Will You Remember?

He took the knife, and continued the job. His hands were bloody at that point, a fact which he ignored. He did eye the strawberry she plucked. It answered the question on what had set color to her muzzle. “I would enjoy making you feel comfortable, and happy. Feeling you melt beneath my massage was satisfying.” He said with full truthfulness. But he knew she wanted him to say something beyond that, and he considered it for a moment.

“I enjoy discovering what makes the body work, finding the pressure points and connections of muscles, beyond the required understanding for my job.” He paused to yawn, stretching his muzzle, before continuing. “We were taught a memory game, where you massaged a slave, and then they repeated the massage to you, and then extended it. Then you were required to remember your first massage, their extension, and add to it. It added muscle memory, extended our ability to remember things, and gave us a working understanding of what we were doing.” He felt comfortable, and sleepy, and the words continued to flow. When was the last time he had ever said so much at once. “I also enjoy shaping things and watching them grow. I had a Master that had a lavish garden, I was allowed to do minor jobs in it, and I found it very fulfilling. It wasn’t working with herbs or useful things, but bushes and trees that could be shaped.” He paused, brow furrowing. “But I digress. I wisht to know how to please you.