Massage
“T-Teacher…?”
“It’s a gluteal massage,” Yohan said. “It’s a soft, pliant area one might easily overlook, but the muscles here tend to knot up quite readily. Loosen them properly and you can ease pelvic misalignment while correcting posture as well.”
“I-Is that so?”
“Of course. Especially right around here…”
His thumb drove deep into the flesh just beside the crease of her buttocks—into the particularly thick, yielding part—until it sank in as if carving a hollow.
“Hngh?!”
“That’s the piriformis,” he continued. “When it compresses the sciatic nerve, it can trigger all sorts of pain.”
Yohan rattled off technical terms she could barely follow while steadily kneading her rear. The thumb that had plunged so deep maintained its pressure as it slowly, firmly migrated outward across the cheek. A faint, refreshing ache mixed with pure embarrassment made her pelvis twitch.
“Nnh… aah…”
“Next I’ll loosen the entire gluteal group and release the fascia. The gluteus minimus, medius, maximus… massaging them thoroughly while working the iliac crest and the lower lateral aspect…”
The incomprehensible explanations kept coming. Her mind was already growing hazy. His voice had dropped into a low, smooth register that gently coaxed drowsiness, so much so that she began to wonder whether he was deliberately scattering her concentration.
And because of the incense filling the room, every time a spark of excitement tried to rise, her heart was forcibly soothed back into calm.
By the time she came back to herself, the moment for protesting that he had started groping her buttocks without a word had long since passed.
In the end she could only lie there, helplessly offering her rear to her teacher and letting soft moans slip free.
Tsk… well. Listening to him, it doesn’t sound like some made-up massage…
So maybe it was fine. A little kneading of her backside wasn’t going to wear anything out. Either way, the sensation really was pleasant and relieving.
“The back is finished. Now let’s massage the front. Would you turn over for me?”
“Ah… yes.”
The lingering imprint of his hands on her buttocks remained vivid—especially the spots he had pressed so hard still burned hot. A faint unease still lingered, yet after he had already completed the massage it felt somehow awkward to start complaining now.
She had no choice but to obey and roll onto her back.
At once those large, firm hands began stroking upward over her lower abdomen as if caressing it.
“Nnh… hahk…! Th-This…”
“You remember receiving this yesterday, don’t you? It’s a uterine massage. It helps with irregular periods and menstrual pain, and by keeping the uterus in a healthy state of tension it can prevent excessive bleeding. Since it’s such a vital area for a woman, it needs to be massaged thoroughly.”
Explanations poured out without a single pause. Had he prepared the lines in advance? How else could they spill out with zero hesitation?
Yes… she had definitely received something like this yesterday.
Pressing, stroking upward over the uterus…
Gathering the little room inside as if shaping it into a heart, gliding, gliding…
Rather than applying force, it felt more like someone gently petting her belly.
“Haaa…”
A sigh escaped of its own accord; it felt that good. Her head grew a little foggy too.
Still, if she thought about it carefully… yesterday she had been too out of it to question anything, but now the thought suddenly struck her: was it really all right to touch and massage a uterus so freely?
This was… an extremely important place for a woman. Even if she, originally a man, lacked that particular sensitivity… for an ordinary woman it would be a place she would instinctively shy away from, something shameful. And yet he was pressing into it so casually, making it feel good—was that truly just a normal massage…?
“Haa… ah… haaa…”
Her breathing grew rougher; her body was heating up. She felt as if a soft pink flush was blooming across her skin.
The hands that had been steadily massaging her lower belly gradually climbed along her sides.
By this point she had already let most of her guard down. Her Intuition was blaring alarms, so a thin thread of suspicion and unease still rose in her mind, yet her body simply would not cooperate. Something kept thumping, thumping deep beneath her navel.
She could not bring herself to argue rationally.
When she became aware of it, her hips were already swaying gently left and right—exactly like a well-trained cat or a vixen swishing its tail.
Then, without warning, the hands that had been working her armpits and arms swept firmly up over her breasts.
“Hnnngh?!”
Her eyes flew wide and her back arched hard.
Startled, she looked up at her teacher.
He wore a completely unbothered expression, brow faintly furrowed as though deeply absorbed in the massage.
