CHAPTER 108: ROUND TWO OF MASSAGING A MUSCLE MOMMY!

Rae rubbed his palms together, spreading the oil, heat building under his skin.

He pressed his hands down onto her back.

’Alright, focus. Seven moans. Just seven. Don’t overdo it. Yet.’

Lyra bit her lip. His touch was too smooth, too practiced.

Her muscles twitched under his palms like they were betraying her one by one.

’It’s just massage. Just recovery. Breathe, dammit!’

He dragged his hands down her back, thumbs tracing the line of her spine. She shuddered.

’One. That counted. That’s one.’

System didn’t register it.

’No, no, that was just a breath!’

His fingers slid over the base of her towel, lingering just where fabric met skin.

’Relax. Don’t start poking the bear yet.’

She buried her face deeper into the pillow.

’Keep calm. Ignore it. Ignore him. You’re not moaning again. Not this time.’

He worked his way up, kneading her shoulders, rolling his thumbs into the knots like he was coaxing secrets out of her body.

’This shouldn’t feel this good. It’s illegal for this to feel this good.’

She let out a small sound—half breath, half whimper.

’Man, why didn’t it register.’

He dipped lower again, hands trailing down with just enough pressure to make her back arch slightly.

She hated that she was already sweating.

’Oh, come on, am I anticipating this? No way!’

Rae leaned in closer, his hands now gliding along the curve of her waist. Then, smoothly, casually, they spread outward.

His fingers brushed over her sides, under her armpit...

She froze.

And then—there they were.

His palms slid up and cupped the soft swell of her breasts from the sides, fingertips grazing the underside.

She wasn’t just aware.

She was completely awake now.

Rae’s hands stayed there. Warm. Heavy.

Fingers lightly curved around the soft weight of her breasts.

No squeeze. No pressure. Just contact. Intentional... yet somehow innocent.

"Madame’s chesd bery squishy," he murmured, voice innocent, curious. "Is dhis also bart of mushle? Rae need do bress here doo?"

Lyra’s eyes flew open. Her mouth parted, but no words came out—only a soft, strangled sound. Her brain had flipped over and landed in a ditch.

’He’s touching them. He’s literally touching them.’

Her eyes widened against the pillow. Her breath caught. Her toes curled.

’He did NOT just ask that like it’s some anatomical mystery!’

"I-it’s not—! You shouldn’t—!" she stammered, voice muffled, brain spiraling.

Rae tilted his head.

"But Rae still feel tightness here. Madame holding stress in chest area? Rae can help. Rae want to help."

He gave a small experimental wiggle with his thumbs, brushing the underside again.

Lyra sucked in a breath so fast she nearly choked.

’No. No. Don’t moan. You swore you wouldn’t moan!’

"R-Rae, that’s not... t-that’s not... massage..."

He blinked.

"Not massage? But Rae using oil. Rae using hands. Rae rubbing. That is massage, yes?"

She let out a sound—somewhere between a gasp and a strangled groan.

His thumbs drew slow circles, and her entire body was now vibrating like a plucked harp string.

"Should Rae keep massaging this part? It very warm. Like steamed bun."

Lyra buried her face into the pillow again and screamed internally.

’This bastard’s doing it on purpose. No way he’s this clueless. No way.’

Rae leaned a little closer, hands still in place.

"Maybe Rae learn secret technique here. Maybe this where stress hides."

He gently pressed inward.

"N-no...wait..."

Lyra shook her head.

He leaned closer, still pretending full confusion, eyes wide like a kid discovering pillows for the first time.

"Should Rae stop? Or... press more? Maybe pressure is not enough here... Rae can massage very bell."

He was still playing dumb. And doing it way too well.

"J-just...."

Lyra was at a lose for words. What the hell was she supposed to say here? Of course, the obvious answer is no, but, well...

’I-I-I can fee the power awakening deep inside me. M-maybe this is the only way.’

Please, trust her on this one okay. Its not like she was being just horny and all.

"D-do it gently, okay."

She just let it go. She still has power over her feelings and...and its just innocent touches. That’s all.

’He’s the masseur, he knows better on this matter.’

"Ogay!"

His fingers moved again, slow and deliberate.

Just a little more pressure. Just a little more curiosity.

Palms sliding inward, cupping her breasts from below now, thumbs brushing along the edge like he was testing the softness for scientific reasons.

Lyra bit into the pillow.

A sound escaped her throat.

"Mmh—!"

She tried to smother it, but it was too late.

[1/7]

The system message flashed in Rae’s mind like a green light at a pervert’s crossing.

He grinned.

’One down. Six to go.’

