The Apprentice

Codi steps inside the parlor on bare feet, nervous heat blooming across her skin. “I’ve never had a full massage,” she admits, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Rayveness smiles, walks her through each part, the way she’ll move from shoulders to hips to thighs and back again. Once the explanation is done, Codi strips every last thing, climbs onto the table face-down, and waits. Heat hangs in the room. Rayveness glides back in carrying warm oil. She traces the edges of the table with her gaze, taking in how soft Codi looks stretched out. “I love this work,” she says, palms already slick, “because I get to touch naked bodies. Yours, for instance.” She hears the small catch in Codi’s breath and the corner of her mouth lifts. “We also have an opening for new hands if you’re interested.” Her fingers press firm circles at Codi’s lower back; the talk of massage and skin slides lower, finding where Codi’s muscles melt. Oil glistens along the rise of her ass, then lower still until slick pads slip between soft lips already parted and wanting. Codi’s thighs tremble once, twice, hips rocking into the rhythm Rayveness offers. With small slaps and practiced strokes she pushes the girl past every line she thought private, until she hears a gasping cry and feels a sudden warm rush that beads at her own wrist. Satisfied, she kisses the shell of Codi’s ear and whispers, “Class starts tomorrow.”