Spike couldn't pin down how it all started; sure he could've just said it was the one or two incidents which landed him here, but those had been problems arising from his ongoing situation, so it couldn't be those. It couldn't be the situation, either, because that had just escalated after he'd hit eighteen. Maybe it was his adolescence, but according to Nurse Redheart, what he was going through was a result of a "genetic quirk", as she'd called it, and so it was an innevitability that had been certain from his birth, even before then. Would he have to go back all the way along his family tree to figure out where it had all begun? It was fruitless, but it was still what his mind wandered to as he trudged across Ponyville to the spa, following Twilight in the bright morning light, two of the only people up and about on the Sunday morning.
He couldn't blame her, not with how much of a strain it had been on her. Heck, it'd been a massive strain on him, his free time gradually taken up more and more locked in his room, his comics exchanged for magazines of a less family-friendly nature. Twilight wasn't one to pry, but when his weekly pocket money kept running out within hours of being given to him, and more and more boxes kept appearing underneath his bed, she'd felt the need to investigate. Both their faces were aglow when she confronted him on just how many magazines were stuffed into those boxes, and how much he'd spent accruing them. It had taken a very frank, and humiliating, discussion to get to the bottom of his financial recklessness, but after he'd admitted to her just how strong his urges were, Twilight had done what she'd always done, and tried to research solutions. When that failed, she'd tried reaching out to others. When that failed, she'd tried magic, and potions, and natural techniques like meditation, none of which worked.
It was after his eighteenth birthday that the troubles really started. Spike had never been partiuclarly stoic around Rarity ever since he'd first laid eyes on her, but even after he'd grown accustomed to her presence - her svelte, slender-legged, full-chested presence - she was still an irresistable temptation to him, especially after his hormones had redoubled their effort to make his life a misery. He had always been boyish, chubby-cheeked and pint-sized, but he'd hoped to have grown into a tall, broad-shouldered, chiseled, handsome man, with a jaw that could cut diamond, a torso that could be used as a riot shield, biceps that could eclipse a man's head, and a voice deep enough to rattle windows. He didn't get his wish; he'd stopped growing pretty quickly, leaving him less than five and a half feet tall, and he was slim, slender, and hairless in all the places he considered real men to have hair. He didn't even need to shave, which was the real torture - even if he'd had a patchy beard, at least owning the foam and straight-bladed razor would've made him feel more manly. Instead, his button-nosed, soft, smooth face was bare and cute.
Unfortunately for him, Rarity had just so happened to be looking for such a specimen to model for her, and he was told his figure was perfect - "the beauty of the innocent, human form", had been her words. All she needed him to do was strip naked and pose for an hour or two, in any way he liked. Normally, he would have been enthused at such a prospect, but the necessity of being naked, in front of her, no less, filled him with dread. It had taken a lot of coaxing for him to remove more than just his shirt, and a lot more for him to strip down to his birthday suit, nevermind actually turn around and face her. He'd been blushing brighter than a lighthouse when he finally did. It would've been hard to obscure the bulge in his underwear or through his trousers on any day, but with nothing to cover him, it was impossible to hide his erection. Rarity didn't comment on it, but the slight tinge of red on her cheeks and the smile on her face told him she'd noticed, and that she found it sweet, cute, and endearing.
When he'd been allowed to get dressed, he did so while making as little eye contact as possible, taking his payment with a murmur of thanks and rushing out of the boutique, hearing his one-time crush titter at his embarrassment. The silver lining was that the day could hardly become any more awkward than that - or so he'd thought, until he wandered into Sugarcube Corner to buy something cold and refreshing to cool his head. It hadn't been busy, and as soon as the bell rang over the door, Pinkie Pie had rushed out from the back to greet him, ushering him into the kitchen to ask for a favour. He followed obediently, learning from the energetic woman that she needed some help baking, since she'd been suffering the recovery pains of having sprained her ankle not too long ago, and couldn't move quite as fast as she'd have liked. Spike had suggested a massage, not considering just what effect it might have on him until the woman had kicked off her shoes and socks and was sighing in contentment as his fingers worked their magic on her ankle and tendon.
The sounds she made, the expression on her face as he touched her, the feeling of her in his hands - he couldn't have known it would've had such an effect on him, and soon he was panting, feeling his jeans straining to contain his arousal. It had only been when he realised she was looking at him curiously, her eyes fixated on a growing dark patch to the right of his crotch, spreading around the bulge like lava spilling thickly from a volcano, that reality had hit him like a slap to the face, and he'd pulled back, stammering an apology and an excuse about not meaning for that to happen. For the second time that day, he'd felt utterly humiliated, and as the shame mounted, he'd bolted from the bakery and kept running, wanting nothing more than to hide away and never show his face to his friends again.
It hadn't taken Twilight long to find him, both Pinkie Pie and Rarity in tow; they knew him too well for him to be able to truly escape them. It had been difficult to explain just how difficult daily life was with his raging libido, but he'd managed with their support, and Twilight had taken the executive decision to have Nurse Redheart examine him, something she'd agreed to not do prior to his issue escalating. There, he'd been told that his sex drive was perfectly natural for someone of his heritage, and that all that was wrong was a genetic quirk. It hadn't made him particularly feel any better, but at least they'd known what they were working with.