Rae adjusted his grip, hands now fully committed to the "research."

He started kneading her slowly, thumbs rolling in circles, his palms squeezing in rhythm like he was shaping dough made of sin.

"Ah... M-Mmn...!"

Her breath hitched again. She was slipping. Fast. Her thighs squeezed together on instinct, but it only made everything worse.

’Stop moaning. Stop reacting. You’re not a toy. You’re a hero!’

But Rae leaned closer, whispering with wide-eyed innocence.

"Madame making cute sounds again. Maybe this spot important. Maybe Rae found the stress source."

He pressed again. Firmer. Thumbs sweeping up, grazing her nipples now through her rising breath.

She couldn’t hold it.

"Ah—! Mmmn... Rae...!"

[2/7]

[3/7]

[4/7]

They came back to back like a combo hit. Her voice, muffled and trembling, filled the tent with each moan.

Rae didn’t stop. His hands moved with practiced rhythm now, squeezing, caressing, teasing.

"R-Rae... d-don’t... I can’t—ah!"

[5/7]

[6/7]

She was squirming beneath him now, clutching at the towel like it could save her from herself.

Her body arched into his hands before she could stop it.

And then—

"Ahh~!"

One final cry. Sharp. Raw.

[[7/7] Quest Complete!]

[Skill Unlocked: Superior Hands of Eros]

[+40% Resistance to Life Drain]

Rae let go like he was clocking out of a job well done.

He sat back, exhaled, wiped imaginary sweat off his brow, then reached for a health potion from his stash.

Without a word, he uncorked it and chugged it like a man who just ran a marathon through temptation.

"Ahhh... Rae worked very hard."

He licked a drop from the corner of his mouth.

"Madame very noisy today. Rae proud."

She just murmured something and pushed her head deep in the mattress.

I mean, when someone says you are too loud in the bed, that’s a shameful thing, right?

Rae leaned back with a satisfied sigh, feeling the warmth of the potion swirl through his veins. Muscles no longer aching. Life bar steady.

’Not bad. Not bad at all.’

Then the system pinged in again.

[Skill Unlocked: Superior Hands of Eros]

He opened the description with a flick of thought.

[Superior Hands of Eros (Passive): Your touch naturally stimulates areas of arousal when used during massages. Enhanced blood flow, heightened nerve sensitivity, and an automatic +25% chance to induce moaning upon contact. Warning: May cause victims to experience overwhelming pleasure. Use responsibly. Or don’t.]

Rae blinked.

He blinked again. Then grinned.

’So Rae’s hands now super hands... Lusty hands...’

He wiggled his fingers like they were magic wands. Technically, they were now. Massage wands of doom.

But before he could enjoy the moment too long, another screen popped up.

[Special Quest Unlocked!]

[Massage of Death! - Level 3]

[Objective: Massage her upper body and make her moan nine times.]

[Reward: +60% Resistance to Life Drain]

His eyebrows shot up.

’They’re just handing these out now. Nine moans? Upper body only? Oh, this is practically charity work.’

He looked down at Lyra, who was still lying there, chest heaving softly, red-faced and trembling.

"Madame... need to roll over now. Rae has to massage front side. For... balance."

She stiffened like a deer hearing a twig snap.

"W-why the front?"

She mumbled into the pillow.

"Rae needs symmetry. Can’t have tension only on back, right?"

She groaned softly, then slowly turned over, face burning.

As soon as she did, she yanked the towel down to cover her hips, her bare chest now completely exposed—smooth, flawless, and those breasts...

Firm. Pliable. Perky like they were sculpted for worship. The kind of curves bards wrote metaphors about.

Rae swallowed once.

’Praise be to whatever god made this.’

She bit her lip and turned her head away, face hot enough to melt steel.

Her hand flew up, covering her eyes like that would shield her from shame.

’Dammit... dammit... he’s staring... of course he’s staring...’

’Don’t moan this time. Hold it in. Be strong. You survived battlefield trauma.’

’This is just a massage. A naked... humiliating... dangerously arousing massage.’

Rae tilted his head.

’Madame look like cooked tomato now. Very soft. Very edible. Must not bite. Massage only.’

He cracked his knuckles and leaned in.

"Rae will begin now."

And he reached for the oil again.

’Time for some fun.’

Rae tilted the oil bottle and let the golden liquid drizzle down, slow as honey, straight onto her breasts.

Lyra gasped.

Her whole body trembled like someone just ran a feather dipped in sin down her spine.

’Why there?! Why right there?!’

The oil pooled in the valley of her cleavage before trickling over the soft slopes, warm and slick. Her hands twitched, but she didn’t stop him.