Good Healer

Over the next few days, Kray became a secret practitioner of pleasure healing.

Word, as it always did, began to spread in Luma town. But this time, the whispers were different, laced with curiosity rather than outright mockery. Old Man Tiber, witnessing Henrietta's surprisingly swift recovery, had grudgingly admitted to others that "Dray's got a strange touch, that's for sure. Like he's… soothing people from the inside out."

Others witnessing Kray tending to villagers with an unusual tenderness, started to murmur amongst themselves. "Did you hear about Dray and Henrietta?" "They say he's doing some kind of… massage healing now." "Massage healing? Sounds like nonsense." "But they say it's working…"

The skepticism remained, of course. "Quack healer, always will be," some still scoffed. But a seed of cautious curiosity had been planted, especially amongst those desperate for relief from their own aches and pains, those who had exhausted the limited remedies offered by Elder Maeva, the town's traditional herbalist.

And then, Old Mrs. Gable came hobbling up to their farm, leaning heavily on her gnarled walking stick. Mrs. Gable was a fixture of Luma town, known for her sharp tongue and even sharper wit, but also for her debilitating arthritis, which had twisted her joints and confined her to a slow, painful shuffle.

"Young Dray," she croaked, her voice raspy with age and pain, "I hear tell you've taken to… massaging folks now. Like some fancy city healer." Her eyes, though faded with age, were sharp and assessing.

Kray's heart jumped into his throat. His first human client. And it was Old Mrs. Gable, the most formidable gossip in Luma town.

He swallowed nervously, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. "Well, Mrs. Gable, it's… a new healing method I'm trying. It's called… pleasure massage." He cringed inwardly at the words, feeling his cheeks flush.

Mrs. Gable's eyebrows shot up, her lips pursing into a thin line. "Pleasure massage, you say? Sounds a bit… indecent for a healer, doesn't it?" Her gaze narrowed, scrutinizing him, making him feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

"No, no, it's not like that," Kray stammered, desperately trying to clarify without sounding even more ridiculous. "It's… therapeutic pleasure. It's supposed to… relax the muscles, ease the pain. It… it worked on my mother's headache, and Alice's shoulder, and… and Henrietta's wing." He finished in a rush, hoping she wouldn't notice his increasingly flustered state.

Mrs. Gable considered this, tapping her walking stick thoughtfully on the dusty ground. Her usual sharp expression softened slightly, replaced by a weary resignation. "Truth be told, lad, I'm in so much pain these days, I'd try anything. Even… indecent pleasure massage, if it offered a lick of relief. My joints are screaming day and night." She gestured to her twisted, swollen knuckles, her voice laced with genuine suffering.

Kray's nervousness warred with a surge of empathy. This was it. His chance to truly help someone in need, to prove his worth, to silence the inner voice of "Dray the Quack" once and for all.

"Come with me, Mrs. Gable," he said, his voice gaining a newfound confidence, surprising even himself. "Let's see if this 'pleasure massage' can do something for that arthritis of yours."

He led her into the farmhouse, setting up a makeshift massage area in a quiet corner of the kitchen, draping a clean linen cloth over a sturdy stool. Mrs. Gable settled onto it with a groan, her joints creaking like rusty hinges.

Kray hesitated for a moment, his earlier confidence faltering. This was it. His first paying client. And it was Old Mrs. Gable. And he was about to administer… pleasure massage. The sheer awkwardness of it threatened to overwhelm him.

But then, he looked at Mrs. Gable's face, etched with pain and hope, and his resolve hardened. He had made an oath. He was a Pervert Healer now. It was time to embrace it, awkwardness and all.

"Alright, Mrs. Gable," he said, his voice steadier now, though still tinged with nervousness. "Just… try to relax. And… let me know if anything feels… uncomfortable." He carefully avoided saying the word "pleasurable," not yet daring to broach that territory with his first official client.

