MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 671

Chapter 671: Girls’ Night-2

A few minutes passed by as the three women sat in perfect silence, as though savoring every ounce of relaxation offered by the warm, luxurious water they were immersed in. Their bodies rested, their minds adrift, their souls quiet. It was a silence not of emptiness, but of fulfillment, the kind of stillness that comes only when every burden has been cast aside.

Then suddenly, a soft chime echoed gently within the chamber, breaking the serene silence for but a moment. The sound was delicate, crystalline, like the faint ringing of a bell touched by wind.

A few seconds later, the door to their secluded sanctuary slid open, and through the entrance stepped six women, each entirely naked. Their forms were graceful and unashamed, their presence unaccompanied by hesitation. Three of them carried trays upon which rested an array of exquisite skin products, the fragrances faintly drifting into the room as they approached.

Neither Veronica, Vega, nor Seraphim reacted to this intrusion. They remained composed, unmoved, their stillness unbroken. Though Seraphim was new to this place, having never before stepped foot on the planet Vazeim, she had already been briefed by Veronica and Vega about what was to come. Thus, she awaited silently, without surprise.

The six women moved with an elegance that could almost be described as serpentine. Their steps were fluid, deliberate, their motions flawless, as though their very bodies had been taught to flow like water. They slipped into the vast pool-like bathtub with practiced ease, the water rising to greet their skin, caressing every curve as they entered.

Once inside, the six divided themselves into three pairs, each pair moving deliberately toward Vega, Veronica, and Seraphim. With gentle ease, they began their work. Two women to each, their hands moved with measured precision, their touch soft yet purposeful. They began massaging the three women’s bodies, the strokes long, rhythmic, and skilled.

At Vega’s side, one woman reached for a small tube from the tray, uncapped it, and pressed a bit of its gel-like contents onto her hand. The substance was pale and glistening, with a faintly sweet fragrance.

She applied it carefully to Vega’s flawless face, her fingers working in circular motions, massaging the gel into Vega’s skin with the utmost delicacy, careful not to push too hard nor move too fast. Every motion was made with the art of patience, the gentleness of reverence.

While this was being done, the second woman at Vega’s side worked lower, her fingers moving along Vega’s thighs and calves beneath the water, her touch expert and graceful in its perfection. Her hands moved with fluid rhythm, pressing into the muscle, teasing out every fragment of fatigue, every knot of tension.

Vega’s eyes remained closed, her face serene, though the faintest curve of a smile graced her lips.

The same was mirrored at Seraphim’s side. One of the attendants had taken a delicate, oil-like lotion and was applying it to Seraphim’s silver hair. The strands gleamed beneath the careful treatment, every strand tended to with meticulous care, as though the woman feared to miss a single strand. The sensation was intoxicating, soothing Seraphim in ways she had never imagined possible.

The minutes passed by in silence, but it was a silence filled with meaning, a silence drenched in bliss. Veronica, Vega, and Seraphim seemed to drift into another world, a world where time lost meaning, where only the gentle touch of hands, the soft warmth of water, and the embrace of scented steam existed.

Then, as if moving in perfect synchrony, the six women shifted the three onto their stomachs, turning them over so that they lay face-down, their heads resting within the water.

But none of them struggled. They were cultivators; their bodies could endure hours without breath if necessary, and a few minutes submerged beneath water was nothing.

The attendants’ hands did not falter, moving with mechanical precision yet retaining the tenderness of human care. Fingers glided along the curves of their backs, tracing every line of tension and releasing it with careful kneading. Each stroke sent waves of ecstasy flowing through their bodies.

At Seraphim’s side, her body surrendered to the sensation, her lips parting as soft, relaxed sounds escaped her throat, sounds that bordered on delicate moans. She did not care to suppress them, for this was bliss unbound.

In her mind, a question burned quietly: ‘Where had this planet, this Vazeim, been all her life?’

She felt as though decades, perhaps even centuries, of accumulated military fatigue were being stripped from her body, washed away with each touch, each stroke, each caress. She felt whole. She felt renewed. She felt beautiful in a way she had nearly forgotten she was.

Her body seemed to rejoice, to scream in happiness, reminding her that she was a woman first, not merely a soldier, not merely a warrior.

She was meant to care for herself, to indulge, to nurture her body and soul like this, not once in a lifetime, but as often as the moon itself graced the skies, maybe wice a month and after every mission. But her mind was far too lost in bliss to heed the wisdom her body cried.

Once again, in flawless synchrony, three of the attendants reached for the trays, this time lifting a small pot. From it, they drew delicate leaves shaped like lotus and clover, dropping them into the warm bath. The leaves floated upon the surface, releasing subtle fragrances that mingled with the steam.

They then poured a crystalline white substance into the water, a sand-like powder that sparkled faintly like sugar, its purity dissolving instantly as it mingled with the bath.

Their task completed, the six women rose gracefully, their bodies dripping with water that shimmered in the candlelight. With a gentle bow, they departed the pool, their footsteps light and soundless. As they left, drops of water fell from their bodies, splashing upon the floor, yet each droplet vanished instantly upon contact, as though erased from existence.

Minutes slipped by once more, and still, not even Seraphim, Vega, nor Veronica spoke. Words were unnecessary. They were too far gone, immersed in a world of their own, worlds of silence, bliss, and unbroken peace.

Then, without warning, the water within the pool began to drain, flowing smoothly through the openings at the bottom. Slowly, steadily, the pool emptied, leaving the women with no choice but to rise. Vega, Veronica, and Seraphim stood to their feet with graceful ease, their faces adorned with serene smiles.

But before a single word could escape their lips, the door opened once again.

Another group of six women entered, though unlike the previous attendants, these were clothed in elegant garments. Each carried trays of various content, some with folded robes of purest white.

They stepped forward, presenting the robes with practiced grace. Vega and her companions accepted them, slipping the garments over their damp bodies. Instantly, the fabric absorbed all traces of water, leaving them perfectly dry in moments, as though the robes themselves were woven of magic.

At the corner of the room, the floor split open with a soft hiss, and from beneath, three luxurious chairs, massage-like in design, rose steadily. Without hesitation, Vega, Seraphim, and Veronica stepped out of the drained pool and took their seats upon the chairs. They reclined comfortably, each exhaling in quiet satisfaction.

The six attendants wasted no time. Once again, they divided into pairs, two women attending to each client. With the trays set beside them, they began their next task with flawless rhythm.

Pedicure and manicure.

Towels of immaculate white were used to clean their feet and hands, the touch soft, deliberate, reverent. Emery boards, nail files of refined design, were lifted, used to sharpen, smoothen, and perfect their nails.

The transition between steps was seamless. There was no pause, no fumbling. From filing to shaping, from cleansing to pampering, the process unfolded like a performance practiced countless times.

And thus, the girls’ night continued. The minutes stretched into timelessness as the trio of Vega, Veronica, and Seraphim surrendered themselves to the luxury of the moment. They wished, in the depths of their hearts, that this evening would never come to an end, that this paradise would last forever.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: These two chapters are dedicated to my female readers. If there is a boys’ night out, why not a girls’ night out?

Of course, I wonder if this is what happens during women’s relaxation and spa times. If it isn’t, feel free to tell me what really happens.

If my writing and chapter are indeed correct in what happens, don’t ask me how I know… (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