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She knew the ropes and clambered on the table, having to remove the towel which Colin took and laid face down, her head on a soft, feather light, small pillow. A small towel was placed over her butt.The masseuse dribbled oil on Frances’ back and shoulders and proceeded with his duty. Colin moved round to the end of the table to lean equally over her torso applying pressure and treatment where it mattered. Frances sighed inwardly at the sensations, relieving her tension.“If you don’t mind Mrs McDermot, I’ll lower the table a little, to reach over and down your back. It’s better if I do it all the same time?” She agreed, feeling herself going down maybe two or three centimetres, not a lot, but sufficient to let the not tall young man to reach. Colin leaned over her head, his nimble finger working their magic. Frances’ face was at exactly the same level of his white trouser clad groin and she could not avoid noticing a nice bulge.Young Ridpath marvelled at the smooth silkiness of his. He moved to put his arms under the old man, but he pushed him away and shook his head, weakly.“No,” he whispered.“Oh, so can you teleport? Do you have a broom around somewhere?” Cameron looked around the bathroom. Maybe Ben had come to this room for a reason.The old man put his hand on his arm. “My boy,” he said, “I am finished.”Cameron couldn’t accept it. “What do you mean? I can carry you--”“Mr. Cameron, please settle and listen, there are things you must know.”Cameron forced his mouth closed. The old man didn’t look like he had a lot of time.“You are probably most ... concerned...” he started, and coughed.“With getting you out of here,” Cameron finished for him.Ben smiled. “Be honest, boy. With the completion of your cure.”Cameron grimaced.Ben’s eyes found his and locked on to them with unexpected intensity.“Mr. Cameron, there is no cure.”Cameron’s mouth dropped open until he got another lungful of dirty air and started gagging and spluttering again.“WHAT?” he choked out.“I am.
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