The Boss's Seductive Massage and Videos of Shattered Men
The heat of freshly sprouted desire still lingered in my body, a pleasant sensation humming through my limbs. Someone was kneading my flesh with skilled, delightful touches.
"Mm...?"
As consciousness returned and my eyes fluttered open, I found myself lying face-down on the massage bed. A slick gel coated my skin—slippery but not unpleasant—and regardless of my will, those hands continued their blissful work.
"Oh? You're awake?"
The boss's voice came from behind me, and with it, the dream I'd just had flooded back. A shock like electricity jolted my brain. No matter how strong my libido or how vulgar I might be, dreaming of the boss having sex with Ha-jin oppa... And now, the boss from that dream—the one writhing sluttily, fawning over him with all her might amid waves of pleasure—was massaging me. It felt like I was still trapped in that dream.
"Ah... This feels so refreshing..."
Lately, my body had been stiff from those dreams, movements rigid and muscles knotted, leaving me exhausted. But the boss was expertly melting away that fatigue with her soothing touch.
"You passed out right after sipping the tea I prepared. You must be really worn out lately—your muscles are extremely tight here."
She pressed firmly into the back of my glutes and thighs while loosening my calves. A sharp pain drew a soft groan from me, but it melted into a cool, relieving pleasure.
"Wow... It hurts, but it feels so good..."
"I'm not the massage shop owner for nothing. I trained all the staff myself~ Of course, a few of them became employees after falling for my massages."
She continued working my glutes and—embarrassingly—the insides of my thighs, her voice soft and teasing as she chuckled. Something about that laugh felt oddly off.
"Alright, could you roll over for me?"
I complied, now facing her. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes slightly glazed, lipstick smudged on lips that breathed a faint, aroused heat. It made me think the dream might not have been a dream at all.
But those stray thoughts scattered as her hand moved suddenly, startling me.
"Now for your breasts~"
"Ah... My breasts...?"
"Yes~ Women's chests get so tense, especially. And with your size, we have to loosen them up."
She poured gel onto my chest. The cold stickiness surprised me, but her gentle hands soon calmed me.
Starting from the sides and undersides, she swept upward carefully, or gripped the muscles between my armpits and breasts. Tears welled up from the intensity.
"They look big from the outside, but feeling them... even bigger. D-cup? Nah, larger than that..."
"Nngh...! E-cup... It, uh, hurts a bit. Could you go easier...?"
"Oh dear... No wonder with that size—everything around them is knotted. We need to work it out more~"
Her once-painful strokes softened, caressing my breasts warmly. The tension eased, and in that relaxation, a sliver of true pleasure slipped in—not just relief, but genuine arousal.
She squeezed my breasts slowly with both hands, kneading and stroking downward.
"Hnn...♡ Boss...?"
Embarrassed by the sudden pleasure, I called out, but she just smiled and kept going. She'd stroke under my collarbone to focus my nerves, then suddenly grip and squeeze, flipping it into ecstasy. That addictive rush dulled my mind.
In my haze, her fingers circled my areolas—feeling so good, I let it flow. The stimulation made my nipples swell with anticipation, and she tapped them lightly with her fingertips.
"Ah... Nn...♡"
I barely stifled my moan from that light pleasure.
"Such sensitive nipples. Frustrated, maybe? Hubby's not satisfying you in bed~?"
Her words sparked anger; I sat up to snap back—but she suddenly sucked my nipple.
"Eek...! What are you...♡"
Her slick, sticky tongue toyed with my swollen nipple, drawing moans of bliss even from light touches. Then—chomp—she bit down, twisting the other with her fingers. The pain registered as pleasure in my brain, pushing me to an unbearable climax.
My back arched, legs rigid. Amid my feverish heat, her fingers forced into my soaked pussy, stroking my weakest spot relentlessly.
"Haa... Haah...♡ Stop..."
My mind blanked on the situation. It was wrong, but pleasure numbed everything. Her long fingers pistoned hard—then yanked out suddenly. The violent withdrawal slammed another wave of ecstasy through me.
"Hyaah... Cumming...!"
Tears streamed endlessly. Ha-jun oppa and I rarely went deep, maybe once—but her hands made me cum spectacularly, multiple times. Shame burned.
"Oh my... You're so sensitive~ I gave you a bit of erogenous massage since you seemed pent-up. Satisfied~?"
Lost in afterglow, staring blankly at the ceiling, I felt her gaze and smile. This was erogenous massage? Logic rebelled. It was straight-up foreplay. And it eerily mirrored my dream of Ha-jin oppa—chills prickled my skin.
"Oh, right—the next video. Just take it."
Her words snapped my fog, recalling why I'd come.
"Y-yes...? But that's your... sex... footage..."
"I wasn't going to at first, but since Ha-jin brought you, I trust you~ And it'll be more fun that way."
"Fun...?"
"Hehe~ Nothing at all~ Here's the USB. Sex friend vids—some are intense, so be careful~"
***
I got home with the USB—my goal. A storm had raged, worries piled up, but my mind fixated on it. Her warning about intensity ignited my curiosity, fanning it into arousal.
Fearful of waking sleeping Ha-jun oppa, I cautiously opened the files on my phone. Unlike the few therapeutic ones before, dozens awaited. Sex friends, she'd said—but so many? I felt oddly disappointed, picturing her as promiscuous.
But watching... disappointment shifted to faint envy. Men of all types—scrawny, athletic builds, pot-bellied middle-aged—knelt or submitted utterly to her, no resistance.
Early clips showed massages like the premature treatment I'd given Ha-jun oppa, or what seemed her erogenous ones.
Later, men were crushed under her feet, ejaculating flat on the floor; whipped cocks forced to cum; self-pleasuring under her ass; cocks crushed by feet in agony yet spurting. Their humanity crumbled.
Her warning rang true—too stimulating. Sparks crackled in my brain. That dangerous thrill twisted into excitement to try on Ha-jun oppa.
One file caught my eye: Premature Male Training Log. Many videos inside, as if she'd meant for me to see.
An average-built man sat on a bed. She started treatments like mine on oppa—but ignored his pleas, mercilessly pushing on.
It evoked what I'd done to oppa; imagining him there heightened my thrill.
Later clips: blindfolded from behind, she whispered sweet degradations in his ear, teasing his nipples. Videos showed nipple play and footjobs, stopping just before climax.
"Like footjobs?" He'd just twitch. Tormented, soon he came from nipples alone, cock shaking.
Her words echoed: men feel pleasure like women through nipples.
Other men devolved pathetically. Blindfolded, climaxing via nipples, she polished his glans with stocking-clad feet like shoe-shining. He screamed for mercy, but she continued—until he erupted like a fountain.
Another: he resisted half-heartedly, swiftly subdued, headphones on with unknown sounds, ass spanked raw. Initial rebellion turned to moans, then declaring himself her slave—and cumming absurdly.
Broken, endless handjobs kept him hard despite spurting; he writhed screaming, no rebellion. Frantic wanking yielded only precum. Agonized groans, then thanking her command before mad ejaculation. End.
Long videos, but I watched in a trance—oblivious to the world. Black screen faded; eyes met mine.
A woman grinning, thrilled to torment oppa. It was me—but the disconnect chilled me to the bone.