The Ultimate Stress Relief

Double checked, then triple, then a fourth time just for good measure. You look up at the building sat before you, at the spot it's supposed to be in, and wonder still if this is the right place.

It's because the building is rather unremarkable, by all standards. It looks like some random outlet building in strip mall. it's not looking like what you would call a "Luxury spa" from the outside. Let alone a "monster salon" of some renowned.

Though... what exactly had you expected it to look like?

Most monsters were practically people anyway. At least, they could look like that on the outside. They might have wings or horns or too many arms, but it's not like to be a monster you had to dress up like it was Halloween all year. Why would a building need to look "scary" to be owned by monsters?

You shook your head to yourself and decided to head inside.

Your friend had vouched up and down for this place, and almost begged you to take her discount offer. Though you hadn't seen her in a while, you finally decided to make use of the offer and have yourself a nice afternoon of relaxation. You'd earned it.

When you open it, the door jingles and a young red-headed woman at the front desk greets you with a bright smile. "Welcome to White Hot Therapeutics, how may we help you feel better today?"

"I have an appointment for one of your massages." You say, and pull out your registration card, and show it to her. "I'm booked for this afternoon."

She looked it over, than looked something over on a paper that was at her desk and nodded. "That you are!" Then she frowns. "Ah, but I see there was some trouble. You came here on recommendation, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Normally with human clientele we like to ensure the same artist works with all of you. It helps keep things wholesome amongst our finest hands, you see." She said like you might understand, when you did not. Nonetheless, she continued, "But the person whom you would have met today has recently retired from offering massage services, on account that he's settled down with a lovely partner."

"Oh, I see..." You say, still half confused. "Should congratulations be in order?"

"Yes! But Zack was quite the fine heat therapist, so it's a struggle to replace him. However, that means--"

And before she could finish speaking, another voice cut in. A man, who--when you looked over your shoulder to see him--had a rather relaxed manner. He was blonde with a messy hair cut that was long on the top but cut short on the sides. And he had remarkable green eyes. He looked your way with a kind of passing curiosity, and you think he looked at you in an equally interested way.

"Oh, Arlo!" The woman named him.

Arlo then said. "I'm free, and looking to burn a few hours. You don't have to cancel the appointment."

The woman at the desk looked relieved to hear that, but you put your hands up and said, "No, I wouldn't want to be a bother, I'm sure this place is busy and you have other clients to help. I'll just book another appointment, and..."

The woman at the desk pulled on your hand and you looked to her, in a more whispered voice, she said, "Don't say that! Take him up on the offer, he's the best heat therapist in the world! You'll never get service this good and this cheap again!"

She said that, and you sighed.

"Well, alright." Then you turned back to Arlo and bow your head his way. "Thank you. I have been feeling very tired lately and I was really looking forward to this."

"Then let's not make you ache any longer than."

For some reason, that made a heat rise to your cheeks. He had kind of odd way of speaking you thought, but you weren't much bothered as approached him.

"First! Let's get you signing these disclosure documents." The front desk woman directed your attention back to here. She had a pen and a clipboard ready, and she pushed them your way. "You can read them if you like, but it's just the normal stuff."

You turn to her, feeling distracted, and put your signature on the line she points at while barely glancing over the paper.

"I'm sure it's fine." You say, almost as if to justify it to yourself, and the woman nods.

After you signed, Arlo smiled, and he led you back into the building to where your massage would happen.

Honestly, it's a lot nicer inside than it is on the outside. It's the prefect spa space, with a sauna and hot rooms, and baths. The whole place seemed to be bottled up with steam once you were out of the lobby, and you wondered how they kept it so clear out there when it was so foggy inside.

Other than the strange focus on heat-methods, it all seemed rather normal to you. You got undressed and put your towel on and wet about letting your mind let go of all your worldly problems. Honestly, just being in here with is so peaceful was a rest you'd needed desperately anyway. By the time Arlo was ready to actually give you a massage, you'd almost forgotten that you'd needed one.