Armed with the knowledge of what they were dealing with, and knowing that abstinence wasn't a solution, Twilight had managed to locate a means to help him relieve his stress; the Ponyville Spa, where stress-relieving, full-contact touching was a norm, and where asking just how far that service extended was a matter of having the courage to slip it casually into conversation. He didn't know how the princess had managed to make the arrangement, from approaching the twins to coming to a conclusion on the details of what would happen, but he knew it involved a hefty sum of bits a solemn promise that everything would remain clandestine.
That was why Twilight led Spike around the back of the spa to the rear entrance, usually reserved for staff and professional use, and knocked in a melodic pattern. After a few seconds, the door opened slightly, a quick whispered conversation took place, and Twilight stepped aside so the door could be opened fully. Waiting for them was Lotus, one of the two women whose services Spike had used many times in the past, but never in the same way he was about to. Looking to his friend and mentor one last time and receiving a comforting squeeze on the shoulder and a nod, Spike hesitantly shuffled into the building, lowering his eyes bashfully to avoid looking at the woman.
His heart raced as he was guided through the empty building to what appeared to be the only operational room, judging from the light pouring out from inside. Despite everything, he was glad they'd agreed to do this on a day where the spa was ostensibly closed, minimising the number of people he'd have to interact with. Already, it was difficult, knowing what was going to happen, but if he'd had to explain the situation to them in the first place, or conduct the arrangement in full daylight in front of other customers, whether or not they were aware, he probably wouldn't have been able to go through with it at all.
The massage room the same as when he'd visited before; neatly folded towels were piled next to an adjustable bed, which was fitted with a soft tear-resistant sheet for cleanliness. It was odd how familiar it was, given what they'd be doing here, though it did make sense that a massage - in whatever form - would require a similar setup. His heart thudded like a war drum as he took in the sight of his destination, his anxiety at the awkward novelty mixing with the welcome familiarity and pleasant memories of his previous - more innocuous - visits to the spa. He began wringing his hands when the door clicked shut behind him.
"S-so I know we're here for a reason, b-but how about we have a normal massage, and tell Twilight everything went to plan?" he suggested, smiling nervously at the twins. To his dismay, they smiled sweetly and shook their heads.
"I'm afraid not, mister Spike," Aloe answered. "Miss Twilight was very specific about what our services were to be, and she has already paid."
"You don't need to worry, though," Lotus continued. "We are professionals, and we will treat you with the utmost care. Please remove your clothes and lay on your back."
"We've worked with you many times before," Aloe added. "You know personally how relaxing and rejuvenating our services are, and we enjoy having you as a customer. Think of it as a special spa session."
Even with their assurances, and he was assured by their soothing words and melodic accents, the momental task ahead of him filled him with dread and shame. It was like riding up a track on a rollercoaster, knowing that a massive drop was yet to come, or stepping over the edge for a bungee jump. As soon as he did this, what followed was unstoppable, and he was entirely in control of the process. With shaking hands, he tepidly pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, the momentary deprivation of sight almost convincing him that he wasn't exposing himself to two - admittedly gorgeous - women, right until the garment passed over his head and he was given a full view of the room.
"Allow me," Aloe offered, taking his top from him and neatly and effortlessly folding it into a compact fold. There was something comforting about it, just like their soft tones had eased his nerves, if only temporarily, just a minute earlier. The simplicity, the niceness, it made everything easier, if only marginally, and so when she looked at him expectantly, her gentle smile encouraging him to continue, Spike found the courage to begin removing his jeans.
They suited him well, he thought, even if Twilight thought they looked a little tacky. Rarity had his back, praising his appearance when he expressed his interest in the skinny jeans and had trialed them for her, and with her vocal approval, they'd quickly become his trousers of choice, the denim hugging his slender calves and his - somewhat embarassingly large - padded behind, glutes, and thighs. It wasn't quite the same plushness as Pinkie Pie's body, nor Fluttershy's, or even Rarity's womanly figure, but it was hard to say he didn't look at least a little girlish. He had a sneaking suspicion that was why Rarity offered him so many modelling roles these days.
This time, he was astutely aware of the eyes on him as he unzipped and wiggled from his jeans, the waistband compressing his fleshy rump as it passed down over the malleable globes, exposing the form-fitting boxer-shorts which were practically vacuum-sealed to his groin and the underlying white skin that would magnetise the gazes of plenty of red-blooded men, so long as they didn't know that the legs actually belonged to a man. Peeling the jeans from his calves and kicking them away left him vulnerable, unprotected against the gazes of the two women in here with him, but even as he straighted up, eyes cast down, he knew it wouldn't be enough. Soon, they'd be asking that he-
"Remove you underwear, if you please," Lotus requested of him sweetly, right on cue. It had been innevitable, given what they were meant to be doing, but that truth did nothing to stop the chills that ran through him at the thought that he'd have to strip utterly naked in front of these two women he'd known for years. How was he supposed to-
"Or you may lay down as you are," the woman continued, interrupting his anxiety and prompting a curious and relieved gaze from the young man. The twins were smiling in their ever polite and friendly manner at him, that happy, welcoming, non-judgemental visage which made them so successful and beloved around the town. "Your comfort is a priority, of course."
