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This vignette was written for Serling as part of his top tier Patreon reward for the month of August 2018. It contains massage related TF/goo-play and relaxing cuteness.

All About the Smile

Ever since his clay blend massage with Theresa, one lingering desire had remained clear in Serling's mind. Clear as day he remembered the ferret's hands upon his cheeks. The soothing touch as she focused on his face with delicate touches that eased the tensions of those muscles in a way that weren't so commonly focused on during his normal sessions. It had been enjoyable. Relaxing in a totally different way from a full body massage. And thus, on this particular day Serling had foregone his chance for a normal full massage, and instead had asked for one that focused purely and simply upon his body from the neck upward.

"Mmmh... t-thank you for this..."

He sighed happily, beaming as he felt Dave's thumbs working the massage oil, the more traditional blend this time around, into his cheeks. Standing over his head, at the top of the table rather than at its side where he would normally have better access to the coyote's whole body, the stallion chuckled.

"It's no bother. It's been a while, but I was trained in facial massage just like everyone else here. Honestly it's nice to be able to do different things once in a while, and you're always good for giving me that chance."

Little by little, slowly and tenderly, Dave applied the oil across Serling's face with only the tips of his fingers and thumbs. Even now, prior to the full softening effect of the massage oil taking hold, his touch was wonderful. His thumbs applied just enough pressure to sooth and relax the muscles of Serling's face, and as the coyote smiled pleasantly at the sensation he couldn't believe how much less physically, mechanically effortful it felt to do so, though the effort of smiling was never something that had really crossed his mind at all before now. He gasped as he felt the stallion's digits drift up to his temples, and once again was amazed at how a little massage in the right spots relieved aches he had no idea were even present, chasing away what might well have been the beginnings of a headache and leaving his mind feeling more free and clear than it had all day. The bridge of his snout, the base of his chin, there wasn't a single spot which avoided Dave's touch as he worked the massage oil into Serling's features alongside an initial barrage of oh so pleasant massage. But as was so often the case with this Spa, it was only when the oil began to work its magic upon Serling's form that the true skill and comfort of Dave's touch came to be known.

The first time Dave's fingers began to sink through the flesh of his face and into the muscle as his features began to soften under the massage oil's innate properties, Serling let slip an almost inappropriately blissful whimper. Part of it was simply the awareness, the knowledge that what he had been waiting for was happening, but beyond that the sensations of the experience itself really were wonderful to behold.

Just as Serling had felt so many times before in his shoulders, upon his back and all over his lower body in general, as his muscles turned to softened, dough-like goo under the thrall of the magical massage oil every bit of tension within them was squeezed and massaged away by the pressure of his massage therapist's fingers. As those digits teased the cells of his body apart and the magical oil retained their purpose and knowledge of their correct location while allowing them to drift and mingle freely with every other similarly affected cell in Serling's body, they were incapable of holding on to tension. The muscles of which they were a part ceased to function and ceased to be entirely, and beyond the immediate pleasure of their stress free state Serling revelled in the knowledge that even when they re-formed again, they would do so without the slightest bit of tension within them, remaining that way until such a time as use and anxiety began to build up those old tensions once again.

The coyote's toes curled as he felt his face being slowly, carefully softened and manipulated by Dave's fingers. He panted and murmured happily while he was still able to do so, feeling his muzzle itself beginning to soften and liquefy as Dave gently massaged its sides, slipping his fingers between Serling's wiry whiskers and caressing back and forth until the tip of Serling's maw began to droop, before finally quivering and folding in on itself into a softened pile of quivering, now silent flesh. One by one the features of the coyote's face were loosened and relaxed to the point of nothingness, massaged ever so pleasantly out of existence. His ears were teased and caressed until they were sealed over by touch after gentle touch, Serling never having realised that they could be so sensitive or that so much stress could be held within their cartilage. His eyes closed as Dave's fingers massaged around and within the flesh surrounding them, his bones, his very skull softening every bit as much as the flesh and muscle over it. The stallion's digits worked their magic and soon he couldn't open his eyes again quite simply because he had no eyelids, no eye sockets, no eyes with which to open and strain and stare and make any effort to see through.

Of course, Serling could still feel. He could still hear. In a sense he could still see too, even with his eyes dispersed throughout his softened, now all but featureless face. He was aware of Dave moving over him. Not just of the sensation of the stallion's hands upon his face, but also the movement of those hands when they weren't in direct contact with him. Even now his senses had not abandoned him, and thus right to the facial massage's conclusion he was able to feel every last bit of what Dave did for him. He would have cried out, would have gasped in wonder and delight if he'd had a mouth. His eyes would have bulged, his ears would have pricked up, his whole face would have lit up with joy when the stallion's hands pressed themselves deeper than before. Far deeper, until at last as he felt Dave's right hand enter one side of his face and the stallion's other hand enter the opposite side, Serling was able to feel the massage therapist's digits meet in the middle as they delved, squished, and began to explore, to tease, to play inside his softened, already invulnerable mind.

Never before had Serling felt the flattening and squeezing and kneading of his brain take so long. Never before had such direct and complete attention been paid to that part of his body in a massage such as this. He would have been laughing, squealing with wonder and rapture if he had been able. The coyote would have been out of his mind quite unironically, and he could feel his body reacting appropriately, thrashing, bucking, writhing upon the table in glee as Dave began to squish his head between two flattened palms. His head, his face, his brain all squished out between and around the stallion's digits, and as the equine massage therapist pressed and worked it all back together again just moments later in a now quivering, amorphous doughy ball resting upon the coyote's neck, even Serling's mind seemed to have been drained and squeezed free of its stresses and worries.

His head was clear. He could think of things, recall memories with far greater clarity than before. He could answer questions that had been bugging him with long forgotten answers for weeks, remember names that had been floating in the periphery of his consciousness with faces attached for longer than he could previously have remembered, though now he of course recalled precisely when and why that curiosity had been spawned. And above all else, he could remind himself with crystal focus and awareness just how lucky he was to be in this position. Just how wonderful it was to be here, with Dave looking out for him and tending to him, experiencing this amazing feeling.

And though in that moment Serling couldn't possibly have known it, Dave could see that joy, that contentment and gratitude written across the blank, quivering, formless surface of the coyote's face. It seemed impossible, it seemed utterly against everything that he had just done to the canine male to flatten and squish and render his face utterly peaceful, utterly featureless. But somehow, even as he stared down closer and more curiously at the coyote, Dave was certain of what he was seeing.

Somehow, though there were no eyes, though there was no muzzle visibly present upon that quivering ball of softened flesh which was currently all that could serve as Serling's head, the coyote was still smiling. A warmth, a joy, a pure and happy contentment rose from his features however invisibly, and as finally Dave moved on and began to apply some massage oil to Serling's neck for the next stage of today's treatment, he began to measure his actions against that perceived, albeit visibly non-existent smile.

After all, if he could continue to make Serling so happy, so satisfied that he was able to smile without any anatomy capable of doing so... then, well, surely the stallion must have been doing one hell of a job. And until proven otherwise, until given any evidence to show that he was wrong in his supposition, or until the time for their session today ran out, seeking out that smile was precisely what Dave would continue to do.

By Jeeves

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