Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Visiting the Sick and Hassan's Club
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As human society and its tools advanced in various ways, massage techniques had also evolved dramatically.
Massage wasn't just about pressing acupoints with hands—there were countless methods using all sorts of tools.
And what I was about to do now was a massage using this wooden stick.
"Wh-what? You use that for a massage? You're insane! Samaritans really are barbarians!"
But Hippolyte, clearly caught off guard, furrowed her brow and trembled slightly at the shoulders. It was so unlike her usual self—almost shrinking back—that it actually excited me.
I had gained the upper hand against this ridiculously strong woman!
"Lady Hippolyte, it seems you've never tried a stick massage before?"
"You're not thinking of hitting me with it, are you? I won't tolerate such rudeness!"
"It's not hitting. You roll it like this."
I pressed the round side of the club against my arm and rolled it like a wheel.
Rrrroll, rrrroll—
At the sight, Hippolyte's rigid stance softened a bit.
"You think rolling a stick like that will satisfy my body? Is that the Samaritan way?"
"Uh, yeah, something like that."
With no easy way to explain in detail, I just brushed it off as some Samaritan secret technique.
Truth be told, Hippolyte was overreacting to the club, but using sticks or round cylindrical tools to stimulate the body was a pretty mainstream massage method.
Foam roller stretches or bamboo massages were prime examples.
The human body has so many curves and streamlined shapes, so these round cylinders provide just the right ergonomic stimulation, or so they say.
I'd even tried rolling my little sister's diet foam roller on my back once.
It was perfect for modern folks with hunched backs and necks from computers and smartphones, as I recalled.
Anyway, since Hippolyte complained my hands weren't satisfactory, maybe this excellent tool could break down that rigid fortress of hers?
"It'll definitely feel great. Maybe even better than hands."
"B-better than hands...?"
Hippolyte pondered.
"Or are you scared of the club after all?"
"Hmph. A mere piece of wood? Nothing to it. Fine, give it a try. But if it doesn't please me, you'll be punished. You have to pay for daring to point a weapon at a warrior of Mars."
Punished?
The word punishment made me flinch for a moment. If I couldn't satisfy her, I'd get punished? I never thought I'd hear that from Hippolyte after Elfriede.
Swish.
Soon, Hippolyte pillowed her arm on the deer hide where I'd been lying and sprawled face-down. Her straight legs and taut, bulging muscles stood out defiantly, as if daring me.
We're this far in. Backing out now wouldn't make me much of a man.
Either way, another chance to touch this perfectly trained female body. My dick was throbbing hard.
Heh heh, at this point, anything I do is a win for me, right?
Thanks to that, I could leisurely admire Hippolyte's back, calves, and prominent hips as she lay there with her eyes closed.
"What, chickening out now that it's time?"
Hippolyte taunted me then, urging me on.
"Here goes."
I set the club aside first and pressed both palms into the insides of her shoulder blades.
Since Hippolyte was sprawled out in front of me for once, I was doing some corrections possible only in this position.
"Hup."
Crack.
"Ugh...!"
With a short burst of strength into my palms, the area near her nape cracked loudly. A small groan escaped Hippolyte's lips.
"Hoo.... What... what was that?"
"Simple correction. Couldn't tell just by looking, but touching it now, I see. Your whole body's slightly twisted to the right. Your muscles are holding up well, though...."
"My body twisted to the right? Hmph, ridiculous."
Hippolyte even snorted in disbelief.
But as I'd said, human bodies wear down over time, so it was natural for them to tilt one way or another based on whether you're left- or right-handed, or your habitual postures.
That's why occasional corrections like this were great.
Of course, explaining such complex concepts to people in this world wouldn't be easy. I didn't fully grasp the theory myself.
All I could do was...
Stroke. Ssstroke.
Press the curved spine section in the opposite direction to correct it.
"Hup!"
Craaack!
"Eeek...!"
The female warrior, who'd been lying still, jerked her head back and arched her waist. Did it hurt? Some people feel pain during corrections, which was normal.
It meant her body's alignment was off that much.
"Now for the pelvis."
I announced it to Hippolyte, who had slumped after holding her head back for so long. She just panted deeply with a "Hah...." and gave no other reply.
Taking her lack of refusal as permission, I bent her right thigh into an L-shape.
Surprisingly soft under the firm touch, that thigh felt amazing.
"Hoo, haa...."
Hippolyte seemed oblivious to my hands, focused only on her ragged breathing.
So I could sneak glances at her hips, prominently outlined by her tight clothes.
With her legs bent and spread, the inner thighs were visible deep inside—really bad for the eyes. That slightly parted bulge was definitely what I thought.