"Yeah, of course," Spike repeated, his runaway heart slowing a little at the soothing assurance. "I'll just do that."
Laying down was easy; swinging his legs up and reclining into the embrace of the massage parlour's special bed did much to relax him, and it was almost easy to imagine he was just here for his usual routine. As he wiggled into place, turning over to lay on his front, he thought about the times he'd come here before, enjoying the creams and lotions and various applications that had been rubbed onto his body with practiced, moisturised hands. They'd always been so soothing and comforting back then, and he felt that same sense of enroaching relaxation begin to take him over as he got settled, the first brush of fingers across his shoulders only mildly shaking that peace of mind. His heart was still pounding, but it was far less than when he'd first walked in, and he didn't feel the urge to hide or bolt from the room.
The fingers teasing their way across his skin progressed to palms sweeping over his shoulders, gradually reducing his tension with every back and forth pass they made. His muscles loosened under the tender progression, all the rigidity and stress that had built up from his work with Twilight and his friends breaking down and being whisked away by the simple, skilled touches from the two women. As one worked his shoulders, caressing her way up his neck all the way to his jawline and back down again, while the other kneaded his feet and his thumbed his ankles, leaving him as relaxed as he remembered feeling. It was that state of relaxedness which came after a period of stress, when the tension sloughed from the body, melting and draining to some unseen void that didn't concern him. Their tender touches soothed him, inflicting bliss on every section of skin with which they made contact, loosening him until he was a limp puddle of a person.
The preliminary massage was soon followed up by a much deeper, far more sultry sycthing, their palms gliding up and down his soft, doughy skin, coaxing out the deeper tension down in his muscles. His back cracked and loosened, his calves and glutes softened, and his anxiety melted away, leaving a pleasant calm in its wake. As his contentment grew, Spike sighed happily, smiling as the hands continued to wash away his anxiety and the stress he hadn't realised he had been carrying. His back felt more limber already, his shoulders no longer ached with the strain of some physical task he must've carried out in the last month, and he could very nearly feel his eyes drooping closed, responding involuntarily to the siren call of rest that the expert touches wove through him.
It was because he was so comfortable that the careful pulling at the waistband of his underwear didn't send him rocketing from the padded table in alarm and panic. As promised, they'd made him comfortable, they'd given him absolutely no reason to be scared or to doubt their intentions or methods, and all they'd done so far was exactly what anyone would expect from going to a massage parlour. It wasn't unheard of for patrons to go naked so they had more coverage, particularly with the oils and ointments and lotions and creams that some people liked to have applied, so all that was really happening was that he was trying a new service. In fact, that was all this was; a new service. With that thought in mind, he found the courage to lift his hips to give the masseuse room to pull the obstructive garment away, feeling the cloth slide over his soft bottom and limp manhood, and then down his legs to be derailed and placed alongside his other apparel.
There was no rush of shame or crippling embarassment, like he'd expected. He felt a little concious of his bare behind, literally naked in front of these two women, but it was completely bearable. Now that his attitude had shifted, convinced by the kind and professional conduct of the masseuses, it didn't feel taboo to strip down or be exposed, and he didn't feel like there was much to be afraid of. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips as the twins returned to work after a brief pause, their hands warm and slippery from whatever product they'd applied out of his line of sight. It was magical, whatever it was, and he found himself groaning softly again at the easy glide of their palms over his body and the pressure of their passes, the women leaning their weight more into their technique to work deeper. The passes were too pleasant to call frictionless, given the firm brush of skin against skin and the way they were able to manipulate his muscles and deep tissue in ways he never could, but the smoothness as they grazed past was almost effortless.
His shoulders and back, his ankles and calves, all the parts of him they'd already worked over - and that Spike thought had been thoroughly satisfied - were revisited, relieving even more pressure and tension that he couldn't have guessed existed. How they knew it was there when he himself didn't was a mystery, but one he didn't care about. He was too busy sighing and murmuring joyfully, basking in the expanding peace and pleasure that was spreading outward from the various points of contact on his body, like an aura unleashed by the golden touch of the magicians servicing him. They might as well have been magaicians, at least; he'd been less impressed with Trixie's display than the total satisfaction this brought him.
Fingers pressed into his glutes, squishing her buttocks up in an effort to rub the oil into every patch of skin the twins could reach. First from beneath, where his thighs met his shapley, rounded cheeks, and then from above, where the small of his back warned that this was the last socially acceptable place to be touched. The digits worked their magic, rubbing and relaxing, spreading the slick substance over his body, and the palms followed, advancing in circles towards the middle point of his body, where the twins would meet. It they felt awkward, they didn't show it, moving striaght onto massaging his globes with no change in pace or pressure. He blushed slightly, but didn't feel like he needed to stop. Despite the context, it was just as relaxing as any other part of him being rubbed and squeezed and kneaded.
