why a masseuse?"

"I enjoy helping people, watching their stress drain away under my hands and tail. I almost became a nurse instead, but circumstances didn't allow it." She leaned in toward Trevor. "I'm glad I ended up here, though."

Trevor whimpered. Her hands dug in harder, kneading the muscles with their terrible precision, and he felt his legs melt just like his back had. mamono or not, Mairusa was good.

"How about you? What do you do?" she asked.

Trevor closed his eyes in thought, considering the question before answering. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" She sounded a touch incredulous.

"Yep," Trevor grumbled. "Nothing."

"How did you end up in such a lucrative field?"

Trevor almost smiled at that. "Doesn't matter."

Her hands paused a moment. "It would help me relieve your stress if you talk with me a bit. Give me a chance."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I want to care. Because it's natural for me. I said I like helping people, didn't I?"

Trevor lifted his head to look back at her. She wasn't grinning, wasn't teasing him with a smile like before. Complete sincerity painted her face.

"I was an accountant. A numbers guy."

"Why did you choose to do that?"

"I dunno. Guess I fell into it? I went to college with a friend of mine, and he was all excited about being an accountant and I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life so I just followed him, like a lot of people. He was pretty smart, charismatic. Lots of people got swept up by his personality."

"Did you used work with him?"

Trevor sighed heavy enough for her to hear. "Yeah, used to. Got left behind I guess you could say. He was way too smart and ambitious for me to keep up with. He had some kind of gift. It's not like he discarded me, it's just... ahh, this is stupid. Go back to the massage."

"If it's something that troubles you--"

"No, I said too much already, it doesn't matter, just do your job."

Trevor buried his blush in the massage bed. Her massage had made him loopy and he'd ended up rattling on about things no one cared about. It's not that he blamed her for asking; it was her job to be nice. The sooner this whole thing ended, the better.

"You know, whatever success your friend did or didn't have has no reflection on you."

"Yeah, and whatever some random lamia who's paid to make me feel better thinks of me doesn't, either."

"Marilith, actually."

Trevor glanced back at her. "What?"

"I'm a marilith. It's a certain type of lamia. While lamia descended from snakes alone, marilith are an offset further changed by their demonic roots. We're something like a cross between a succubus and a lamia, but with six arms instead of wings and a tail."

"Fan-fucking-tastic." Heat rushed to Trevor's face. Sweat formed in his pits and on his face. A succubus-lamia. Did fate really hate him so much?

"Do you harbor some ill will toward succubi?"

"Oh no, it's just that they have a harder time keeping to themselves. Much harder. And they kinda kill men."

She had no comment on that and returned to the massage, but the silence that lingered between them had a certain weight of thought. Trevor closed his eyes and gave napping another shot, but he couldn't erase the scowl from his face.

He should just accept it, he decided. Accept that all mamono are going to have some sort of corruption, some inherent part that whispers at them to devour humans. No matter how nice they act on the outside, their monstrosity isn't limited to their appearance. Mike wanted him to give this place a try? Well, he did. And it turned out exactly like he thought it would.

"You have nothing to fear from me."

"I'm sure I don't."

That thick stench of silence came back just long enough for Trevor to recognize it.

"Please flip over onto your back."

Trevor hesitated. "Can we just call it a day?"

"I haven't finished yet. It would be unprofessional for me to let a client leave without receiving the full service they paid for."

"Well, I didn't pay for this."

"I don't care."

Trevor pushed himself up, twisting his upper body to face Mairusa. That may have been the first thing he heard her say with actual spirit to it.

"Look, lady--Mairusa--you're misplacing your concern. Maybe the next guy or gal who you help out deserves your time and effort, but not this one. It's wasted on me."

She placed several of her arms on her hips. "It is not up to you who I do or do not give concern to."

Trevor's eyes squinted in an incredulous stare. "Why? Why are you so persistent about this? I'm just another customer. Heck, I'm not even that, I didn't even pay!"

"I am persistent because I feel like it."

"Then you're crazy."

"That very well may be true. Please, on your back."

Trevor glanced at the door. If he went for it, would she try to stop him? Actually, he'd need his clothes first. Would she keep him from changing? Was she willing to go that far?

"If I get on my back, will you stop talking and finish the massage as quickly as possible?"

She nodded.

"Fine, then." He flopped onto his back and fixed his eyes on the ceiling. "Go crazy."

She approached and reached out.

"That's sarcasm, by the way. Don't really go crazy."

A small smile cracked on her wounded face. "I'll try not to."

"I wasn't trying to be funny."

"Then I'll try not to laugh."

Six hands descended upon him again, groping at his stomach, his chest, his arms. Trevor wasn't all that familiar with what sort of muscles one would massage on the front of your body, but Mairusa seemed to know her way around.

Trevor kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, keeping his face impassive to the swarm of gently caresses assailing his body. He'd given Mairusa her chance; no need to push it any further. In a way, he pitied her, stuck in a mediocre job, slaving herself away to the concerns of others. She probably tried so hard to connect with everyone that came in here and devoted far too much of herself to their problems. How could she, a single, temporary point in their lives, hope to fix anything? Trevor wouldn't call her presumptuous, but rather foolishly optimistic and short-sighted. A customer may walk out tricking themselves into feeling better than when they came in, but soon they'd realized nothing in the outside world had changed, and all that feel-good chatting had been a waste of their time.

