Rest & Relaxation

Chapter 1
Oasis

“Mary Jane! Mary Jane! Give us a smile, would ya?”

The familiar calls and flurries of clicks and flashes were now part of the routine in Mary Jane Watson’s life following her latest film success. Her career had rocketed off from her early breaks on the runway and small stages to the silver screen. Millions of adoring fans, hundreds of trailing paparazzi, she felt for the first time in her twenty-four years completely out of body, removed from the surroundings. Agents, publicists, press meetings...it was so completely over her head, but the swimming feeling in her stomach of such pride and hunger felt so good.

“MJ! Anything you have to say now that you’re the hottest starlet in all of America?”

She allowed the throng of reporters outside of the building a coy smile from behind the enormous glamorous sunglasses that covered her face. The heat of the city was bearing down on her, but in her yellow summer dress, low cut to reveal her more voluptuous qualities, she felt like she was back home in Queens, a young girl playing make believe in the backyard.

“So how does it feel to be the first person invited to the new exclusive Yamamoto Spa in Manhattan?”

The reporter’s question gave MJ a moment of clarity around the passing chaos. She was so busy she had forgotten how to allow herself time to relax! With Peter away saving the world again, she was free to be America’s new sex symbol, invited to this exclusive resort before the likes of Lindsay Lohan or Britney Spears. They blew up too fast, did too many drugs, they couldn’t handle the pressure, but Mary Jane’s comfortable wave and smile to the crowd of her adoring fans exuded confidence, happiness, and a carelessness that made her so damn irresistible.

Really a shame, considering what Ms. Yamamoto had in store for her.

The building itself was huge, a ten-story complex in glass and steel that had the modern feel suiting to either Tokyo or New York City. But with her first step inside, she felt she was transported to some remote corner of Japan. Women dressed in kimono lined the hallways, eager to please and excite their new guest. From the elevator at the end of the hall, a Japanese woman dressed in formal blue kimono approached Mary Jane, humbly bowing to invite her new guest. MJ felt suddenly completely out of place in her short cotton dress, towering five inches above her Japanese hosts’ head, a full-bodied westerner out of her comfort.

“Welcome, Mrs. Parker, to my new spa. We are greatly pleased to show you around our facilities, and offer you some sanctuary from the noisy city outside.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to be here and meet you, Ms...?”

“Yamamoto. Please, we have so much to show you with our many secrets from the east.”

Mary Jane followed the woman to the elevator, and they went up to the fifth floor inside of a mirrored elevator that forced the two women to share eye contact. MJ thought the whole bit seemed a touch silly. Was Ms. Yamamoto so old fashioned as to refer to Japan as being “the east”? What a blast from the past, she thought. With a brief “ding!” the doors opened, revealing a sterile white hallway that juxtaposed the inviting sound of running water and vivid culture just a few stories below.

“This way. You will begin in room 501, here on your right. The professionals in there will get you started, and please, let go of your inhibitions. Relax! You seem awful tense.”

Her hand moved to turn the knob, and beckoned Mary Jane to enter the room. Inside the room was a small Japanese woman holding a clipboard, and a small couch that MJ threw herself upon from relief to be out of the sight of such a strict looking woman like Ms. Yamamoto.

“Hello, Mary Jane. Before we can begin your exclusive spa treatment, there are a few things we must do first to optimize the efficiency of your treatment.”

Opening her eyes on the couch, MJ felt more like she was at a doctor’s appointment than a relaxing spa. But if a few questions could get her closer to the hot tub, or better yet a Sauna, she would gladly open up.

“Sure thing, miss. What questions do you need to ask?”

“First of all, how old are you Mrs. Parker?”

“Well, I am twenty four years old.”

“Now I must ask you to please remove your clothing so that I may examine your body.”

Mary Jane hadn’t made it in the modeling business to be a total prude, and she had no problem revealing herself to a kind young woman in a spa. With her supermodel figure, had any other man been standing in the room, the temperature would have risen at least ten degrees. She loosened the belt around her waist, and then slid out of her shoes and dress, leaving her in a white bra and silky green thong. The attendant came over and observed MJ’s thin yet curvy shape, the picture of beauty.

“Oh my, Mrs. Parker, you certainly are beautiful.” Her eyes gave a careful examination of Mary Jane while she unhooked her immodest 34D bra, while the attendant continued to scribble away at notes. Finally, down came the underwear, revealing a neatly trimmed natural red muff. She let go a quick giggle for being naked now, thinking that this sight would certainly get Peter’s spider sense tingling. The methodical notation the attendant was taking stopped, and the led Mary Jane to the other door in the room, which opened to reveal a gorgeous, silent private hot spring. With no invitation necessary, she dipped slowly into the bath, feeling so relieved to finally get to the R&R after so much tedious paperwork. She drifted off in the warm radiant water, closing her eyes, unaware of what was going on around her.

Meanwhile, across town, a silver haired figure silently moved through the darkened quarter of the Natural History Museum. Felicia Hardy, once cat burglar, now The Black Cat, crouched in the back of the archives waiting for the clumsy amateurs she was following to make their first mistake. She thought it was quite satisfying now to still have the thrill of expectation, but none of the hassle from the police. Footsteps in the distance. The clanking of a crowbar on the ground, and the sound of nails being extracted from the lid of a sealed wooden box.

Felicia spoke softly. “Amateurs...”

“Any idea what she needs this doohickey for?” spoke one of the goon’s shadows, his disembodied voice was clumsy, fat, slow. The perfect target.