First, he'd prepared you a special salt bath, which you sunk into with a blissful kind of smile on your face. Your friend had been right to send you here--you'd never been this relaxed in your life.

Eventually he comes to take you out of the water, and seems rather happy to see you so pliant.

You follow him, feeling a little dazed and a bit giddy. Your so pleased, you laugh at just about everything he says, and do as your told while he leads you to a massage table. There he lays several hot stones all over your back, and with each one placed, you moan a little bit and your body relaxes that bit much more. It's like this place is just extracting every bit of stress you've ever had right out of your body.

Could this possibly be heaven?

You've even forgotten at this point, that Arlo must not be an ordinary man if he works in a monster salon. He seems rather ordinary to your eyes. But he is not ordinary, and in fact you are already well under his power before he even puts his hands on you. He can smell how soft you are in the steam of the room, and he intends on taking his time and savoring it.

What was he? Nothing but an incubus, a man-demon who fed off the pleasure of women. He liked to think himself better than some of his brothers and sisters, he didn't often feed on sexual pleasure. Normally he was rather content to feast quietly on the relaxation of the woman he put under his hands.

Normally.

Today, he finds something in him twist when he puts the hot rocks on your skin and you moan so sweetly. How a noise like that stirs the air with a tease which riles up his baser instincts. And then when he actually touches you... there were no words.

He touches you like he unravels you.

Your neck, your shoulders. Down your back. Your arms go lax, your hands lose their tension, then his hands move past your ass, just briefly, with one pleasant kneed, but you're too relaxed to care. Maybe you even make a pleased sound, but to your mind it means nothing.

It was just an accident. It had to be.

Then he touches your thighs, and you make a whiny kind of sound. You didn't even know you were holding so much tension there, it was so good you thought that you might cry. Down your knees, then your calves, and down more until he touched your feet.

Typically, you didn't really like your feet being touched. Your toes being separated, your heels being touched--it was all very unnatural. But slick oil soaked your skin and when his big warm hands touched where you were usually ticklish, instead you felt a flutter of warmth that seemed to just meld with the relaxation.

Each toe turned into an erogenous zone until you were gasping and whimpering without even realizing.

All the while he was very smug.

When he leaves your feet, he works back up your body, and when he next touches your ass, you stir a bit.

"What are you--" But when his fingers flicker between your folds and you moan, cutting yourself off, he just resounds a soothing sort of sound, and between it all, all your proper and good thoughts have left you.

He slips on finger in, just to feel how wet you are, then another slips in beside it as he curls them until your insides tighten and he quickly knows just where you prefer. He coaxes more moans from you as you writhe slightly in time with his fingers, until on all levels you surrender to him.

Climax hits you with a quiet kind of rolling rush, like it never began nor does it quickly end, and he whispers something devastating in your ear.

"Would you like some more?"

You just nod. But that is enough.

He would give you more and more. You cum again, and moan out his name when he asks, and when he asks if he can fuck you, or course you say yes. He'd make you so relaxed, so at ease, you would forget all your troubles and all things that gave you trouble.

Down to your very name, all of it was now his. And with it he'd take your body too.

It wasn't like he would treat you poorly, in fact he would treat you so well, you would worship him and all he does. But he was a still a demon, and a hungry one at that. Now that he had a taste of you, he wouldn't be letting anyone else of his kind possessing the same delight.

This is kind of your fault. You really should have read that legal disclosure you signed before you followed him back here. It didn't much hide what could happen to humans who used monster spas. It stated that if he has a liking for you, he can keep you, and he's invoking his right.

That's what Zack did to your friend after all. It only seemed fair that Arlo got someone to keep too.

Don't like it? Have a whole life you're leaving behind? Would you struggle under the firm guiding hand of a calm man who would remain totally unmoved by your pleas if you manage to pop your head above the ocean of satisfaction?

Too bad.

But don't worry, he'll be sure to have you so relaxed you'll drown in the deepest pleasure over and over and over again that you won't even think about anything as stressful as that stuff ever again...