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This story was written for Serling. It contains bondage, massage related TF and toony goo-play. :3

A New Surprise

I love it when a new client appears at my door. Of course, it's rare that I'm their first stop. Normally they've already experimented with some of the more standard practices that our parlour offers. And if they like what they experience from the more entry level massages... well, it's almost inevitable that eventually they'll come clamouring for an appointment on my table.

But today... oh my, today's going to be special. For this isn't just any old client. This guy, he's been coming here for years. In fact, I'm kind of shocked that I haven't already worked with him before, given how adventurous he tends to be.

"Serling. Welcome. Please, come right in, get yourself comfortable."

I greet him with a smile and a handshake, and he blushes. Of course he does. It's funny. I've always noticed that about other coyotes. They always seem embarrassed when they realise I'm going to be working with them. I should ask my colleagues if it's the same with them. If there's something about being tended to in such an intimate way as this by a member of your own species which is somehow more... personal? Regardless, he's cute as a button when he gets all red in the face beneath his fur, and cuter still as I watch him undress.

Soon he's naked, lying down on the table with a towel over his cute rump and tail. Such a shame to hide it, but whatever makes him most comfortable. Soon, it won't matter. I approach him, and with my fingers already slick with a little oil, I begin to gently rub his shoulders as I confirm what he's here to receive.

"So, am I right in thinking you'd like to try our our famous seaweed wrap treatment?"

He nods, but doesn't look back over his shoulder. That's good. I think clients always get a little nervous when they see just how much I start to grin when they give me that final round of permission.

"Great. You just lie there and relax... I'll be right back."

I dart back across the room. I know it so well, it's like a second home to me. My fingers, still slick with massage oil, slide over the handle of my favourite cupboard. I open it up and warm, heavily scented vapour pours out, the interior hot and damp like a rainforest. Upon a central shelf there lies a stack of what an untrained eye might at first think to be some sort of towels. The truth however is far more exciting. I pull out the stack of seaweed, still moist and clean thanks to the intense humidity, and carry it carefully over to the massage table once more. And when I say carefully, I mean carefully. After all, the seaweed is slick with the same vapour that was filling the chest. Not water, but aerosolised oil. The same oil that we use here to make our massages so... transformative in their relaxation.

Carefully, gently, I begin to wrap up Serling's right leg. He gasps, surprised at how warm and soft the seaweed is no doubt, and then again, a little shocked at how tightly I wrap his leg up as I begin to gently feed the seaweed over and under it, over and under, time and time again. He doesn't struggle though. He just lets it happen. Once one leg is wrapped up all the way to the thigh, I do the other. I feel his toes flexing through the seaweed, and I can hear him breathing more heavily as he feels the pressure, the heat, drawing the imperfections out from fur and skin alike within. It makes me want to giggle, knowing what will follow soon enough. Somehow though I keep hold of myself and remain professional. After all, this guy is practically a VIP in our establishment. He deserves my full focus, no matter how entertaining I find his complete willingness to go along with what he probably thinks is tame compared to his normal massage schedule.

He does start to blush of course, to whimper and gasp a little, when I begin to wrap up his torso. When I peel away his towel, and suddenly his cute rump is staring me right in the face. Gosh, it'd be fun to give it a squeeze. A pinch. To listen to him yelp, and shudder with ever growing embarrassment and excitement. But still I resist the temptation, growing greater by the second. I wrap up his body as innocently as I can, not saying a word about whatever bulges I may feel pressing up against the tightly wrapped seaweed as I move up to his belly, then his chest. By the time I begin wrapping his arms, I think he's starting to feel a little of that same sensation that creeps over most people during their first time. I can feel him trembling slightly. He's not scared exactly. It's hard to be truly afraid in a massage parlour you came to of your own volition, with soft music playing and warm, tingling oils soaking into your fur and flesh. But... with his fingers now bound, hands locked inside mittens of seaweed, there is a certain lack of control that can be a little unsettling.

Or deeply exciting, depending on from whose point of view you are seeing things, of course.

Before too long, he's bound from the neck down. His once gorgeously grey furred coat now lies hidden beneath a wrap of dark greenish, ever so slightly red tinged seaweed, and with all his fur pinned down to his body, it's never been more clear what a lean and adorable figure he has. I could spend hours just running my hands over his wrapped up body, but I settle for a minute or so, under the guise of checking to ensure that all the spots where my various wrappings overlap and pulled nice and tight. And now... now the real fun can begin.