The context was what made his shaft twitch, though. He felt himself growing hotter, his heart beating faster and more firmly in his chest, and the part of him that had initially been laying against the towels covering the massage table was now pressing against it, growing more insistent and forceful. The pressure grow, his organ pulsing as it became more agitated, responding to the ever more intrusive touches of the two gorgeous women. Their hands passed over from one buttock to the other, glazing his cheeks with their delightful oil and drawing ever closer to parts of him no one else had touched before. They moved ever downward, leaving nothing clear of that pervasive, greasy damp, from his coccyx to his inner glutes. They brushed ever so close, inching nearer, caressing his groove and causing him to throb harder. He tensed, a wholly different tension building in him as they-
"Your back is done," Aloe announced as all four hands left him synchronously. "If you would turn over so we can start on your front side, Mister Spike."
The anxiety returned, though this time, it was laced with frustration at being lead on so cruelly. Reluctance and blind, self-interested enthusiasm collided, leaving him confused and uncertain once again. He knew what turning over would entail, and while part of him was dreading it, a much more significant part of his mind was thrilled at the innevitability. That's what it was, after all; he'd have to turn over at some point, and they'd have to complete their massage. Steeling himself, and very much aware of a particular part of him that was overjoyed by the experience he'd been subjected to so far, the petite boy awkwardly rolled himself over onto his back, his face red as he did so, and waited for what came next.
Thankfully, it wasn't laughter, which was what his biggest preconception had been. The second biggest fear had been that they would make a big deal about it, like Rarity had, cooing and giggling and treating him like an object to be ogled and admired, but more like a cute animal than a desirable man. Once those fears had been put to bed, he realised that the silence wasn't exactly comfortbale either, leaving him doubting what they thought about him. Did they care? Was he just another customer? Was it gossip material, something to talk about with others who knew him? As if they could read his mind, the twins didn't leave him stewing in murky paranoia for any length of time.
"You're not the first customer to have these doubts," Aloe commented, smiling knowingly from above him, palming his neck and working down to his shoulders. "It's easy for young men to feel inadequate."
"You wouldn't believe how many strong and confident men are meek when they have to sit naked in our parlour," Lotus added, causing her sister to giggle at some memory the two obviously shared. "All that muscle and pomp, but when the towel falls away, all they can do is blush and look away."
The admissions made Spike feel better about himself, falling back into the embrace of shifting palms and prodding fingers as the twins continued their rhythm over his body. Still, there was a niggling itch in his mind that he couldn't shake, and so he asked, "So I look...g-good?"
"Very handsome," Lotus assured him.
"Soft and gentle," Aloe added.
"Uh, thanks, but I meant...uh, n-nevermind."
"Your penis?" Aloe asked, not breaking her stride in the slightest. The word was so simple but so brazenly spoken that boy was stunned into silence. "You have nothing to worry about."
"It's not too small?"
"Not at all. Bigger than some people."
"How many people?"
The twins shared a smile with one another, and Spike realised he was digging for information on other customers. He winced, figuring he sounded needy and pathetic, asking about other men's parts to two women just doing their jobs. He was about to mutter an apology when Aloe beat him to speech.
"Have you had partners who have made you feel insecure about yourself?" she inquired.
"What? No, of course not," Spike answered, conjuring up an image in his mind of Rarity smiling when he'd modelled for her. "Not really."
"You've been reading too many magazines," Aloe deduced. Her tone wasn't condescending or judgmental. "You think a normal man, or a good man, should have a tree trunk between his legs, and be chiseled from stone. That's a very unhealthy obsession, and you need to realise that you're perfectly normal, and very much good enough."
Spike looked down at his member, the masseuse's words playing through his mind as he considered himself. From what he'd seen, as well as heard from loose-lipped women around Ponyville, good men were packing something substantial downstairs, and he'd figured from what he'd extensively read in his magazines that twelve inches was the average. How was he supposed to compete with well-hung men when he didn't have the hunky body, the dashing looks, or even the average sized malehood? Four inches below average was humiliating, regardless of what Aloe and Lotus told him, and that didn't include that he was thinner than he'd have liked, lacking the sort of thick shaft and wide mushroom head that pornstars seemed to obsess over.
"He's still doubting himself," Lotus tutted, slathering oil over his knees and up towards his thighs. "Mr Spike, we are not lying to you, regardless what previous partners may have said to you."
"I haven't actually...had...any partners."
His face flushed as the two women made noises of understanding, the feeling of being out of his depth returning to him, in spite of the gentleness and quiet compassion of the two women. Through it all, their hands kept working, smothering his soft, impressionable skin with lotion, thoroughly sweeping over every inch of him to soothe and warm and relax him. With their meandering path drawing ever closer to its innevitable destination, however, the firmness wasn't so much leaving his body as being redirected to a certain part of his anatomy.
