Clarice came looking for relief. Nikolas gave her a reason to beg. Slippery oil. Firm hands. A slow build from playful pressure to primal pleasure. Clarice moans beneath their touch, her body betraying her—obedient, open, aching to be claimed. They don't wear a mask, because pups don’t hide. They perform. What starts as a massage becomes a training session in surrender. And by the end, Clarice is panting, trembling, and properly rewarded. She came for relaxation. She left with a puddle between her thighs. The kennel always delivers.