I return to his feet, grasp another length of seaweed, and begin to wrap all over again. Only this time, I don't do each leg separately. I pull his feet tightly together, and wrap them up in one. Immediately I hear Serling gasp in shock, in nervous surprise. But sure enough, he's too embarrassed to say that he didn't know I was going to continue binding him up. Too nervous and awkward to confess that he didn't realise the wrap was going to be quite so intensive. Silly thing. If he didn't think it was going to get intense, why did it take him this long to summon up the courage to visit? We have instincts for a reason. Perhaps Serling should learn to trust in his a little more.

Binding his legs is easy, but when I get to his torso and begin to try and wrap a particularly thick length of seaweed around both his torso and arms, ready to pin them to his side, he makes a big show of stretching out his arms and giving a long, fake yawn of relaxation to prevent me from doing so. One of his arms lies casually down off the side of the massage table, and I have no doubt whatsoever that he wants me to just leave it there, to not disturb his choice of position, as is the case when carrying out so many of our more traditional massage techniques.

Thankfully, he's very wrong, and soon he's whining audibly as I tie him up more and more. His arms are bound. His whole body is immobile from the neck down, so as I roll him over and look down into his flushed face with a gleeful grin, he can't look away. Can't do anything but whimper, blush, and beg.

"P-please... a-are you sure this is how the wrap is supposed to go? I don't feel... r-relaxed right now, y'know?"

I smile. If I could, if it wouldn't totally go against the code of conduct, I'd lean down and smooch him right on his adorable nose. As is it, I gently beep it with one fingertip. His eyes cross as he tries to follow the trajectory of my incoming digit, and I have to turn away, squealing with laughter at how adorable he is.

By the time I turn back, I have one last length of seaweed in my hand. I place it around his neck, and begin to wind it upward. His eyes bulge. He yelps. But quickly, expertly, I wrap the seaweed around the top and bottom of his jaw, and he's silent again. Mumbling. Whimpering. But not in any way that will disturb the relative calm of the room nor the relaxing energies within it. I bind his face, his head, from bottom to top, and before too long... there. There's nothing left now. Not a scrap of fur or flesh visible within the seaweed bound form wiggling upon my table.

I run my hands over him. Not as a massage. Not for any professional reason. Totally selfish. Totally without cause or provocation. I feel him shiver and squirm with embarrassment, and feel him flex, strain as I grope and fondle particular points of interest that seem to press out against the seaweed coating his body. From his head to his toes I stroke, touch and tease practically every inch of his body, and the more I do so, the less he struggles. I hear his whimpers softening, growing increasingly distant and in a strange way, damp, like they're coming from underwater. I know why, of course, but it doesn't detract from how delighted the sound makes me.

I move to the far side of the room, and grab one of the items that so many of the massage rooms in our business are required to possess. A bucket.

I carry it back to the table and place it at the lower end, by the seaweed clad coyote's now unmoving toes. It's a relatively simple matter to duck down under the table itself at that point, and adjust it so that there's an ever so slight downward tilt. Not enough to risk Serling sliding off by any means, but enough to give liquid a direction in which to flow.

Again I stroke the seaweed covered form of the coyote. I admire how well it's kept its shape, looking just like an outline of the bound up male. A shudder of excitement runs down my spine. It's not much exaggeration to say that I live for this moment. For the big reveal.

Returning to stand by Serling's feet, I tease a single finger beneath two of the layers of seaweed. They're firm now. Like a paper mache cast. But I know just the angle at which to enter, to tease them apart delicately, where others would have to use brute force.

I peel back a little of the seaweed, and... oh god, there it is.

Liquid. Thick, gooey pinkish liquid begins to trickle out, and drum against the base of the metal bucket as it lands within. It bubbles and wiggles like jelly at the base of the bucket, but makes no other movement. How could it, in its current, liquified state?

This is my miracle. My performance. What I can do that no other spa technician in the company can achieve, and each time I see it, I shake with pride, and beam with joy.

I don't need to squeeze and massage with brute force to reduce a body to its most relaxed, uninhibited state with our patented oils. All I need to do is wrap a person up in seaweed, coated in that magical oil, and let their own shivering, squirming, and their body's own heat do the work for me. I hear it's the most gentle, soothing, and rapid liquification any of my clients have ever known. And while the first time might scare them a little at first... they always come back for more.

I watch as Serling drains out into the bucket, leaving an empty cast of his body behind, and I kneel down beside his new location.

Playfully, teasingly, I dip a single finger into the bucket, and swirl it around. I know it's wrong, I know it's against the rules, but I feel him wriggle and shudder in the only manner his gooey, liquid form can as I simultaneously touch every last part of him.

"I'll book you in for another appointment next week. How does that sound?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. But I know what he's thinking in that moment, for sure.

He'd have to be insane to come back for another session with me. But he'll be there, and he'll hope I'll find a new, even more delightful way to surprise him.

And trust me... I will.

By Jeeves

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