The longer he stared at the ceiling, the harder his eyes tried to shift to Mairusa. He soaked in the detail of the ceiling, its cream color, the specks of shadow given off by the thousand tiny lumps on it, and the lights, how they were warm and easy on his eyes. Again and again, however, he caught his gaze moving slowly downward to his masseuse.

It became too much. He gave up and stared at her, expecting a smirk or something back, but received nothing of the sort. She was immersed in her job. Complete focus sharpened her eyes enough to cut into Trevor. Attention guided dexterous hands against his body, filling him with a refreshing warmth. His face flushed at seeing her so determined, like if she could just see through his skin, she could massage everything away.

'Why!?' he wanted to scream at her. 'Why are you trying so hard?'

Her hands achieved their purpose; Trevor's concentration broke and he sighed in contentment. Feeling his sigh on her cheek, Mairusa turned and smiled when she saw him watching her.

"Why do you want to leave, anyways?" Trevor swore he wasn't in control of his mouth half the time.

She hesitated. Not expecting him to talk to her, perhaps? "Because I grew up around here."

"Usually that's a good reason to stick around."

"Usually."

"And...? C'mon, you gotta meet me halfway here."

Her hands slowed. "I don't like the memories I have of this place. I would rather leave them behind."

At least she turned out alright, thought Trevor. At least she knew what she wanted to do with her life.

"What happened at your last job? Did you quit?" she asked.

He should have expected this, asking her about something so personal. "No, I was fired."

"I'm sorry."

"It was going to happen sooner or later, suppose it's best it's already come and gone so I can move on."

Mairusa didn't ask anything more, but Trevor could hear the question on her thoughts. Or perhaps he just wanted to vent.

"My boss got caught stealing money and blamed it on me. It's surprisingly easy to cut a little off the top and keep it for yourself if you're the one in charge of keeping track of it all. He screwed up though, got too greedy and someone noticed. So when it came time for someone to take the blame, he pointed his finger at me."

"Did he have something against you?"

Trevor chuckled. "He had something against the world. A complete asshole. I was just unlucky."

"And nothing happened to him? At all?"

"Nope. I should be glad I got away with just losing my job. There wasn't enough evidence to convict me of anything. I suppose since my story was that my boss was the one stealing, he probably had to lie low a while. Maybe he's gone back to it, maybe not. I don't care any more."

"I'm sorry. That's terrible. No one should have to go through that."

From the tone of her voice, Trevor could've thought she actually meant it. "Yeah, well, people do. I'm sure even you've gone through something like that."

She shifted to his legs. Massage was about over, then. As much as he tried to fight it, Trevor couldn't deny his curiosity. Not just about Mairusa, but himself. What made him talk to her? Answer her questions? He didn't owe her anything. A short while ago he wanted nothing more than to get out of here.

"Is that something why you want to leave, maybe?" he asked.

"Yes." Her voice sounded fragile enough to shatter.

"What is it?"

"My youth had complications."

"Like what? Discrimination?"

"That was one of them, yes. But I have a feeling I'd see that anywhere."

"Then what?" Getting an answer out of her was like pulling teeth.

"It's complicated."

"I've got time."

She looked him in the eyes. "You were not so curious a few minutes ago."

"Do you see the irony here?"

She gave a weak smile. "I suppose so."

"Then let's hear it."

Leaning back into the massage, she began her story. "My mother died when I was very young. My father didn't take it well. I was too young to remember what he was like before, but I was told he was a very open a loving person. The kind of man any mamono would hope to have father their children. I guess you could say he loved my mother too much.

"All I remember from him is apathy. Part of me wants to say he hated me, but I think the truth of it is he pitied me. Pitied that I couldn't know my mother, pitied that I didn't have the father he knew he could be. I learned to be self-sufficient very early on. He poured himself into his job, leaving little time for me. I think he wanted to spend as little time with me as possible. I heard I looked very much like my mother. Meals were fast food or whatever he could throw together. Once I learned how to cook our diets improved a little.

"My father actually made decent money, but he was always behind on bills, which led to immense debt. I was able to sort things out, make a budget, and get us to a place where we could live a little nicer, but he never bothered. Everything about him was so stagnant. Never got a promotion, never moved, only purchased new things when he was absolutely forced to, and even then, it required a lot of help from me.

"Outside of middle school, I didn't make friends. Didn't have time for them with all the responsibility I had assumed from my father. That human I told you about earlier, Nancy, she stuck around longer than everyone else. We still talked well into high school, but even she faded away. Or, I should say, I faded away from her." Mairusa glanced at Trevor. "All I remember about this city is the responsibility I had and the childhood I didn't. Everything about it reminds me of yesterday. The parks I never walked through with my parents. The playgrounds I never knew. The city blocks I never roamed. The bars I never went to at midnight because my friends dragged me out to them. The stories I'll never have. That's why I want to leave."

Trevor swallowed, trying to figure out how to respond to that. He couldn't really relate; they lived in different worlds. "I'm sorry," was all he could come up with.

"It's alright. I've come to terms with it. It's just hard to move on when every day reminds you of it."

"What's your dad doing now?"

"Still working the same job. I think he's doing a little better though, now that I'm gone."

"Sorry."

"There's nothing for you to apologize for."

"No, it's just... I came in here with all these assumptions, I guess I never figured someone could have it worse off than me. I shouldn't have asked."

"If I didn't want to tell you about it, I wouldn't have. And how good or bad my life is doesn't take away from the trials in yours."