As if to prove the earlier sensation had been no illusion, the edge of Yohan’s hand sank into her chest once more.
“Nnh… ah? Ahh… ah… ah…?”
Supporting the undersides of her breasts, he lifted and kneaded them with slow, thorough motions.
Caught in a strange, melting sensation, she found herself rubbing her thighs together without realizing it.
No… was this really okay?
He was touching her buttocks, touching her breasts…?
Was this truly just an ordinary massage? Not the kind of lewd service you got at certain establishments…?
“T-Teacher, this…”
“As you can see, it’s a breast massage. It helps flush toxins from the body and relieves muscular tension. Eileen, didn’t you mention last time that your chest felt quite sore?”
“Ah… w-well, yes, but…”
“A woman’s breasts are compressed by a brassiere all day long, so stress builds up easily. If you don’t release it regularly it can even become a cause of breast cancer. Stimulating the lymph nodes here allows toxins to be expelled effectively. It’s best to massage consistently two to seven days after your period ends, so watch carefully today and try it yourself later.”
“Ah… uuh…”
As if determined not to give her any opening to protest, the benefits and explanations poured out in a smooth stream.
When he spoke like that, questioning him suddenly felt foolish. It was as if he were saying, “I’m the expert—what are you going to do about it?” …Or was that just her imagination?
Kind, trustworthy Teacher Yohan would never harbor such wicked intentions… yet a strange feeling still lingered.
Of course breast massage itself wasn’t unheard of, but even so, shouldn’t one at least obtain the person’s consent before touching…?
“Ahh… nnh… hyaaa…”
Ah, whatever.
The more she listened to him, the more she felt herself being drawn in.
Perhaps because her muscles were relaxing, her whole body felt pleasantly languid.
Listening to that calm, even tone made the unease she felt seem truly insignificant. The way he spoke as if everything were natural made even the unnatural feel natural.
Maybe she was just overreacting. Maybe she was the one entertaining filthy delusions and needlessly suspecting her pure-hearted teacher.
She was stuck in an awkward middle ground—unable to protest, yet unable to fully relax either.
Yohan continued the massage with the same unruffled composure.
“Haa… ah… aaa… I-I can’t…”
Her mind kept insisting something was wrong, that she ought to object, yet her body clearly disagreed.
It was hard to put into words, but…
Every time he gathered the sides and undersides of her breasts and lifted them, a soft, fluffy sensation bloomed inside her chest.
Perhaps because he kept speaking in that sleep-inducing voice, her head felt a little hazy too. The thought There’s no point fretting over trivial things—it’ll only tire you out kept rising unbidden.
The sheer naturalness of his hands made her worries feel foolish. He stroked and lifted so casually, as if nothing were amiss, almost as though he were persuading her body itself… It’s all right. Don’t worry. Everything is fine—forcing her to accept it. That was the impression she got.
She hated to admit it, but honestly it felt good. His technique was skilled, and this body of hers was absurdly sensitive to this kind of stimulation. A body that could nearly climax just from having its nipples touched—what more needed to be said?
He hadn’t even touched truly dangerous places like her nipples or her sex, yet that alone was more than enough to arouse Eileen. No—because he deliberately avoided the most sensitive spots and focused only on the surrounding flesh, the teasing felt even more maddening.
When she came to her senses, her hips were fidgeting restlessly as if burning with need, and her thighs rubbed together again and again, the picture of thorough excitement.
The sensation was growing stranger by the second. She really needed to stop this soon.
In a trembling voice she caught his arm and pleaded,
“Teacher… m-my body… my body feels strange… P-Please… could you stop the massage now?”
“Hmm. So this is as far as we go for today. Honestly I thought simply reaching the buttocks would already be a solid success, yet you allowed me this far. Your mental hurdles are lower than I expected.”
“Pardon…?”
“It’s nothing. Now go to sleep. We need to begin the proper counseling session, don’t we?”
There was not a single difficult word in what he said. And yet the things he was saying now were far harder to understand than all the technical jargon from earlier.
Just as she opened her mouth to ask again out of sheer bewilderment, a sharp snap! of fingers rang beside her ear.
With a soft pop, it felt as though a fuse had suddenly blown.