NTR Massage Parlour: A Wellness Technique Guide

”Try not to die?”

Yohan turned to Jenna with a questioning look. He was checking to see if she had heard the same thing the guy he had been fighting had said.

”Sorry about my brother Volcan. He can be intense sometimes,” the grey-haired guy said, still wearing a charming smile. ”I’m Morgan.”

His gaze remained focused on Jenna even as he spoke, almost as if Yohan wasn’t even there.

”Your name is Jenna, right? You were here a few years ago. I remember clearly.”

”You do? But I don’t remember you,” Jenna said, even after giving his face a more careful look.

”I doubt you will,” he laughed sheepishly. ”I wasn’t anything special back then, and we didn’t get to talk like this, so I can understand. It’s just hard for me to forget a pretty face like yours.”

’Of course,’ Yohan thought to himself. It was obvious what was happening.

’This guy is hitting on my girl.’

He was slick, but Yohan could recognize a fellow shark when he saw one, and he wasn’t going to let this man have anything that easily.

But then he stopped himself from interrupting.

’Why am I even getting worked up?’ he wondered.

There was no reason to be concerned over a chump like this. He had gone after women who already had other men in their lives, and he was hardly concerned about another man having them.

’Maybe it’s because I was her first.’

He had almost forgotten that when he first met Jenna, she had been a virgin with almost no sexual experience.

When he gave it some extra thought, it made much more sense.

’I would probably be just as protective of Remi...’

He smirked at the irony of his selfish desire, wanting to keep them all for himself while he did as he pleased. It was funny enough to laugh at, but at the same time, he didn’t need a justification to protect his interests.

He stepped further through the wooden gates, and the road behind him seemed to belong to another world entirely.

The village stretched out ahead, squat wooden houses with thatched roofs, smoke curling from a few chimneys, the smell of woodsmoke and earth hanging in the air.

No paved paths. No wires overhead. Just packed dirt and the low hum of a place that had never needed electricity.

The people moved between the houses in cloth tied and knotted around their bodies rather than stitched into shape, crossed over the shoulder, around the chest, or tied at the waist, layered depending on the wearer.

Some stopped what they were doing to watch him. Others didn’t bother.

They were mostly women—pretty women, the kind that would make every man turn twice. Most of their skin was exposed, making Yohan’s head swing from side to side.

Everywhere he turned, there was a pretty girl staring at him, of all shapes and sizes.

”What kind of place is this...?” he mumbled.

Morgan glanced back at him. ”You’re the first outsiders to come in here in a very long time, so forgive the stares.”

He had a smile on his face, but something about the way he said it made Yohan feel like he wasn’t happy about it.

He could feel the same energy from the men around them. They all had scowls on their faces as he walked by.

’Maybe it’s just a natural reaction, just like I felt with Jenna.’

He told himself that, but he couldn’t understand what exactly their problem was, especially since there were enough women to go around.

For every one man, he could count at least seven women.

’These guys are literally living in heaven.’

A utopia where women outnumbered men was every man’s dream life.

As he walked further, he began to notice that there were also children—not many, but enough to raise concerns.

”Do these children go to school?”

”Of course. They are not barbarians,” Jenna said with a look. ”These people are called Tau fielders. They are a clan with traditional beliefs, so they isolate themselves from the rest of society. But they have a place to educate their young, a clinic, and even something similar to a banking system.”

”That last part was only created very recently by our clan father,” Morgan added. ”and Jenna, we don’t just isolate ourselves because of some crazy belief. It is our way of life. Our ancestors have lived on this land for hundreds of years, so it’s our duty to care for the fields.”

”So you guys don’t answer to the government?” Yohan wondered.

”We legally own the land, so it’s private property. The government has no business here as long as no one invites them.”

”But we do business with the traders at the market. That’s how we sell the products we get from our fields,” he pointed out casually.

’They legally own the land?’

That simple fact stood out to Yohan because of just how massive this place was. He could see the open field of farm all around, stretching out in all direction behind the wooden fence.

’He must be mistaken. Maybe the government left it for them without trying to claim ownership. Who would even want land somewhere this isolated?’

In the middle of the village, right in front of the big house, there was a stone statue that had some blood on it so Yohan thought it resembled a temple of some sort.

”You can both wait here.” Morgan led them inside to a room with no chairs, only soft cushions arranged around a table.

Jenna waited until his footsteps had gone far enough before turning to Yohan.

”Yohan, as I’m sure you can already tell, these people are dangerous.”

”Yeah, it would have helped if you had mentioned that beforehand.” The words came out harsher than he had intended.

The expression on her face shifted, a hint of panic flashing behind her eyes.

”A-Are they really that strong?” she mumbled.

”I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in danger. I just didn’t want to come on my own since I’ve only been here once before.”

Seeing her reaction, Yohan realized that this was partly his fault. He had fully convinced Jenna that he could handle anything that came at him, and so she had acted on that trust.

’Who could have seen that coming?’

’That her high opinion of me would make her lead me to a place that could be full of mystical technique masters...’

’I knew I should have turned back once we got to that creepy warehouse.’