***This is “erotica” in that there are erotic moments, but again, no sex. I am trying to focus on sensuality and imagination in my own brand of erotica… for the moment. Hope you like it!***
Jo was burned out, and it had been a long time coming. She had booked the day off work to see her doctor to talk about the downward shift in her mood and energy. She had been in denial that she was approaching a depressive episode; she didn’t have time for that shit. She was too busy and stressed. She had a family. She had a tough job. Things were actually going pretty well…ish. Depression takes up lots of time, and has a way of pissing on you when you’re on your way up.
But she had to face reality: on Friday, she completely froze at work, and found herself unable to function. She remembered just standing there, amid the chaos and confusion that was unfolding before her, unable to think, say or do anything. She was a complete blank. And it felt terrifying. She needed a mental health day to get her head sorted.
After her appointment, she booked a massage and an hour in a sensory deprivation tank at a spa in her city. She had been there many times before and knew what to expect.
But this time, she had a different massage therapist, who was walking towards her as she waited at reception.
“Hi, Josephine? I’m Beatrice. Care to follow me?” Beatrice’s smile shone down at a stunned Jo, who found herself frozen once more… but in a good way. A very good way. Beatrice was about 5’7″ with a slender build, soft light brown wavy hair that framed a very lovely visage, and depthless dark brown eyes. Jo was instantly attracted to her.
“Ummm… sure.” She mumbled as she grabbed her belongings. Beatrice, without asking, relieved Jo of her things, already alleviating some of the stress that had been ravaging its way through her muscles, especially the one embedded in her chest.
“Please. Allow me. You can relax now. It begins now, ok?” Beatrice said as she lead Jo to a small candle-lit room that smelled of white sage — which, to her, was a most comforting aroma.
Jo laughed uncomfortably, feeling like her heart was exposed, and that Beatrice could sense the cracks weaving themselves through it.
“Please, have a seat, Josephine.” Beatrice instructed with a warm smile. Jo did as she was told.
“So, what brings you here today?”, asked Beatrice. Jo felt her face blush as she toiled with whether or not to tell the truth. She finally opted for honesty: “In all honesty, I just need to be touched. Things have been so hard, and I feel my depression returning. I just want to forget everything for a bit.” Beatrice regarded her client with a completely unguarded expression, which Jo wasn’t expecting. Beatrice seemed to reflect Jo’s feelings in a non-verbal way. It helped Jo feel safe.
“Ok. I get it. Is there any part of your body that needs more attention than the others?” Jo almost snorted out a laugh because her immediate response would have been “my pussy”, but she stopped herself before blurting out something that would surely embarass her.
“Ummm… yeah, actually. Weirdly, my thighs and hips, and my… ummm…”, Jo didn’t know how to tell Beatrice that her ass needed a good rub down, but luckily she didn’t have to.
“Your glutes,” Beatrice said without an ounce of embarassment. She was a healer. She knew exactly what Jo needed.
“Yeah. Exactly,” Jo said as she avoided Beatrice’s gaze.
“Hey. There’s no shame here. We hold a tonne of tension in our behind, hips and thighs. And depression brings out all the aches and pains. Don’t worry about a thing. You just get undressed and slip under the covers and I will take care of the rest. Your job is to relax.” Beatrice touched Jo’s knee and smiled, “I will knock on the door in a couple of minutes.”
Beatrice stood up and tip-toed out of the room in silence. Jo sat there for a moment before she started to peel off her clothes and her worries. She caught her reflection in the mirror near the curtained window and admired the delicate way her waist tapered inward then flared out at her hips. She always had a shapely hourglass figure, which she appreciated, even in moments of self-hate which seemed to be in the majority as of late.
Jo tore her eyes away from her mirror image and crawled under the crisp white sheet on the massage bed. She decided to go completely nude, not even her thong. She just wanted to be naked, unseparated from herself in every way. She couldn’t explain it, but it was just what she felt she needed. She lay face down, and rested her head on the donut-shaped pillow and closed her eyes.
