Devi's Bliss: Bools 1-3

by Mika Lane

  She looked away. “Seriously, Jake. Thank you, but this has not been a fun day. Another time would be so much better.” Pushing herself up by the arms, she managed to get out of her chair to usher the group to the door and out of her apartment.

  “You guys. I am so grateful you were looking out for me. And so sorry I worried you.” She turned to Noelle. “Let’s catch up later?”

  “Just stay out of trouble, okay?” Noelle kissed her on the cheek.

  “Good meeting you, Dalt. Next time I promise to be more presentable.” Smiling, Dakini gestured at the cheetah robe. Turning to Jake, she said, “Thank you for helping. I’ll see you soon.”

  He stepped toward her and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

  That was unexpected.

  As the door closed behind the three of them, she latched the deadbolt. Her smiled quickly disintegrated. The memory of the night before, and humiliation of the morning, buckled her knees and she crumpled to the floor, weeping. She put her hands over her ears and rocked until she was dizzy from hyperventilation.

  Fuck this shit.

  Chapter 2

  As Dalt steered his Tesla toward the Golden Gate Bridge, Jake stared out the window from the back seat. Kite surfers skimmed over the San Francisco Bay and cargo ships headed for the open ocean. The late morning sun was brilliant, a welcome departure from the city’s usual fog. But as stunning as the view was, he couldn’t shake what he’d witnessed that morning at Dakini’s.

  “She had quite the rough night, didn’t she?” Jake said, as they left the city behind.

  “Let’s put it this way,” Noelle said. “Dakini’s been through some shit.”

  Dalt reached from his place in the driver’s seat and stroked Noelle’s hair. She looked toward him with a grateful smile and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  Jake leaned his head back on the car seat and closed his eyes. “Man, that sucks.”

  “She helped me get my job at Devi’s,” Noelle said. “I mean, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. But I’m starting to wonder if our friendship can endure her drinking.”

  “What do you guys do for work?” Jake asked.

  Noelle turned toward the back seat, realizing they knew little about him, too, except that he tended bar at their favorite hangout. “We’re sensual massage therapists at the spa called Devi’s Bliss.”

  “And Noelle’s very good at what she does.” Dalt’s eyes twinkled, and Noelle squeezed his fingers.

  “I know that place. I’ve always wanted to try it out.”

  Noelle said, “You should, it’s a great spa. Totally chill, fantastic service.”

  Jake watched Noelle throw Dalt a sexy little smile. Those Devi’s girls were beauties, no doubt about it.

  “Yeah, dude, give it a try. You’ll never be the same,” Dalt said.

  Nestled in the redwoods just north of San Francisco, Devi’s Bliss was unique. If it was desired, a massage therapist and her client were free to engage in any level of consensual physical intimacy they wanted.

  “Sensual massage incorporates sexual arousal,” Noelle explained. “Through touch, a perfect state of peace relaxation can be reached. ‘Ancient medicine for modern, stressful, times’ is what they say. Whoever ‘they’ are.” She laughed.

  “Sign me up,” Jake said.

  It was curious, the way Noelle and Dalt had turned to him when Dakini turned up missing. He’d had an ongoing flirtation with her, but never really pursued it because she didn’t seem interested in anything more. Did her friends know something he didn’t?

  The Tesla pulled in front of Left Bank, where Noelle and Dalt had picked Jake up a few hours earlier. Pushing the car door open into the late morning breeze, he hopped out and said his goodbyes, considering whether or not to go into the bar for lunch and a beer. When not on the clock, he tried to stay away. It was far too easy for a bartender to have no life other than his work. But what’s the harm in once in a while, right?

  Jake pushed the heavy door open and after his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he spotted his friend, Larry, behind the bar. He pushed through the crowd arriving for an early lunch to take a seat at the empty corner of the bar.

  “Hey, man, what’s up? Thanks for covering for me,” Jake said, shaking Larry’s hand.

  “Dude. You guys find that girl who was missing?” Larry pulled the tap to pour Jake a cold one.

  “Yeah. We found her at home in bed, sleeping off a hangover.”

