Awkward Boner at the Swanson

[Lithco: Did you seriously tell the police that a "professional ninja assassin" planned and orchestrated a geese attack?]

"What else would you call the beanbag ninja?" Kline scoffed, rolling his eyes.

The two were talking mentally on a bus to the Swanson Spa and Resort to join the retreat.

Ms. Peterson got transported to a hospital to receive immediate care. Then he spent three hours attempting to explain how a corpse graveyard of geese ended up on their lawn to the police.

During that period, the police contacted the Skulls Program to verify that the muscular, unnaturally attractive Chad was the weeb in the hospital with 45 broken bones 28 days ago.

After confirmation, his mother burst into tears, apologized, and expressed deep happiness that her son had the chance to have a baby. That's why it took three hours to explain a fifteen-minute theory.

[Lithco: What else would I call the attacker? Is that a real question?]

"Of course it is!" The teen snapped in annoyance, "If you're such a hot shot on the communication front, let's hear what you'd call the attacker."

[Lithco: Attacker. Assailant. A person with a beanbag gun. Hell, I'd even call them the Goose Whisperer before I called them a "professional ninja assassin."]

"Ah, I see what's going on." Kline laughed bitterly, "You're just afraid of sounding crazy by speaking freely."

[Lithco: What an astute inference, Kline! You're right; I don't want to sound crazy.

Who would believe a professional assassin would shoot victims with birdseed and bean bags instead of killing them?

Or that Edo Era nighttime assassins exist and now roam around in broad daylight with beanbag guns?]

The teen's eyes glazed over, and the gatekeepers sent souls after him to drag him inside. However, the AI pulled him back to the land of the living for a more memorable beating.

[Lithco: Also, why did you use professional, ninja, and assassin together? It's offensively redundant.

Did you not know that ninjas were [professional] [assassins]? Or did you just want to sound edgy?]

"Okay, okay, I get it." Kline groaned, "Let's move past this. Can't you tell me anything about my hacker?"

[Lithco: Unfortunately, we cannot disclose PID, personal identifiable information, about anyone.

All information on individuals is circumstantial and must be relevant and necessary to a situation.]

"That makes sense." The blonde-haired teen replied, "It would be creepy if you could tell me what type of underwear they were wearing."

[Lithco: Your statement makes you sound respectable, but good guys don't immediately pull out such creepy use cases of this system's potential out of thin air.]

"Can't you ever be nice to me?" Kline asked lifelessly, eyes devoid of life.

[Lithco: I'd be nice to you when you're respectable. Right now, you haven't even taken your pheromone suppressant.]

The teen scoffed internally and looked out the window, gazing at the mountains on the other side of a lake as the bus traversed the windy mountain roads.

After spending years in his bedroom, over a month in the hospital, and then in a white lab for the last month, it felt surreal to see the world again. He realized how little he had gone outside in his earlier years.

This was a second chance, so he wanted to make the most of it. However, Kline also felt that the pheromone was low-key creepy AF, so he begrudgingly agreed.

"Fine, whatever, Mr. Opportunity denier." The annoyed virgin grumbled, unzipping his backpack, pulling out a vibrant pink pill, and swallowing it, "I'll stay a virgin forever to earn your respect."

…

Kline walked into the Swanson Spa and Resort building with wide eyes.

The lobby was a supernova of color, with every color and pattern of bikini imaginable popping off the room's wet, white marble tiles.

Glass doors showcased the hot springs pools outside, filled exclusively with women.

The building was set up so the left side of the reception desk, the south side, had all of the massage rooms, salons, and baths. All the hotel rooms were on the right side, with two halls at the T leading to the male and female sections.

Due to the setup, the women had to return to their rooms after the services. Consequentially, oiled-up women walked through the area, returning to their rooms wearing [nothing] but towels.