"I presume you've got the same fantasy as most young men?" Aloe asked, stroking his hips in slow, lethargic movements. "Especially young men without previous experience. It's nothing to be ashamed of; everyone fantasises, and it's healthy to have certain feelings towards certain people. Most men aren't so lucky to have it fulfilled, though. That's what's different for you, Spike. You get to live your fantasy."
"M-My f-fantasy?" the boy stammered, swallowing nervously as the women's digits crept closer, tickling his pelvis and drawing dangerously close to actually touching his member. An errant twitch from him would make contact, and the thought alone was enough to make his toes curl. Aloe smiled at him, leaning in to whisper her clarification.
"You're first time being with not one, but two beautiful women."
It didn't matter if he hadn't had that fantasy for a long time, or if it had never been his strongest - hearing those words from her, while she was a hair's breadth from fulfilling his basest instincts, sent him on a path of need, the hunger for contact rolling through his body. His doubt fell away, replaced by a certainty stronger than anything he remembered feeling before. The barest graze of a knuckle from one of the twins pulled a shameful whine from him, his pride lurching from the contact, and he thrust his hips upwards instinctually, yearning for more of that simple, necessary touch. Aloe and Lotus took their time, encircling his rod with a finger and thumb to hold it upright as they rubbed the lotion across his pelvis, and giving him only the barest contact. He whimpered pathetically, denied the fast and urgent contact he wanted so much, as they focused on doing their job.
Delicate fingers closed around his base in a slow ensconcement, rising upward to capture more of his dick in a tender grip, and he sucked in a sharp breath which came out as staggered groan when she reached his tip and carried on. His shaft throbbed when her palm passed over his glans, a stream of pre dribbling onto the masseuse's thumb and rendering the lotion obsolete. Her motion was steady and unrushed, his watery produce smearing across his and her skin as she stroked in gradual rotations, twisting her hand back and forth so lethargically that he only picked up on it after she picked up the pace and he felt the glide. She hadn't been pumping before, not really; the movements were glacial, prepartory, and while he wasn't going to complain - he couldn't have complained if he'd wanted to - the additional speed was definitely needed. It was still foreplay, though, the sort of thing he heard from other guys when a woman was warming up some hung stud for the real action. His hips wiggled at the thought, and he felt another surge of lust at the idea that this time, he was the one being worshipped and praised.
A thumb circled his corona, winding back and forth in a precise swing and pulling an unwilling whine from his lips, which only rose in pitch as the thumb crested over his cockhead and teased his very tip. Pre leaked freely from his cumslit, drooling down the sides of his pole but never getting far before being swept up by the digits travelling along his length. It didn't take long before the wet, slick sounds of the hand massaging his meat became audible to everyone present, the sheer amount he was oozing and the accelerating rate of the handjob producing a deliciously lewd noise to accompany his panting and whimpering and the ocassional coos and titters of the women tending to his needs. The boy bit his lip and clenched his toes, struggling to keep control of himself as the pressure grew, his pride pulsing more and more urgently, the familiar heat rising right up to the boundary that would mean-
It stopped.
The throbbing in his groin slowed, transforming into a grumpy ache that bemoaned the finish he'd been anticipating. The hand had disappeared from around his shaft, which twitched needily, bobbing futilely and unsupported, and Spike whined petulantly, feeling the bliss receding. A string of pre drooped from his unsatisfied pole, snapping briefly as the amount of liquid became too heavy to stay in the air and landed in a puddle on his belly, before the process began again. Looking over to the twins, he pouted, his face flushed red. They smiled at him, the twinkle of mischief in their eyes overshadowed by their matronly sympathy.
"You cannot finish yet, Spike," Aloe told him, patiently intertwining her fingers with his as he went to reach for his shaft to finish off what they'd started. "Think of it like...like apple cider."
"Apple cider?" the boy asked, blindsided by the comparison. "The drink? Like the Apple family makes?"
"Exactly," Aloe confirmed. "You can't just rush making apple cider. The apples have to grow, they have to be ripe, they have to be pressed..."
"If you rush, you'll have very poor cider," Lotus concluded. "And you being satisfied is far more important than cider, wouldn't you agree?"
"I guess?" Spike relinquished. "But-" He sucked a breath through his teeth as Aloe grazed her fingertips across his length, reigniting the urgency burning in his loins. Her touch left a scalding mark on contact, an electric buzz that persisted after she removed her skin from his.
"Trust us, Spike," Aloe told him. "Delayed gratification is necessary for a man to be truly satisfied."
"It's always better when the pleasure is given time to build," Lotus emphasised. "Believe us - we've helped please many men." The double entendre was punctuated with a wink, and Spike swallowed.
"Are you ready to feel like a man, Spike?"
After their suggestive comments and worldly wisdom, all Spike could do was nod and give a quick affirmation, laced with false confidence and motivated by abjectneed. Still holding his hand, Aloe gingerly took hold of his stiffness and cautiously stroked away, building back up to her previous pace. The excitement hadn't quite gone away, and now that the source of his pleasure was back, he quickly found himself dribbling streams across the hand that was helping him, the blissful burning rearing back up to try and complete what he'd been denied already. It didn't take long before his manhood began to pulse again, the tide that had withdrawn surging back and threatening to spill over, but just like last time, the handjob stopped suddenly right before he hit his peak, and he was left to grit his teeth and bear the discomfort of not being allowed to finish. This time, the need was stronger, the growl of his instincts heavier and the feeling of what he was holding back somehow thicker and weightier.