  “Shit, all that fuss for nothing?”

  “I don’t know if it was nothing.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “Seems like she blacked out and slept through work. But I have a feeling something else is going on. Like there’s more to the story.”

  “You dating her?” Larry asked.

  “No, no I’m not,” Jake said, shaking his head. “But man, she’s freaking gorgeous. Long black hair, nice round ass. Hot as hell. And she’s a masseuse. I’m gonna ask her out, I think.”

  “Nice, dude. Get yourself a rub down. What with the drinking, though?” Larry wiped up the wet ring left on the bar by the beer. “You know, Jake, in our business, we’ve seen it all, and I go running from the heavy drinkers. I’m around too many of them as it is.”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know. But I have a feeling I’m going to find out.” Jake nodded and took another sip of his beer. “I want to find out. There’s something about her eyes. She’s a fighter. I know she’s a fighter.”

  When she arrived at the spa the next morning, having retrieved her Audi convertible from the parking lot of last night’s bar, Dakini’s stomach was a complete twist of worry. She hated her nerves getting the better of her. All the previous night, there’d been tossing and turning in anticipation of the tongue-lashing she suspected Devi, owner and namesake of the spa, would be slapping her with. Dakini hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, and the hunger made her stomach problems about ten times worse.

  Great way to start the day.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the large wooden door to find Devi behind the front desk, as usual. A fellow therapist, Aurora, was helping prepare for the day’s first clients by pouring essential oils into tiny bowls scattered throughout the spa. Candles would later warm the concentrated scents, releasing fragrance molecules into the air that promised to promote relaxation and improve health.

  As Dakini approached the desk, teak floorboards squeaked underfoot and overhead fans created a breeze with their lazy rotations. The narrow leaves of bamboo plantings danced in a subtle indication of the spa’s erotic promise. Despite the peaceful environment, Dakini’s heart pounded so hard in her chest that she feared everyone else would be able to hear it.

  She looked straight at her boss. “May I speak with you, please?”

  Devi raised her head from behind her giant iMac screen and propped her chin on her knuckles. “What can I help you with, Ms. St. Onge?”

  Damn, that was cold.

  Dakini trembled as the knot gripping her stomach twisted just a bit tighter. She rubbed her hand over the bald dome of a well worn stone Buddha on the reception desk, and then gripped its smooth little head so her boss couldn’t see her hand shaking.

  Devi’s tough-love management kept the girls on the straight and narrow—most of the time. None of them could stand to disappoint the momma bear, whose affection for them was deeper than what many get from their own mothers. The spa was Devi’s baby, and the girls were her family.

  “I am so, so sorry for missing work yesterday.” With a pained expression, Dakini laid her hand over her breastbone for emphasis.

  “Mmmm hmmm,” Devi mumbled, seemingly unmoved by the attempt at sincerity. She turned back to her scheduling, tap-tapping on the keyboard with two forefingers, as if Dakini were invisible.

  It was clear that being excused from this wrongdoing was not going to come without some serious groveling. Dakini braced herself to beg to keep her job. “I know you’re mad, Devi, and I don’t blame you. I promise I won’t let it happen again.�
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  Her boss’s eyes focused on something behind her, and Dakini turned to see why. Noelle had just arrived and was standing with Aurora. Neither was bothering to hide their nosy eavesdropping, nor their exchange of smirky glances.

  To hell with them.

  Pulling back her shoulders, Dakini faced her coworkers. “I mean what I said, and you two assholes can roll your eyes all you want.” She stormed down the hallway toward the staff room.

  Noelle caught up to Dakini, and the staff room door swung shut behind them both. Dakini threw her things in her locker, muttering under her breath as Noelle watched her.

  Ignoring her friend, Dakini donned the short white kimono robe worn by all Devi’s girls and slammed her locker door extra hard, shaking the wall. She’d get her act together. Alone. Screw those doubters. She didn’t need them, any of them. Some people had everything so easy, every day of their lives. But not her. Life had been an unending uphill slog since the day she was born wearing an umbilical cord wrapped around her little neck. It was all good, though. She’d faced worse. She could get this drinking thing under control. Easy.

