<strong>Enzo's Clinic</strong><br/><br/>"I'm hardly an expert masseuse, though there are several available to you on the island who would be more than happy to sign you up for an extended session. You're in one of the beach houses, I understand. Your assigned guide should be able to find you someone matched to your needs, if they are unable to provide the service themselves."<br/><br/>"That having been said, I have made something of a study of acupressure, the precise manipulation of pressure points to engender desired effects." The thin material of her dress masked the layout of muscles on her back only slightly. A real masseuse would have had her remove it. To Enzo, though, it was hardly a barrier. With the Power extended he could see every square inch of her body with his eyes closed.<br/><br/>He did know a fair bit of massage, but as with many things it was easier to use the Power, and so the skills had atrophied somewhat. He began by gently rubbing the back of her neck, rolling the twin cords of muscle on either side of her spine between his thumbs and forefingers. While his hands performed the repetitive motions he reached into her body. The cause of her migraine was clear, and easily remedied. Blood vessels constricted by stress relaxed, letting the blood flow freely through her head and shoulders. Soon the piercing sensation was replaced with a wave of warm pleasure, seemingly suffusing from within her out to the level of her skin.<br/><br/>It was a chronic problem, but he did not correct the source. The headaches would recur in time, with or without the medication she would leave here with. And when they did, it would only be common sense for her to return here. Enzo found himself looking forward to that. She was no slave, and therefore in most ways off limits to him. In most ways.<br/><br/>His fingers traced the line of her spine, continuing with the gentle rolling massage that was having a relaxing effect all out of proportion to the effort being put in. He stopped at times to rub seemingly random points on her back, no larger than a dime, sometimes for only a few seconds. He was, in fact, toying with her. As each 'pressure point' was activated he sent a small surge of endorphins through her blood.<br/><br/>It did raise an interesting scientific question, one which he had pondered on and off over the last few years. What was the absolute minimum level of Power use which could be expended in order to engender a permanent addiction? It was a question of psychology more than biology, he thought, and highly variable from subject to subject. Although the Power never seemed to run out, except when he was excessively fatigued, logic dictated that it did function from some sort of internal battery. Subtle modifications were a worthy avenue of exploration.<br/><br/>Finally he reached the base of her spine, and withdrew his hands. "There you are. As I said, I'm certain you can find better among the servants, but I hope that it has brought you some measure of relief. If you'll wait here, I'll see about those prescriptions."<br/><br/>In the back room he picked up a plain brown glass bottle of sugar pills with a cork stopper. He'd change them to Motrin once she was holding them. No tricks this time. The toying with Melody earlier had taken his edge off; he was able to keep his need to experiment in check, for now.<br/><br/>"And here you are," he said, handing over the bottle.