Aloe swapped out for Lotus, and as soon as his engorged pride stopped its errant pulses, the pink-haired woman trailed her fingers up and down his rod, teasing and pleasing his erection with featherlight brushes before she wrapped her hand around his thin pride and pumped delicately. Her easy pace barely wavered, letting his excitement creep towards its limit again. Her almost lazy approach did nothing to reduce how much he enjoyed her touch, and soon she'd stopped. Aloe returned to his side, resuming her smooth jerking for a brief period before she was forced to halt, and swapping back out with her sister. Every time Spike neared his end, the intensity seemed to increase, the consequence of not quite finishing adding that bit more to the overall sensation he was made to endure, like powering through one more pushup before he gave in to his body's need to rest, and with every switch from one twin to the other, that bulging need grew stronger. His limbs trembled as his muscles pulled taut, his jaw and fists aching from how tightly he clenched them, suffering through the cruel, brutal ascent to the unobtainable peak that he was promised, only holding on because these two experts had assured him it was for his own good.
"P-please keep going!" Spike yelled out, finally breaking as the twins swapped positions yet again. He'd lost track of just how many times his climax had been stalled and he'd been made to wait and experience the climb again, only to be let down. His shaft was boiling to the touch, throbbing and pulsing angrily at the denial of what he was owed, and his urethra burned from the ever-increasing flow saturating the narrow passage. "I need to finish! Please!" He couldn't bear it any more, and even if he was overstepping his bounds - or whatever the etiquette was for this sort of massage - he couldn't sit still a second longer, his erotic frustration even evoking a few tears from him. He jerked his hips up, desperately and impotently thrusting into nothing as his body's instincts overtook his willpower. The silent seconds where he wasn't being pumped pressed against him oppressively, paradoxically leaving him feeling stranded on a plateau with no one around to help, something so akin to vertigo he shivered and gripped the sheet beneath him for safety.
The hand that grasped his tool didn't ease pleasantly into a smooth handjob; it grapped, and with a secure grip began a firm shake that left the boy gasping and panting furiously. The hand was a blur, the soft, slow shlick that had marked the activity up until that point replaced by a rapid and repetitive squish that barely made it over the vocalisations he made. The flurry of upwards and downwards jerks spiked the pleasure in his frazzled cock, stimulating every inch of his monument inside and out. Almost quicker than he could process it, he felt the molten joy rocketing from his aching nads and up to his peak-
Spike wailed as he finally erupted, his back arching from the iron grip of pleasure clasping his spine and his eyes dancing with colours and shapes he didn't have words for. His once tepid wave had ebbed and flowed into a mighty tsunami, and the crash as it finally broke washed away any concious thought he had in his head, flooding his senses with bright noise and sparking booms, recursing and rebounding until he couldn't figure out which way was up. The boiling, seething resevoir of cream that had brewed inside him burst from his tip in a ivory rope, its momentum carrying it a good distance to the ceiling before gravity got the better of it, and it rained down thickly on and around him. He barely noticed the thick spatter, his mind occupied by the battering of electrical rushes and surges; his body did all the work, running on autopilot as his muscles squeezed and contracted powerfully to send volley after volley of his batter spurting high into the air. Even as the shots began to lose their velocity, the masseuse didn't stop her furious movements, commanding his tool to push out more of the thick goo that she and her sister had so skillfully built up.
Spike wasn't lucid enough to figure out when his ejaculations stopped, but the throbbing contractions continued after the thick globules he oozed became thin streams, and those became nothing. The red-hot buzzing lasted even after that, his dickskin running with prickles while his vision righted itself and he could begin to make sense of the world again. He was coated in his own jizz, as was the absorbant mat around the massage bed, and Lotus was sealing the lid on a clear plastic container. Was that his-?
"Nurse Redheart asked for a sample," the pink-haired woman explained casually, smiling as she stepped away with the contents, leaving Aloe to step up beside him. "Miss Sparkle agreed, if she would pay part of the costs for your session for today." Spike didn't know what to think of that, and so continued to try and catch his breath shakily, which was cut short when he felt his nuts being groped gingerly by the delicate fingers he'd become accustomed to by now.
"W-what-?"
"Surely you didn't think that one round would be enough?" Aloe asked, tittering. "Such a young man with such a virile heritage needs a far more substantial service." Spike gulped, his eyes bulging as his member, as if with a mind of its own, began lurching back to turgidity. The blue-haired woman cupped his balls softly, rolling each one playfully between her digits and caressing his smooth, hairless sack with her fingertips. Her thumb brushed carefully around the two stones, as if admiring their weight and feel, and tracked upwards, tickling the spot where his scrotum met his cock.