  Noelle grabbed herself a robe and plunked down on one of the room’s slatted wooden benches. “Hey, I’m sorry we hurt your feelings back there. We didn’t mean to. You know everyone here has your back, Daki. Especially me.” She reached to put her hand on Dakini’s arm.

  “Yeah. Whatever.” Humiliation poured over her in one giant tidal wave, and her voice choked with tears.

  Dakini continued. “The other night was a bad one, Noelle.” She hung her head, avoiding her friend’s eyes. “I could have gotten hurt. Really hurt.” She trembled as the spotty memory of multiple drinks, boisterous voices, and the touch of random hands flashed through her mind like a strobe light. The missing pieces might never be found. And that was probably for the best.

  “I know, Daki. I know it was rough. That’s obvious. I didn’t want to ask in front of the guys at your apartment, but did anything happen? Anything bad?”

  “You mean like that other time?” Dakini choked on a sob as she recalled the worst night of all, the one that precipitated the drinking that was supposed to make her forget. The drinking that just ended up backfiring on her. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

  She’d been in college. Had a couple drinks. Then a couple more. And she’d awakened in the bushes a few blocks down the street from her dorm. Alone. In the dark. Partially undressed. And bleeding. That night was the end of something and the beginning of something—all at the same time. She’d graduated early to get the hell out of there, to leave it behind, to forget. But life was funny that way. The faster she ran from it, the faster it chased her down.

  “Thank goodness.” Noelle embraced her friend and then pulled back to look at her. She pushed some hair off Dakini’s red, puffy face. “We’re gonna get through this together, okay? You’re not alone. You hear me?”

  “I know. I know. Thank you, Noelle.” She wiped her runny nose and watery eyes. “On top of everything, I feel so bad about forgetting my grandmother.” One last sob escaped her lips.

  “C’mon over here and have a seat.” Noelle led Dakini to the dressing table and sat her friend before a large vanity mirror. “I’m gonna put a cool washcloth on your face. You’ll feel much better.”

  Noelle bent, placing a kiss on her friend’s cheek. “I’m with you, Daki. I’m not leaving your side. I will help you through this. Now, let’s get you all fixed up. You have a client in a few minutes.” She brushed out Dakini’s long black hair and twisted it into a braid, and passed her a pale pink lip gloss for some color.

  They’d had talks before, just like this one. Every time Dakini thought it would be the last. But it never was.

  “Daki, please let this be the end of these conversations. Do it for me, yourself, the people who love you. Do it to keep your friends and to keep your job. Do it to show the bad guys they don’t matter.”

  Chapter 3

  Now three minutes late, Dakini opened the door to the Heart Chakra room a little at a time to keep its creaky hinges from disturbing her client. Entering, she kicked her flipflops to the corner, reassured by the coarse tatami mats under her toes. They were rough and hard and sometimes gave her splinters, but their abrasive texture offered something to ground into when she needed it.

  “Good morning, Mr. A,” Dakini said, using the code name designed to protect client privacy. “Thank you for coming to see me.” His clothes were piled in a corner on top of some black boots.

  Guess he missed the locker.

  She pulled her massage supplies from a cabinet, placing them on a sideboard arranged with a statue of the Hindu deity Ganesha, several flickering votive candles, and a tall orchid exploding in pink and white blooms.

  Mr. A mumbled contentedly from the massage table and shifted to get more comfortable. Lying on his belly, his face was nestled into the massage cradle, a white sheet covering him from shoulders to feet. All Dakini could see was a mop of messy dark hair. That, and a nice, shapely ass under the sheet.

  “Mr. A, how are you feeling today?”

  “Mmmm, fine,” he murmured.

  The quiet type. Perfect. She was no mood to make small talk and was looking forward to losing herself in delivering a ninety-minute rubdown. Silence equaled focus.

