She purred in satisfaction as the massage began. She'd heard wonderful things about this spa in various advertisements. She hadn't been able to track down anyone who had actually been there, but the place was clearly doing a bustling business, so she decided they must be doing something right. As soon as the female masseuse had put her fingers to work, she knew she'd made the right decision.

"Now, do you want the deep tissue, or the special?" asked the masseuse.

"The special?"

"Oh, yes. We've never had a complaint about that one. And it actually earns you a rebate. Fifty percent back, at least. We've got a deal right now where if you don't like it, in thirty days you'll get a complementary massage of your choice as a way of showing our appreciation for giving the service a try."

She shrugged. "I guess I'll give it a try. At half price, if I don't like it, I can just have the deep tissue afterward, right?"

"I don't think you'll need it. Like I say, we've never had a complaint. One moment."

The masseuse left and returned with a spray bottle and a pair of gloves. Taking care not to let any of the mist waft back in her direction, she spritzed the woman on the table, then began to run gloved hands over the woman's body. The stuff felt a bit like oil, slick and a little thick, but everywhere it touched felt wonderfully warm and tingly. Then came the massage proper. The woman's fingers teased out the knots in her muscles, but they didn't nearly stop there. With each passing moment, the woman's clutching fingers seemed to push deeper into her flesh, caressing and massaging so deep it almost felt like the probing fingers could reach her bones. It was so far beyond anything she'd ever felt in a massage. So much deeper and more relaxing. Indeed, her muscles felt like pudding.

"I'm going to roll you over now," the masseuse said.

The lucky client murmured something incoherent, unwilling and unable to conjure up the muscle control necessary to speak properly. When the masseuse slipped her fingers underneath and began to slide her, however, something dully registered as not quite right. She could swear she felt her thigh sag under her own weight as it was scooped and rolled over.

She let her eyes flutter open and grinned as the masseuse began to knead her breasts. She then moved down to her thighs and pinched and rubbed them. From there, she took the woman's ankles and gently lifted them, bending her legs over and pressing her knees to her chest. The customer raised an eyebrow at the odd bit of positioning, then released an odd combination of wheeze and moan as the woman started to put pressure on her folded legs. It was such a unique sensation, she could feel warmth spreading over her thighs, like they were being dipped into a bath that was the perfect temperature. When the pressure lightened, she opened her eyes and glanced down again. Instantly her mouth dropped open and her eyes goggled.

Her legs had, for lack of a better word, mushed into her body. Her flesh had deformed like putty and folded into itself. She tried to urge the masseuse to stop, but her lungs, which had been squished beneath her knees and breasts, didn't seem to be up to the task. Instead she raised her hands to try to push the masseuse away. The woman merely cooed and shushed the customer as she would a fussy baby, taking the resisting hands and easily folding them into the wad of dough that her body had become. It was about this time that the customer stopped trying to resist. First, because she no longer had any extremities to resist with, and second because nothing had ever felt this good. Every molecule of her body seemed to be as relaxed as it had ever been. It all felt so warm and soft and sensuous. All she could do is vaguely grin when the masseuse leaned down gave the woman a light kiss on the lips, then cupped her head in her hands and folded it down into the rest of her doughy mass.

Her vision plunged into sort of a warm, pink darkness, and her hearing soon followed. Her whole mind and body was quite literally putty in the masseuse's hands. And it was heavenly.

The masseuse, now no longer bound to the requirements of normal anatomy, picked up the softened customer and began to work her flesh-colored mound like pizza dough. She rolled it into itself, stretched it out, and even gave it a few tosses. Then she began to roll it into long tubes, folding it over and rolling it again. Each time it seemed to become a little firmer and a little smaller. Soon what had been a full sized woman was a double handful of firm, rubbery substance. She worked it vigorously until it was a rough cylinder about ten inches long. It was a very... useful shape.

"Now we're just going to finish you up with a full body massage," she said, knowing it was unlikely the woman could hear her.

She lifted the hem of her skirt and began to tease her folds a bit with the phallic customer, then eased her into the moist and eager cleft. For the altered customer, it was like she'd been slid into a tight, hot embrace. The masseuse concentrated, clutching, squeezing, and suckling at the warm intrusion in order to better massage the shape. Gradually she worked the shape in and out, faster and deeper, until she felt it begin to quiver with ecstasy. The whole shaft of her body vibrated with an intense orgasm brought on by the stimulation, and the shaking quickly pushed the masseuse over the peak as well. This brought a glorious crescendo to the massage, clenching down hard around the changed woman and briefly slurping her entirely inside her masseuse.

With expert muscle control, the professional squished the woman back out, letting the long shape slither out into her waiting hands. She then gave it a quick rinse in warm, soapy water and brought it to a display cabinet, where it was placed beside several similar shapes, albeit with slightly different skin tones.

"You'll be getting a few free massages over the next month. I know I'll get good use out of you. After that, the spray should wear off and you can let me know how you liked 'the special.'