Aloe's angelic embrace clasped his rejuvenated erection again, beginning a slow, steady pump as she fondled his jewels, working his maleness in complementary tugs and caresses. It wasn't the rough jacking that had sent him to the stratosphere, but it didn't need to be; the tenderness of her touch left him feeling weightless, the excitement and thrill gathering inside him once again, like it had before. Despite having already experienced the most intense orgasm of his entire life, he found himself purring and sinking into the massage bed, wanting nothing more than this bliss to continue expanding forever.
He didn't think much of the hands disappearing from his groin, guessing that Aloe was reapplying some lotion to her hands, a notion that the click of a bottle lid and the soft slurp of fluid being squeezed from a bottle reinforced. Barely five seconds after she'd let go, Aloe's hands resumed their work, her touch moving down to delicately run up the underside of his ballsack. It was only when her finger dipped lower, edging between his lower cheeks and grazing the tight wrinkle that lay between that he realised what was different. When he went to sit up, he found a hand pressed against his chest, insistently keeping him laying down.
"Just relax," Lotus urged him, taking one of his hands in hers and leaning over him so she took up almost all of his vision. "Trust us - we're experts, Spike. We know exactly how to relieve all your tension." She dropped a kiss on his cheek, her face hovering near his to keep him occupied while a fingertip rubbed the tight crinkle of skin between his buns, spreading the smoothness wetness that they'd rubbed all over the rest of his body to that small spot that he'd never even thought about a girl touching. There was no doubt as to what Aloe intended, and all Spike could do was clench his toes and relax as well as he could, waiting as the seconds ticked by, the pressure of that lone finger gradually growing stronger and more insistent.
Lotus shushed him as his gate finally gave in to the gentle demands and permitted Aloe's exploratory digit entry into his passage. Spike whimpered, sucking in a breath while the lone finger squeezed through the firm resistance of his ring and easing inward. Just the first half inch felt intense, her careful insertion brushing against his hitherto untouched walls and sending sharp pangs through his back and up his spine. Aloe moved at a glacial speed, advancing gradually and carefully, just enough to draw an unavoidable reaction from the young man and to get him used to having something inside him before she stopped, withdrew no more than a centimetre, and waited until he relaxed before advancing another inch at a snail's pace. All the while, Lotus comforted him, cooing tender words of encouragement and smooching his cheek and forehead, and holding his hand lovingly.
Spike's dick was twitching furiously by the time Aloe's knuckles bumped against his bum, signalling that she'd completely entombed her finger. The boy panted at the fullness of it, the inescapable presence in him feeling alien, but oddly satisfying. When she slid back towards his exit, he shivered, the lazy drag of her appendage leaving a tingling trail in its wake, content to take as long as she wanted to tease and explore his depths. She wasn't even halfway out before she pushed back into him, reversing her path with a calm ease and rotating her wrist to stroke at other sections of his walls. It was the pass over a seemingly innocuous part of his tract that sent lightning shooting down his spine and had him arching his back, a startled gasp exiting his mouth before he could silence himself.
"I think she found it," Lotus giggled, taking hold of Spike's other hand and holding both up to his shoulders. "Have you ever played with your prostate before, Spike?"
"N-no," he huffed, wiggling as Aloe gingerly sought out that spot once again.
"Ooh, what a treat," Lotus commented, her happiness at the news seeping into her compassionate tone. "You'll love it."
Aloe found the point before he had a chance to raise any counterpoint, leaving his hips lurching upward and his mouth too busy moaning out sounds of abject pleasure. Aloe moved with his reactions, her hand travelling to ensure she had constant access to his backside and that she could continue to jerk his shaft, leaving him no respite from her advances. A stream of pre seeped over the hand working his pole, dribbling down to his pelvis and coating both of them in a smear of excitement, squeezed from him by the coaxing pressure against his bulb. Lotus cooed at him as he panted and moaned, telling him how well he was doing, and stroking his ego and his cheek with the same doting grace as her sister stroked his cock and the reactive bulb inside him.
With so much attention being paid to him, the hot bubbling of an approaching orgasm being to rise inside him again, stirring from the white-hot touches agains his pleasure centre and drawing up towards his shaft, and like before, he was denied release at the critical moment. Spike groaned needily as the finger in his butt halted, the palm massaging his pole squeezing just enough to prevent him from finishing, and he lay there, teetering on the edge, until the sensation faded away. Aloe's motions began again shortly after, slowing to draw out the experience for him and leaving him huffing and whimpering as Lotus' melodic voice praised him for holding on. No matter how silent Spike tried to stay, Aloe could tell when he was getting close, and adjusted her movements accordingly, repeatedly allowing him to approach the peak, and stopping just before he could cross it. The familiar frustration of not being able to finish returned, along with the successive pent-up pressure of his need.
Aloe didn't announce when she intended to finish him, but Lotus seemed to know anyway, and moved so both she and Spike had a view of the furiously pumping hand working his thin shaft. Spike squealed as he came, firing another thick volley of jizz into the air, pushed from his prick by the curled finger demandingly stroking his love button. The mess spattered on him again, landing sloppily in staggered bursts that hit his skin and the towels around him. It was just as intense as before, and he mewled as his loads stopped and his mind reasserted its presence, the impact of the climax leaving him floating wieghtlessly.