He focused on his [Pleasure] skill, feeling the familiar tingling warmth in his fingertips. He placed his hands gently on Mrs. Gable's gnarled knuckles, starting with tentative strokes. Her joints were stiff and cold, the skin thin and papery.

He began to massage, slowly, deliberately, channeling the soothing energy, focusing on easing the inflammation, relieving the pain. He worked his way up her arms, kneading the tense muscles, moving towards her shoulders, feeling the knots and stiffness accumulated over years of pain.

And then, Mrs. Gable reacted. Not with giggles or blushes, like Alice, or soft moans like Grace. But with a deep, shuddering sigh, a sound of profound relief.

"Oh, my," she breathed, her voice still raspy but laced with a newfound lightness. "That… that's… something else, young Dray." Her body visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping, her grip loosening on her walking stick.

Kray continued to massage, his nervousness slowly melting away, replaced by a laser focus on his skill, on her pain, on the strange, potent energy flowing through him. He worked on her arms, her shoulders, her neck, wherever he sensed tension and stiffness.

And Mrs. Gable… she responded. With sighs, with soft moans, with murmured exclamations of relief. "Oh, that's… lovely, dearie." "Feels like… melting butter in my joints." "Mercy me, I haven't felt this… relaxed in years."

Kray's internal temperature was rising steadily. Mrs. Gable's unexpected vocalizations, though clearly born of relief, were undeniably… suggestive. His pervert brain was buzzing, a strange mix of nervousness and illicit excitement coursing through him. He was massaging Old Mrs. Gable, a woman old enough to be his grandmother, and she was moaning in pleasure. It was absurd, almost comical, and yet… undeniably, powerfully, arousing.

He fought to maintain his composure, to keep his hands steady, to focus on the healing, not on the… other aspects of the situation. But it was a battle. A battle against his own burgeoning perversion, against the inherent awkwardness of the situation, and against the growing realization of just how potent and… pleasurable his healing skill truly was.

[Gained : +2 Love Point.]

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he finished the massage, gently withdrawing his hands. Mrs. Gable remained slumped on the stool, her breathing slow and even, her face serene, almost youthful in its newfound relaxation.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking in the soft kitchen light, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Well, Dray," she said, her voice stronger now, clearer, "I'll be hornswoggled. That… pleasure massage of yours… it actually worked. My joints feel… looser, lighter. And the pain… it's… almost gone." She flexed her fingers, her previously gnarled knuckles moving with surprising fluidity.

She looked at him, her sharp eyes softened with gratitude, and a hint of something else, something almost… amused. "And you know what, young Dray? It wasn't just about the pain. It felt… rather pleasant too. Downright enjoyable, in fact." She chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the kitchen. "Pleasure massage indeed. Who would have thought?"

Kray, still reeling from the awkward intensity of the session, could only manage a weak, flustered smile. "I'm… glad it helped, Mrs. Gable."

"Helped? Lad, you've given me a new lease on life, you have!" she declared, pushing herself up from the stool with surprising ease. "I'll be telling everyone in town about your… unique healing method. Pleasure massage, eh? Luma town's never seen anything like it." She winked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "And mark my words, Dray. Word's going to spread. You'll be swamped with clients wanting a taste of your… pleasure."

As Mrs. Gable hobbled out of the farmhouse, leaving behind a generous payment and a lingering scent of lavender and something else, something faintly… suggestive, Kray stood alone in the kitchen, his heart pounding in his chest.

It had worked. His first paying client. His first successful Pleasure massage. He was a healer. A Pervert Healer. And the world, it seemed, was finally starting to take notice. But the journey, he knew, was only just beginning. And it was going to be a lot more… complicated, and a lot more perverted… than he could ever have anticipated. And somehow, amidst the nervousness and the awkwardness, a thrill of excitement, a dangerous spark of anticipation, flickered within him. He was ready. Or at least, he hoped he was.

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Name : Kray(18)

Class : Healer

Level : 1 (0/10)

LP (Love Points) : 5

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Skills : [Pleasure : Lvl 1]