In the dimly lit, incense-filled room, Surakku's camera captures the intimate awakening of Asian rose, Roshutsu. Her petite frame, draped in a thin robe, trembles as she lies face down on the massage table. The therapist's skilled hands begin at her shoulders, kneading away tension, gliding down her back, and pausing at her lower curves. Roshutsu's breath quickens as the therapist's touch becomes more suggestive, her walls of inhibition slowly crumbling under the expert, slippery strokes.