  Outside the sheet, Dakini placed her hands on Mr. A’s muscular back, making long, sweeping strokes back and forth—her usual warm up before progressing to a client’s bare skin. Her body swayed to leverage her weight and to adjust the intensity of her touch. Her mind gradually shifted into a new space, one that was clean and clear and allowed her to concentrate on the task at hand, like a moving meditation. It was no surprise that with her mind free of tribulations, the image of that very handsome bartender from Left Bank, Jake, sneaked back into her thoughts.

  Her gaze floated down to Mr. A’s sheet-covered ass, a mountain of muscular flawlessness. A familiar twinge jumped deep in her sex as she delicately rolled down the sheet and introduced her hands to his warm bare skin, shifting the massage from low gear to medium.

  He was covered in expensive-looking tattoos, some of which looked familiar. But she saw so many tattoos, they all blurred together in her mind. With her hands momentarily focused on one spot, she looked past Mr. A’s narrow waist to an exposed inch of his adorable ass crack.

  She worked her way up, and he drew a deep breath as she hit on a sore spot under his shoulder blade. He squirmed to evade the discomfort, but she just dug her fingers deeper before tapering off the pressure. Leaving a hand squarely in contact with his skin, she reached with her other hand for a large massage rock from the heated water and placed it on his lower back. The small amount of warm weight would be a heavenly delight.

  Removing her hands from him, she rubbed warm massage oil into her hands, and transferred it to Mr. A’s strapping back until it shimmered in the candlelight. Using all the weight she could transfer to her arms, she leaned into his tight muscles to intensify the effect of her compression, lingering on bits of knotted muscle. She removed the still-warm stone from his lower back and returned it to the water. There was a small red mark where the stone’s heat had boosted his circulation. She blew on it lightly and his skin bloomed with goosebumps.

  “Mr. A?”

  “Mmmm.”

  “I’d like to climb up on the table now. Is that okay?”

  “Mmmm.”

  Dakini hopped up, swinging one leg over Mr. A’s ass as if mounting a horse. Each client, and therefore each massage, was different from the last. She followed no set routine. It was always better to pay close attention to her clients’ response to different touches and fine-tune her approach from there. And it worked—she had more repeat clients than any of the other girls at Devi’s.

  Alternating between fingertips and knuckles, she made circular motions on his shoulders and neck, rotating her wrists to vary the pressure. Since she’d mounted him, her panty-covered crotch inadvertently slid back and forth over his muscular ass.
A delicious friction built in her core.

  A nice benefit of the work.

  Sliding her hands up his neck, Dakini reached into Mr. A’s hair and worked the oil from roots to tips, making light scratches on his scalp with her nails. Responding with a quiet moan, he pressed his head up and into her hands to intensify the pressure, reminding her of a dog she once had who’d done the same. Clever creatures, instructing her where to scratch next. One of the many things men have in common with dogs…

  Mr. A shifted under Dakini’s weight as she continued to work his scalp. There was something magical about the sensitivity of the head, and every time he sighed, she lingered a bit longer to prolong his pleasure.

  He shifted again, and Dakini leaned forward to transfer her weight to her knees. Lifting her ass up, she gave him space to readjust under her. He was no doubt relieving pressure on an otherwise squashed erection, confirmed by his repeated grinding into the table. She loved this part of the massage, where she had the power to create the ultimate pleasure. Perhaps the best part was, the more her client was turned on, the more excited she was. Certainly not hot for every client who came in, she nevertheless believed they all deserved to feel special. And on the rare occasion when someone like Mr. A came in…well that was just icing on the cake.

  Rocking her hips into him, she clenched fistfuls of his hair as her own excitement built. Mr. A’s breathing rasped while his hands gripped the sides of the massage table. His ass rose an inch to press right into her swelling clit.

  This man knows exactly what he is doing…

  His sounds grew with unintelligible mumbling, and he continued to fuck the massage table, driving his ass up against the wet center of Dakini’s panties. Sliding his hands, he reached for her thighs behind him and gripped, pressing until his knuckles turned white. Her flesh was left deeply indented.

  Beautiful.

  Losing control, he shouted his explosion of physical fury. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

  The grip he had on Dakini’s legs relaxed, leaving behind bright red marks where his fingers had been. He continued humping the table and shuddered, his groans otherworldly and harsh.