But before firmly correcting the pelvis...
"Uh, let's do some prep stretches on the thigh first."
I gripped Hippolyte's right thigh, bent in the L-shape, with both hands and kneaded it like milking, squeezing firmly up and down.
"Ugh...."
As I smoothly stroked from top to bottom like wringing milk, her hands on the floor clutched the deer hide as if to tear it apart.
"Hooo...."
"How's that? Feel good?"
"N-not at all...."
Hippolyte stubbornly insisted it wasn't refreshing.
Stubborn, huh.
She might lack other talents, but I had confidence in massages.
Even that prickly Kanfride always praised my massages, if nothing else.
So I had no doubt this tough female warrior was enjoying my touch.
Her strong pride probably just wouldn't let her admit a low-rank adventurer's massage felt good.
Of course, customers like this were common at my dad's wellness center. Mostly grumpy old men.
They'd grumble, "Not worth the money," but soon get hooked and slip Dad pocket money.
Ssslide. Ssslide.
Anyway, I put real effort into stroking Hippolyte's thigh thoroughly. To make a regular, pour your heart into first-timers.
"Haaaah...."
Her waist twitched each time.
The deer hide gripped tighter.
Her ankles starting to bend spoke for her.
Wait, she came in wearing sandals. Tracking dirt into someone else's house, you mannerless adventurer bitch!
"Hyaah...!"
Then Hippolyte jolted like she'd been shocked.
Slightly.
My left hand, stroking her thigh from top to bottom, had brushed the deep inside of her groin.
Not intentional, but her reaction was so intense I was shocked. She gonna stab me dead?
Terrified I'd accidentally groped her...
"...."
Hippolyte just lifted her head slightly, glared murderously, and said nothing.
As I racked my brain for excuses, she snorted "Hmph" and planted her face back down.
Somehow, we'd gotten past it, whatever it was.
"Th-then, pelvis quick."
I placed both hands on her slightly twisted right pelvis, felt the stiff joints and muscles, then suddenly powered my arms.
"Hup!"
Pop pop!
"H-hup...!"
The pelvis made a pretty serious sound during correction. But from Hippolyte, who'd been yelping nonstop, came surprisingly controlled breathing.
"Whew, hah, nothing to it."
Had a few experiences made her used to it?
"Now, time for the real deal with this guy."
I smacked the upright club against my hand. Solid inside—still a solid tool on retouch.
I placed it on her back and rolled it like a chef flattening dough.
Ssslide, ssslide.
"Uh, mm...."
"If it's too hard, let me know."
"Honestly, it tickles."
"Is that so."
I kept rolling the club roller from back to waist to hips.
On her prominently rounded hips, the muscles twitched as I rolled.
"Problem?"
"N-no. Nothing. Indeed, a good tool beats your amateur hands."
Did she like the club massage? That was almost praise from Hippolyte.
I rubbed every inch thoroughly, letting her firm, round body get used to the cylindrical pillar.
Especially focusing on thighs, hips, and inner groin.
"Hoo.... Not bad, refreshing."
As I pressed the inner thigh firmly with the stick, Hippolyte let out a melting breath, clearly satisfied.
Lymph node massage a hit?
"Hmmng...."
Anyway, I couldn't hide my odd thrill at stimulating this tough woman with my club.
She didn't notice, but my other club was rock-hard, straining my pants.
What would rubbing it on this sweat-dripping hot body feel like? Or burying my face between her cheeks—lewd thoughts filled my head.
No helping it; these past days sleeping with Luna meant no solo relief for my urges. With all these stimuli, my mind was overheated—I was at my limit.
"Alright, let's change position. Mind if I do your soles too?"
"M-my feet!?"
Hippolyte startled.
I vaguely understood women here hated showing their feet.
Even Hippolyte, with her manly side, reacting like this was unexpected.
"...Wh-why do you want to see my feet?"
"Just massaging. Rolling a stick underfoot feels amazing."
Anyone who's stepped on a round ball or stick would agree. The arch gets perfect stimulation.
"Feet have poor circulation and hard-to-relieve fatigue. Why not take this chance?"
"Hmm, hmmm...."
Face-down on the deer hide, Hippolyte groaned in deep thought.
"Just a massage."
"Th-then, one condition."
A condition for a massage?
First time for that, so I was puzzled.
"Yes? Condition?"
"Yes. Blindfold me. Even so, showing you my feet doesn't sit right. You can do it blindfolded, right?"
Ah, got it.
"Then I'll find something to blindfold you with."
As I rummaged around, Hippolyte slightly rose, untied the belt from her waist, and handed it to me.
"Use this."