“Beats me. But let’s get out of here. Museum said they’d only look the other way for another ten minutes. We gotta jet.” His voice even more dumb than his partners.

“An inside job!” Felicia covered her mouth in shock. Someone had paid for this object to be stolen from the museum. She stood up to apprehend them, when suddenly there was a loud crack on her skull.

As the blackness fell over her eyes, she heard a woman’s voice whisper

“Amateurs...”

“Misses Parker? Misses Parker?”

Groggy, and blinded by the steam that was rising above her, Mary Jane opened her eyes to find Ms. Yamamoto seated on a rock at the side of the pool, with her austere fa?ade cracked only by a slight smile.

“Yes?”

“We are pleased to welcome you now into our new executive spa. Not even our employees have laid eyes upon its magnificence. Such a small pond isn’t befitting your radiance. Come along. I promise you it will be an experience you shall not forget.”

MJ slowly rose up out of the pool, using her right arm to cover her full and rosy red bosom.

“Towel, please.”

Yamamoto obliged, handing a warm, fluffy towel to her guest. Mary Jane couldn’t deny it was relaxing, but there was something that just gave her the chills about this spa. Maybe she could finally get peace in this new VIP suite.

A long ride to the top floor in the elevator passed in silence, which snapped from awkward to reverent when the doors flipped open to reveal the most enormous, inviting open spa Mary Jane had ever seen in her life. There was a pool, full bar, even a cabana style bed that looked even more spacious and comfortable than the one she had at home. The place made the ordinary VIP treatment seem civilian. The supermodel was at home, and didn’t seem to care about the stern Japanese woman at her back. Immediately, she was drawn to the sauna room, the wind was low but still freezing on her wet body.

“Thank you so much Ms. Yamamoto!” were the last words MJ uttered as she quickly dashed inside the enormous and private Sauna.

“Oh, my dear, the pleasure is all mine.”

With the press of a button, the Sauna doors locked, and a low hissing noise ran through the vents leading into the Sauna on the thirty ninth floor.

Felicia awoke on the hard, freezing floor of the Museum storage at the sound of security now coming in to check that there were no intruders. Her instincts kicked in, and she deftly leapt out of the window, again on the surface of New York. She felt a strange object in her shirt, so she reached in her suit and produced a business card that hadn’t been there before.

YAMAMOTO SPAS

“Oh, these bastards are gonna pay for this.” She never got knocked out, and she figured cracking a few skulls in turn would be fair play. Firing her hook off into the skyline, she took off for the facility.

MJ’s mind relaxed inside of the sauna, and she went into soft focus as the features around her blurred from the rising steam. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in years. It was like back when she was twenty-one, just an aspiring actress, not some big shot supermodel who always had to be somewhere doing something. She could eat the foods she wanted to eat, and just worry about taking care of Peter, who was always getting into some sort of trouble. As soon as she left university, she thought, she could get that modeling career going strong. It was a little bit boring, her sophomore year, and that incredibly boring drama teacher she had. She was so lucky to be at this spa just to get away from all of the pressure of acting and auditioning. She was comfortable in her skin, and felt so fortunate to have the leading role in the fall college production as a freshman! Sure, the role of Blanch Dubois required her to act more Southern Belle than teenager from Queens, but she couldn’t be blamed for the physical limitations. She had firm and high C-cup breasts, which might not fit the proportions of the character perfectly, but that’s what push up bras were for. But her acting career could totally wait. Senior prom was coming up, and taking Peter to the dance was all that was on her mind. Her dress would make her the belle of the ball, as soon as she saved up enough money for the dress. Or the prom! But senior year was so far away, and she had exams she needed to be studying for. She never had time to go to spas, or really take care of herself physically. She never liked being in the Sauna, because she always knew she was naked under that loose towel, and just the right tug would reveal her thoroughly average sixteen-year-old chest. It wasn’t so much that she was uncomfortable with her body as it was; it was just such an improvement from how it was when she just started high school. She shuddered to think about how just over a year ago she desperately ram through the piles of bras at the department store, trying to find a 32B small enough that would jostle her tiny titties out of the A-cup club.

But a loud banging sound interrupted her nervous thoughts. MJ got a big scared, and left the safety of her towel to go explore what was going on at the door. Creeping up on her tiptoes to see over the tall glass, there was a woman in tight black leather roundhouse kicking a muscular man to the ground.

Overcome with the horror of the situation, MJ let out a high pitched squeal of fear, sounding every bit like the pubescent thirteen year old she looked like. The noise seemed to call over the tall, buxom stranger in black to the Sauna door, so Mary Jane ran to the back of the room, behind her towel, to try to hide from the violent stranger. What was she doing in a spa like this anyway, and where were her clothes?

A pounding on the door. Then another. Finally, the door gave way, and the hot steam was sucked out of the room as if the Sauna had automatically shut out.

“Are you alright?” The masked stranger asked this scared frightened adolescent who cowered behind the towel. “It’s OK, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you. But if you tell me those creeps out there laid a finger on you, I might have to break a few more spines out there.

Felicia examined the girl’s bright red hair and scared eyes, they seemed to draw a familiarity, as if she wanted to call out her name, but it just wasn’t coming to her...

“My...my name is MJ.” The trembling girl said.

Felicia stood back in horror. There she was, her nemesis, enemy, source of so much frustration for taking away her dear Peter Parker as a flat chested little squirt.

“Well, Mary Jane. I’m Felicia Hardy, and I think we must reintroduce ourselves.