After several minutes, Jo heard a light knock at the door. “Come in,” she replied lightly. The opening and closing of the door was bearly audible. Beatrice padded into the room and stood right at Jo’s head. She could feel her therapist’s deep, controlled breathing; she was turning the energy in the room over, transmuting it into calmness. Jo felt wrapped in it, like a hot dog in a bun of tranquility. She smiled as Beatrice’s hands came into contact with her shoulders. She kept her hands there for a few moments, just breathing. Then she slowly turned the blanket down all the way to Jo’s behind. She pumped some aromatherapy oil onto her hands, and began to slowly knead Jo’s shoulder muscles, her neck, behind her ears, her scalp. Jo sunk her head further into the donut pillow, feeling a sense of pure relaxation wash over her.
Beatrice worked Jo’s knotted shoulders and neck for a little while, and slowly started to move down the length of her back, focusing on the muscles surrounding her spine. Jo was on the edge of drifting off but jolted back to wakefulness when Beatrice’s hands made their way to her glutes. Beatrice pumped more oil into her hands and started to massage her client’s lower back and her fleshy behind, very slowly and carefully. She used her thumbs to unearth the gnarly knots, and untangled them with her nimble healing hands.
“How is the pressure?”, she asked in a low voice. “You can go harder. I have a lot of tension,” Jo replied, surprised at her assertion; she normally would have said that everything was fine even if it wasn’t. But Beatrice somehow invited Jo’s authenticity.
Beatrice deepened the pressure of her hands, moulding and kneading Jo’s lifeworn muscles. Jo exhaled audibly.
“Everything ok?” Beatrice whispered. “More than ok…” Jo replied. Beatrice moved around the bed to Jo’s legs and worked up and down the length of them, from her glutes to the back of her knees. Every time Beatrice’s hands reached her inner thighs, Jo would stop breathing. Beatrice’s magical fingers almost grazed her swollen pussy lips, and Jo felt herself flood with arousal. She wondered if Beatrice could sense how turned on she was… and hoped she didn’t. Or maybe she did want her to know. She was feeling a little lightheaded regardless. But Beatrice kept at that particular manoeuver, over and over, getting closer and closer to Jo’s most intimate parts, and each time her fingers approached that area, she would almost gasp from the pleasure. If Beatrice kept doing that, Jo might climax right there on the table, and she doubted that she would be able to hide it. But she just let go of her fears and allowed her depression-worn body feel sensation and pleasure when for weeks, months even, she felt nothing but numbness.
She felt her orgasm building from the manipulation of the electrified flesh of her inner thighs and buttocks. She let it steamroll her and exhaled with her entire body as she released all of that toxic tension that she had been sequestering within herself. Beatrice rubbed down her legs and let her hands rest on Jo’s feet before finally disengaging contact for the first time in the whole hour. It was like she knew that Beatrice had found the release and relief her body and soul were craving.
“You can start waking up. Take your time. I will be waiting right outside for you.” Beatrice whispered into her ear, making every hair follicle on her body perk up.
“Mmm hmmm” Jo mumbled in response. A few moments after hearing the door close, she slithered off the table. Her body felt tenderized and… oddly effervescent. She was tingling all over. It felt wonderful. She smiled to herself. She chugged an entire bottle of water, and pulled on her tights and top, throwing her bra into her handbag.
Beatrice beamed at her as she opened the door. “How do you feel?”, she asked.
“Better than I have in a very long time,” was all Jo said as Beatrice lead them back down the hallway.
“Perfect. My job here is done,” she replied with a chuckle. “I will show you to your bath.” Jo felt excitement for the first time in months. She loved the isolation bath, with its silky epsom salt brine, the dark, the silence. It was the best end to the experience. She knew it wasn’t a cure-all and that the path back to wellness would be lengthy, but it was a start, and she could feel herself again.