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This story was written for Serling as part of his Patreon commission reward for November 2018. It contains massage related transformation and goo-play involving consenting adults, and some paw focused content. :3

Footpaw Friday

On the last Friday of every month, the Spa ran a discount on a particular type of massage.

'Sore feet after a month hard at work? Celebrate payday by putting your feet up and letting us massage your cares away. Come visit us this Footpaw Friday for 50% off your foot massage!'

Normally Serling didn't jump on this offer quite simply because it was fairly rare that he felt as though it was his feet which were in the most need of relaxation, and also because if he was honest most times he wanted the complete package. But this past week in particular, Serling had found himself having the worst foot cramps in his left paw. He didn't know why, if he'd trapped a nerve or stubbed a toe and damaged some musculature without realising it. One way or the other though, he was in dire need of some relief, so when he realised what Friday was rapidly approaching he chose to take advantage of the reduced price and select a foot massage in place of his normal massage. Thankfully his regular presence at the Spa still meant he could pick the massage therapist of his choice, and eagerly the coyote picked Harrison. Sure, for some people a foot massage might mean gentle relaxation through an immensely soft and tender massage. But given the pain and the tension present in Serling's paw, what he wanted was an absolute guarantee that any knots and pains in that portion of his body would be driven out, and there was no-one better equipped for that in all the world as far as he was concerned than the Spa's resident bull.

Friday couldn't come fast enough, and on the day in question Serling was so frustrated by the semi regular yet entirely unpredictable spasms running through his foot that he actually arrived at the Spa a full thirty minutes early. For twenty minutes he sat in the reception area, wincing every now and then as his foot cramped up agonisingly and trying his best to keep his leg moving in the hopes that would keep it from doing so again. Thankfully though before the coyote could go too crazy with the pain of just sitting there and waiting while totally unable to do anything about his situation, a figure appeared at the doorway which led from the reception area to the massage suites themselves. A large and imposing figure whom some could and probably still did find intimidating, but whom Serling knew well enough by that point to provoke a smile as soon as he stepped into view.

"Hey, Serling. They told me you were here already. I'm done with my last appointment, so if you want to come on through, we can get you all set up so we're ready to start dead on the hour."

The bull, dark furred but dressed in the same lavender scrubs as the rest of the massage therapists on staff even if they did cling to his bulky, muscular body in a way that suggested they didn't quite make sizes up to his level, beckoned for the coyote to follow him, and half hopping on his pained foot the coyote happily did so. On the way Harrison asked about his foot, whether it had been hurt and how long the cramps had been going on once Serling informed him of the reason behind his discomfort. The massage therapist nodded, and as he ushered Serling into one of the massage rooms he firmly patted the coyote on one shoulder.

"Don't worry. Get undressed and hop yourself up onto the table, and... though strictly it isn't contained within the fifty percent off offer, maybe I'll slip a little of our patented massage oil into today's blend, make sure that every last knot possible is wrung out of your feet."

Serling's eyes widened, and had Harrison not already wandered across the room to start preparing the massage oils in question the coyote felt as though he might well have flung his arms around the bull and hugged him tightly. Instead he hobbled over to the table as instructed, removed his clothes with the familiarity of someone who's bare or towel-clad rump had been seen by Harrison dozens of times before, and laid himself down with a whimper of relief as his foot twinged for what he hoped would be the final time. For barely a minute he lay still and silent, trying to focus on the sounds of Harrison's movement and the gentle melodic music which played throughout the Spa's massage suites by default unless some specific music or lack thereof was requested. Serling partially succeeded insofar as while his foot still hurt, he was now aware that he was counting down a matter of seconds rather than minutes until his pain was resolved. Sure enough, Harrison's heavy hoofbeats soon approached from behind, and rather than seeing the bull side into his periphery to one side of his torso like normal, Serling gasped as he heard the familiar cracking of the bovine male's strong hands at the far end of the table.

Without a word, Harrison began to work. Serling listened to the familiar sounds of massage oil being applied on expert hands, and then he felt heaven and hell meet in perfect union for a moment as Harrison's left hand wrapped around his left footpaw, and the bull's sturdy thumb pressed down hard on the centre of Serling's padded sole. Pain lanced through his foot as it spasmed and cramped up, and a yelp of pain escaped the coyote's muzzle despite his best attempts to restrain himself. Just moments later though, as Harrison applied more and more pressure, something gave way. Before the massage oil could even take effect, before the tingling could even begin to soothe and soften up Serling's paw in that miraculous way that the massage oil unique to this Spa was able to, Serling felt Harrison's forceful touch strike at some pressure point within his paw that none of his own amateurish fumblings at home try to relieve the pressure had been able to achieve.

Again Serling cried out, but this time in relief as his toes splayed out, flexed, and... nothing. No pain. No discomfort. No cramping. He shuddered and wriggled his toes, gasping happily again as once more there was no pain. God, he could hardly believe it had been fixed so fast. He could hardly believe that anyone could be as strong or as talented as Harrison. And of course, he absolutely couldn't find the words in that moment to thank the bull. All that he could do was murmur and whimper as with that same firm touch Harrison rubbed and squeezed and coaxed the tension out of every inch of the coyote's paws whether or not Serling had even realised that tension existed in those other parts, and by the time after just a couple of minutes he began to feel his paws actually softening under the influence of the massage oil, they already felt so wonderfully soothed and relaxed, so limber and loose that for a few moments he somehow felt as though they were lighter than air.

"O-ohh..."