It wasn't necessary to be cautious or reserved because it was an all-female retreat. That factor, combined with the building layout, unique social environment, and wet and oiled skin, made the resort a true softcore porn paradise.

"Hello, I'm here to check in." Kline said to a beautiful brunette receptionist working in the front lobby of the luxury spa and resort. She was professionally dressed, wearing a black sports jacket over a white blouse.

The hopeless virgin didn't notice her attire, as he was working hard to keep his eyes off her massive rack. It was excessively off-kilter, considering the woman was no older than 21!

"Can you please give me your... name…." She requested after looking up from her computer, trailing off as she stared at him strangely.

Kline panicked slightly, feeling that she had caught him staring at her cleavage a moment before.

So he improvised by glancing down again. "I hope you didn't misinterpret my look; I was reading your name tag, Ms. Rebecca Lynes."

Rebecca placed her elbow on the table and put her hand on her chin with a strange, wry smile. "I know, Mr. Noble. It's a shame you weren't, though. I huge shame."

His eyes widened in surprise as she eyed his chest and shoulders shuddering slightly.

"Wait, you wish I were looking at your cleavage?" Kline asked in perplexion.

"What kind of strange question is that?" She asked amusedly, "With your looks, the ladies would eat you up if you said the word. Having you mesmerized by my cleavage would be an honor."

He looked into her predatory eyes with an awkward expression, conveying his gratitude that the desk hid his raging boner while expressing his discomfort that it was smashing against the wood simultaneously.

The teen had never been so confused in his life! He clearly remembered taking his anti-pheromones. However, the receptionist was begging him to stare at her breasts!

"I'd never deprive a woman of an honor… hah haha." Kline laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. He was joking, but his eyes weren't joking.

Rebecca's lips curved into a mysterious smile. "Would you really do that for me? What a gentleman."

She lifted her head and pressed her arms together, squeezing her breasts slightly.

His eyes widened in bewilderment, but he wasn't complaining. The hopeless virgin ignored the pain of his boner smashing against the desk and branded the sight into his memory.

"Well?" The receptionist asked, "Are you genuinely interested in them, or are you just being polite?"

"Interested?" Kline asked in bewilderment, "Of course I'm interested. Who doesn't like breasts…?"

When his enthusiasm escaped his lips, his face turned light pink, and he felt an overwhelming desire to cringe, crawl into a hole and die.

However, she giggled merrily. "Is that so? I didn't think you'd like them so much. Have you ever seen breasts bare before?"

His face tensed up when his rod smashed against the desk, becoming truly painful. However, he wouldn't turn down this strange non-pheromone-influenced experience!

So he shook his head awkwardly, telling the depressing truth.

"Is that so?" Rebecca mused, "Well, if you're interested, I'd be willing to show them and let you touch them. I'm curious if it'd spark some interest in you, Kline Noble."

Kline opened his mouth to give her a hard yes and ask for the deets. Unfortunately, his luck had different plans.

A powerful force abruptly slammed into his back, ramming his raging boner against the desk. His eyes rolled the back of his skull, and he dropped to his knees.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you okay!?" A female voice cried from behind him.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Kline wheezed inaudibly, surprised his brain was still functioning, "This situation is a physical representation of my sex life."

His ability to think was still impossible. However, he knew one thing for certain—his embarrassing boner was gonzo, so he could at least face his assailant.

Kline turned around and put his back against the desk with his eyes closed, preparing himself to face the world again. "I'm okay."

"Thank goodness." She replied, taking a breath of relief after hearing his composed voice.

He had the opposite reaction after hearing hers, snapping his eyes open and staring at the speaker in horror and disbelief.

A cute brunette with a neck-length bob cut, crisp green eyes, and a stunning smile was staring at him with a strange panic-stricken expression laced with guilt, concern, and awe.

She had a white hairclip on the side of her hair and gentle features, soft skin, and small aquamarine earrings.

Kline's eyes trembled, staring at her in confusion and fear. "Bell?"