"Is this your first time getting a massage here?" the woman behind the desk asked, clad in a pastel pink uniform. Were it not for her upper canines poking out, their sharp tips denting her plump lower lips, and her eyes, solid gold but for her pupils, she'd have looked like an employee at any human massage parlor.
"Yeah, but my friend's been raving about them so much, I just had to give it a try. He told me I should ask for Belinda?"
Her eyes lit up as she smiled broadly. "That's me! I'm flattered to hear your friend is so delighted with my work. I'd be happy to take care of you today. Please, follow me," she instructed. She lowered down a few feet and appeared to glide to her right, until she got past the desk and revealed that she wasn't gliding, but slithering, her long, thick snakelike tail undulating across the floor beneath her. I stood, waiting for her tail to catch up with her, admiring the colorful mosaic of her scales: a soft, creamy pink, dotted with flecks of red, ranging from scarlet to burgundy.
Her length was a little surprising. I had seen lamias before, of course, demihumans with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a large snake. But I had never been so close to one before, nor with the freedom to let my stare linger on her curves. Her uniform's skirt ended about where a human's mid-thigh would be, with everything beneath exposed and scaled. From farther away, that tail didn't seem nearly so long. But seeing it from a foot away as its full length passed by me dispelled the illusion. She had to have at least twenty feet of snake below her hips, slowly narrowing to a delicate, tapered point. I followed her down the wide hallways of the lamia massage parlor.
I couldn't help but ogle, transfixed, at the sight of her body slithering across the floor. Her elegance belied her size. How strong did her muscles need to be for her to glide so effortlessly like that? Well, I supposed I'd find out soon enough.
"Here we are," she practically sang. She opened the door for me, and thankfully, let me enter first without waiting for her to pass through. "Please undress and lay face down on the mattress. I'll be with you momentarily." She closed the door gently, and I was alone.
The room was suffused with a soft candlelight, and centered around a large, inflatable mattress that was lowered so that its surface was even with the tiled floor. One wall held shelves of various bottles and jars, like an alchemist's lab. I walked over to observe the containers, but the names were in a script I couldn't read. I undressed and set my clothes aside. A towel rested on the mattress. I laid down beneath it and waited.
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. "Are you all set?" Belinda asked.
"Yes."
I heard the door open and close. A susurrus as she entered the room. I turned my head towards the noise and saw her at the shelving, cobbling together a concoction. Her deep red hair, trimmed short, exposed her long, elegant neck. She picked up various bottles and containers, humming to herself as she worked. "Do you like lavender?" she asked.
"I love it," I replied. Although honestly, I had no strong feelings one way or the other. Did anyone?