Serling blushed and put a hand over his muzzle as he moaned audibly, not erotically at all but just in pure and joyous contentment as he felt Harrison beginning to not just massage, but bend and tug and squish his softening, increasingly malleable paws. The tingling of the massage oil's magical influence was in full effect by that point, and as Harrison pulled on each toe in turn and Serling felt them stretch out like well worked bread dough, an almost ticklish sensation that Serling had never really noticed when his feet were worked on as merely a part of his whole body began to creep through the coyote's nervous system. Before he knew it, he was giggling; blushing, whimpering and trying to stifle his mirth, but utterly unable to do so. His wiggled his legs as he realised to his dismay and helpless amusement that he couldn't curl his toes or tense up the muscles in his feet to try and mitigate some of the sensation quite simply because his feet were now too soft and increasingly too squished and incorporated into a single ball of quivering fleshy goo to make any such movements. It wasn't even Harrison's touches which were causing the tickling. It was coming from within, self-stimulating, self-propagating, and thus utterly impossible to stop.

Squirming, giggling and whining high in the back of his throat, Serling did the only thing he could think of in that moment to rid himself of this pleasant yet wholly unbearable sensation. He raised his head, and even as the bull continued to massage and thoroughly squish his uncontrollably ticklish feet, he begged Harrison to assist him in a very different way.

"Aahh... Harrison, it... my feet, the oil. It, hahaaaahaahahahhhhh... it tickles! Please, I... I caaahhhaahahhh... I can't relax like this. Can you do something to take the focus off them? I... I'll pay the difference. Please, I just... ooh god, it's getting stronger! It's getting more... mmore ticklish. It's not going away. Not stopping no matter how much you... aaaahahhahhahaaa, please help!"

The bull's hands ceased their movement, and over his own helpless bursts of laughter Serling heard Harrison chuckle.

"Sure I can. Anything in particular you had in mind?"

Serling tried to think, but no sooner had he done so another wave of ticklish sensation with no origin point and thus no way to stop it whatsoever washed over his feet and shot up the length of his prone and exposed body. He yelped with mirth and shook his head.

"Nooooo! Anything. Anything, please!"

Once more he heard the bull snort with amusement. He felt the strong massage therapist's hands fall away from his feet, and then as his footpaws continued to tingle with that unbearable ticklishness as they quivered and rested in their massaged, flattened and squished-up glory, he felt Harrison's hands grasping at other parts of his body. Rolling him over onto his back, and cradled into the powerful bovine male's arms. Serling whimpered and gasped bashfully as he was lifted clean off the massage table and carried with arms under his shoulders and knees over to a different portion of the room, a spot where on a raised platform a shallow paddling-pool like ceramic structure was set into the floor. Once or twice in the past Serling had been placed in one of these pools for a complete liquefaction, when lying upon a table would have resulted in him running off into puddles on the floor. But right now he didn't care what Harrison's intent was, not so long as it freed him from this ticklish prison of his own body in which he was currently locked, far more pleasant but almost as fatiguing and wholly un-relaxing as the foot cramps which had preceded it.

"Don't worry, Serling. By the time I'm done, you won't just be able to ignore those ticklish tingles."

After being laid out on the floor in that tub, Serling felt Harrison step away again, only to return a few moments later and begin to drizzle his entire body from on high with what felt like the very same massage oils which had been applied to his feet. He looked around, but from the current angle at which he was lying all the coyote could see were Harrison's huge, shiny black hooves. And as the tingle of the massage oil's presence began to spread across his body, and to the coyote's abject relief the tickling sensations did begin to diminish as they became far less the sole focus of his body's sensory systems, Serling watched as Harrison's powerful hooves took a step forward. Then another, and another until he was hovering right at the edge of the tub, almost like he was going to step into it alongside his client.

"In fact... by the time I'm done, I'll be willing to bet you won't be able to think about anything much at all, you'll be so completely relaxed."

Harrison took another step forward, and Serling yelped, not in pain at all but definitely in surprise as the bull's hoofed right foot, and thus his entire weight alongside it, stepped forward and onto the coyote's chest. A chest which, thanks to the massage oil which had been liberally poured upon it a minute or so prior, didn't ache or groan or threaten to give way under the far larger mammal's weight, but instead began to let that hoof sink into it like a paw placed in wet sand on the seashore.

"Oh, and don't worry about any extra charge for this."

The bull added as he moved his left foot to rest close by the right, shuffling, re-arranging his gait and stomping on more of Serling's rapidly softening body beneath him as he did so.

"After all, you paid for a foot massage. And, who's to say that it's any different, just because it's my feet doing the massaging, rather than yours getting them."

Serling whimpered in gratitude. Harrison chuckled once again, and then... then the bull began to stomp on Serling. To squish him, to flatten and liquefy the rapidly softening coyote with his powerful hooves, and true to his word, to do so much more than just taking Serling's mind off the ticklish feelings emanating from his already squished and well massaged feet. Within minutes Serling was a flattened, splattered puddle of well stomped goo who could only focus on a contented, utterly relaxed tingling throughout the entirety of his body. And by the time the hour long massage session was over... if there were any coherent thoughts whatsoever left in the disparate, squished and temporarily gooified remains of Serling's mind, it wasn't about any discomfort, any ticklishness or anything else that could interfere with his complete and total relaxation.

It was simply a vague awareness of what had happened, and a lingering desire to ask for the same treatment again next month, with his newfound appreciation for both Harrison's technique, and of course for Footpaw Friday.

By Jeeves

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