Page 1 of The Anubis's Massage
Chapter 1
Anubis Massage: Chris
“You almost done down there?” my manager called for the second time in five minutes. “The customer’s waitin’.”
“It’ll be done when it’s done,” I growled back, watching the last of the oil drain into the pan. “I can’t make the shit flow faster.”
“Just hurry it up.”
Jesus fucking Christ. Sometimes I wanted to deck that man. Actually, I wanted to do that nearly every day. But today I was in an especially bad mood. If it wasn’t for the bills I had due at the end of the month, I’d flip him the bird and get the fuck out of there for good. If I did that though… well, I’d probably not work in another garage in the city. Changing oil fucking sucked and was a waste of my time, but it kept the lights on. Until today, I thought that was enough.
The truth was though, I was fucking sick of it.
I twisted the drain plug back in place and rolled out from under the Honda, wiping my greasy hands on my coveralls. The concrete floor was cold against my back, and I could feel the dampness seeping through the thin fabric. My knees cracked as I stood up, reminding me that I wasn't twenty anymore.
The breakup with Sarah this morning kept replaying in my head like a broken record. Her shrill voice echoing through my apartment: "You're going nowhere, Chris. Absolutely nowhere." Maybe she was right. Maybe this was it for me. I would be changing oil filters and draining transmission fluid until my back gave out completely.
I grabbed the new filter from the parts rack, my movements automatic after three years of this shit. But it wasn't just the job eating at me. It was everything else too. When was the last time I'd gotten laid? Really gotten laid, not just the obligatory weekend routine with Sarah that felt more like a chore than anything else. Had to be months now. Maybe longer.
My body was wound tight, all that pent-up energy with nowhere to go. I needed release, needed something to take the edge off this restless feeling crawling under my skin. That's when I remembered the ad I'd seen in the back of the alternative weekly, some place downtown that was described simply as a bathhouse. There was no need for further detail. I knew what that meant, even if I'd never been to one. The place would be full of men. Only men.
The thought should have made me uncomfortable, but instead it sent a strange thrill through me. A hole's a hole, right? At least that’s what I kept trying to tell myself to make it seem less gay. Because I wasn’t… you know… gay. I was a man’s man. I’d been a mechanic all my life and I’d only ever had girlfriends. Hell, I’d hardly even noticed the guys in high school in the showers. And I didn’t look at the dudes in the locker rooms down at the gym either.
Well, not until recently.
Personally, I blamed Reddit. I’d been curating some pretty good porn threads on there, the kind of stuff that got me off pretty quick when I needed to blow off some steam. It was always women. And even when there were guys, I couldn’t seeanything but the fucking. It was as straight as it could be. And always human.
Then, one day, my feed decided to show me something new. Not only were there suddenly some sizable cocks peppered through my scrolling, but there were monster cocks mixed in. And I don’t mean big, I mean they belonged to actual monsters. Werewolves, vampires, beasts, centaurs, dragons… you name it and there were pictures of them.
At first I tried to tell myself it was just curiosity. But the more I looked, the more I realized I couldn’t stop. Before I knew it I was still there on my bed, my cock hard and leaking. Somehow I’d managed to work my shorts down and began stroking. A single thought dominated my psyche that made me breathless.
What would it be like to suck one of those cocks? Or… to be fucked by one?
The shame that followed that particular orgasm put me off masturbation for nearly a month. But every singe time I tried to fuck Sarah or jerk off by myself, all I could think of was those big, veiny, thick cocks leaking pre-cum down my chin. That’s when my problems really began. And they’d only gotten worse since.
But now Sarah was gone and I was horny. And, by some strange stroke of fate, this bathhouse catered to the monstrous kind. It was a place where monsters and humans mingled freely with no separation between them.
Monsters made themselves known in my world when I was young. But it didn’t really change my life much. Sure I saw one on television here and there or at the grocery store. But most of them had human forms that they could take to blend in. As far as I and most other people knew, all of our friends and coworkers were human. Of course, I knew that couldn’t be the truth. But after the violence the monsters faced when they first appeared, it was common courtesy not to ask. Those who chose to live openly were considered brave… or fucking stupid depending on whoyou asked. I was sure as hell glad I wasn’t one. It made life a lot easier. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to bang them.
“Are you finished yet?!” my manager called again.
I realized I’d been sitting there, lost in thought after I’d tightened on the new oil filter.
“Yep,” I called back, putting the last twist on the filter. “Fill it up!”
I heard the oil pump kick in as the car was refilled. I stayed there for a moment, making sure nothing was leaking. When the car was full and everything in its rightful place, I slid out from under the vehicle.
“All good to go,” I said without looking at my manager.
He just scoffed as I turned away, walking back toward the break room. The gates were already closed for the night and the Honda was the last car in line. It was finally time to go home for the weekend and not a moment too soon.
I stripped off my coveralls and stuffed them into my locker, the metal door clanging shut with a satisfying finality. Friday night. Two whole days of freedom stretched ahead of me. No oil changes, no demanding customers, no manager breathing down my neck.
My motorcycle was parked in the back lot, the chrome still gleaming despite the overcast day. I ran my hand along the gas tank, feeling the cool metal beneath my palm. This beauty was the one thing in my life that made sense. There were no complications, no expectations, just pure mechanical perfection and the thrill of going fast.
The ride home was a blur of wind and engine noise, my mind too preoccupied with the bathhouse to notice much else. I kept telling myself it was just curiosity, just a way to blow off steam. Nothing gay about it. Just a place to get my rocks off. Hell, I wasn’t even sure when I would go. Sarah had just left that morning after all.
My apartment felt emptier than usual when I walked in. Sarah must’ve come by to get her shit while I was at work. She’d left her spare key on the table. I scoffed at it, cursing her for leaving me so suddenly with nobody to cover the other half of the rent. Good fucking riddance. A few hundred bucks was a cheap price to pay for freedom. I tossed my keys onto the counter and headed straight for the shower.