He had a short time to recover before the teasing touches started again, Lotus reaching down to pump his cock while Aloe switched to massaging his stones, playfully caressing and cupping them while she brushed the organ inside him that had given him his last explosive release. He whimpered and purred, groaned and sighed, and made noises of satisfaction and contentment while the two beautiful women dedicated themselves to his pleasure. He stopped worrying about the buildup, and let himself enjoy the moment, the climax a distant thought compared to the delight they were inflicting on him.
When he came again, they asked him to turn over onto his front. The twins had to help him, but he managed it in the end, and the empty feeling in his rear was soon satiated with the searching finger he'd come to admire. To his surprise, a second joined the first, the pair doubling the demand on his prostate, and he purred and mewled into the sheet beneath him as his rear was worked for all it was worth. One of the twins - he couldn't see who - massaged his shoulders and back, drawing even more exaggerated groans from the boy, his shaft pulsing as it lay trapped between the massage bed and his own belly. When he came, it didn't take long for the sheet to become saturated, his nut pooling around his form.
Spike lost count of how many times he was pushed over the edge, but he was astutely aware when he was finished. His testicles felt shrivelled, even if a quick fondle confirmed they were just the same size as always, and he somehow knew he couldn't add a single drop to the obscene amount of cream decorating his torso and the surrounding area. His legs didn't work properly, and he had to be helped to the shower by the twins, who were still all smiles and motherly warmth as they walked, as if this hadn't been any more than a regular spa visit. When they were confident that he could stand unassisted, they left him to his own devices, his clothes neatly folded and untouched on a bench.
The shower was much needed after the ordeal he'd gone through; the gunk of his enjoyment was dried on his skin, and as much as he didn't care at the time, now he was finished, he wanted it off, nevermind the sweat he'd built up from what had to have been the most intense workout he'd ever done. When at long last he turned the shower off, towelled himself down, and dressed again, he felt boneless.
The twins had finished cleaning up by the time he made his way back to the massage room, the soiled towels and sheets and everything else they'd used taken away to be cleaned and locked out of sight. The bed looked spotless, without any indication of what had gone on on it no longer than half an hour previously, apparently already sprayed and cleaned for the next customer to use. The thought of that made him blush.
"Still shy?" Lotus asked, bringing a fresh pile of towels into the room. "I hope we've shown you that you never need to be shy around us. We're professionals, Mr Spike."
"Th-thanks," he murmured, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. "But you can just call me Spike. After...that...being formal just feels weird."
"As you wish, Spike," she answered, smiling at him pleasantly. "Just remember that you're always welcome back here. In fact, we encourage you to return as soon as you feel your needs taking over again. It's for the benefit of the town, after all." The boy couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the slightest twinkle of mischief in the woman's eyes as she returned to her chores.
Twilight was waiting for him when he got home, looking up from her book as he opened the door and stepped inside. She smiled, but there was an underlying layer of concerned caution of her face.
"How did it go?" she asked, placing the book down on the table next to herself and standing up to greet him. "Do you feel better?"
"Much," the boy replied with a grin, humming a happy tune to himself. "I haven't felt this good in...well, ever! It's great!"
"I'm glad," Twilight said with a relieved sigh. "If you want to take some time to relax, I think you've earned it."
"Actually, I'd rather get to doing some chores," he told her. "Is there anything you need doing? Anything I can help with?"
"I'm sure I can find something," Twilight answered, surprised at his sudden bout of motivation. "Why?"
"Pocket money," Spike told her, a grin spreading wider across his face. "I need to pay for the next spa session."
"I'm sure the girls would be willing to let you help them out if you told them you needed help paying for...this." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "When is the next session?"
"Friday evening."
"Five days?"
"It was the earliest available spot they had," he told her. "I asked for Tuesday, but, well, it's not really convenient to have me around when there are other customers. I'm pretty loud. And speaking of being loud, have you heard of a prostate before? It's-"
Spike's explanation became white noise to the woman at that point, and she found herself just nodding as the boy explained to her just how regularly he might need these spa sessions. The thought of what that meant left her needing a hot drink, and maybe a shower, so she made her excuses and headed to the kitchen to brew herself some cocoa. Unfortunately, Spike was too caught up to take the hint, and she spent the entire brewing process being explained the process of what had happened. She definitely needed the shower now.
"Maybe you should go," Spike suggested, beaming at her as she finished off brewing the drink. "You should find out what it feels like to get a prostate massage."
Twilight spat out the mouthful of cocoa and launched into a coughing fit, much to the boy's alarm. It took her nearly half a minute to gather herself enough to talk.
"We're having a talk," she wheezed, pointing to the main room. "Biology lesson."
"Why?" he asked, concern spreading over his countenance as she grabbed ahold of his arm and marched him forward.
"Because if I have to learn information I never wanted to hear, you're going to learn something useful."
And learn Spike did, to his embarrassment.
