Chapter 3

The massage room was thick with heat — candles burning low, oil glistening on the wide, reinforced table. Soft music throbbed low under the steady hammer of the rain against the windows.

Linda led Nina in by the hand. Jon followed close behind, muscles loose, cock heavy between his thighs. Fab drifted in last, still wearing his tight white shorts, the thick bulge swinging as he walked.

Nina stumbled slightly — barefoot, soaked clothes clinging to her trembling body. Her white tank top hugged the heavy swell of her breasts, nipples stiff and begging through the thin, soaked fabric. Her jeans clung mercilessly to her thighs, outlining every lush, trembling curve.

She stood there — shivering, dripping, heart pounding, staring at the three glowing, powerful figures around her.

Linda turned to face her — smiling, wicked and warm, her eyes molten with love.

“You’re safe here,” Linda whispered, stepping closer. “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

Nina’s throat bobbed — lips parting — unsure, overwhelmed, trembling. Linda cupped her wet cheek, her thumb brushing slow across Nina’s burning skin.

“Let us take care of you,” she said, softer now. “Let us love you the way you’ve always deserved.”

Nina whimpered — a sound barely more than breath. Linda moved first. She grasped the hem of Nina’s soaked tank top and began to lift, slow and reverent. The fabric clung stubbornly — sliding wetly up over Nina’s full breasts — nipples scraping hard against the cotton as it rose.

Nina gasped — face flaming, body flushing — but she didn’t pull away. Linda peeled the tank over her head, tossing it aside.

Nina’s breasts bounced free — huge, ripe, glistening — nipples hard, aching, desperate for touch.

Jon stepped closer, breathing hard. His cock twitched, heavy and urgent. He dropped to his knees in front of his daughter without a word — hands sliding up her slick thighs, squeezing gently, worshipfully. He undid the button of her soaked jeans — the snap popping, the zipper dragging slow and low — then murmured,

“So beautiful, sweetheart ... let us see you ... let us make you whole again.”

Nina whimpered — her hands fluttering helplessly at her sides. Jon peeled the jeans down her hips — tender, slow — revealing her bare pussy. She wasn’t wearing panties.

Smooth. Shaved. The soft mound gleaming in the candlelight. Pink, swollen lips glistening with slick. A tiny flushed clit peeking out, already throbbing.

The jeans clung to her thighs — Jon had to tug harder — and when they slid free, Nina stumbled forward, naked and trembling, into Linda’s waiting arms.

Linda caught her easily — holding her close, stroking her soaked hair, kissing her temple.

“It’s okay, baby,” Linda murmured, voice rich and thick. “You deserve to be taken care of. Just breathe. We’re all naked now.”

She looked at Fab — who grinned and, without a word, stripped off his shorts. His body was pure heat — brown skin, rippling muscles, black tattoos winding across his chest and arms. His cock swung free — thick, long, heavy — precum glistening at the wide head.

Nina’s legs wobbled under her. Another rush of slick flooded her cunt — leaking helplessly down her inner thighs. Linda felt it — saw it — and smiled with fierce, maternal pride.

“Look at you,” she whispered. “Already so wet for us. So ready.”

They took their time drying her — loving her.

Linda started with a thick towel — stroking slow, careful lines over Nina’s arms, her back, her shoulders. Jon moved lower — drying her thighs, her calves, her feet — his touch big and warm and impossibly gentle.

When Linda dragged the towel across Nina’s breasts, the roughness made Nina gasp — nipples stiffening even harder under the stroke.