Suffering from shoulder stiffness, a girl from the archery club visits a small massage parlor on a street corner, recommended by her beloved childhood friend.
Just relieving tension. That was supposed to be all it was.
From the shoulders, to the neck, down along the back—
Every time she obediently yields, thinking “If that’s what the practitioner says…”, the treatment gradually slips toward increasingly risqué areas.
Even though she already has someone she loves.
Even though they haven’t even shared a kiss yet.
She can’t stop it. It won’t stop.
It was supposed to be “just a massage,” yet her body alone begins choosing the masseur.
This is the record of how you corrupt and steal away an innocent girl—.
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