Healing Hands

By Mica Le Fox

When Katrina is gifted a therapeutic massage with a young masseuse, not only does it ease her aching muscles, but the sensual feeling of another woman’s hands on her body has the effect of awakening long repressed desires from deep inside her. Beautiful masseuse, Corrie, cannot help but notice Kat’s arousal and reassures her she shouldn’t worry, that it is common during massages and is simply the effect of her body relaxing and sometimes arousal follows. She asks if Katrina would like her to provide intimate relief but Kat is acutely embarrassed and brings the session to an end.

What Corrie doesn’t know is that Kat is a church minister and the massage is the first of a three-session therapy bought for her by the parish committee, a kind and loyal appreciation of her tireless efforts to battle for the welfare of her flock - a masseuse, rather than a masseur, deliberately chosen for Pastor Katrina’s comfort.

In reality, it is anything but comfortable as, since her training for the ministry began five years ago, Katrina has sidelined her body’s natural yearning for the soft touch of another woman – her church would not accept a lesbian into its ministry and her committee are very keen to see her settled and contented with ‘a nice young man’. But during the massage, Kat is reminded that her body has something very different in mind and now she knows that Corrie is not just a qualified masseuse, but a sex-worker. Provided by the church committee. Really?

She throws herself back into her work and decides not to take the second massage, but her thoughts are invaded by the young masseuse and as the date approaches, Corrie contacts her to ask if she should come... and Katrina says, yes.

Healing Hands is a modern lesbian love story with intimate and erotic descriptions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mica Le Fox
• Release date: Apr 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005675141

Mica Le Fox

Totally out of my depth at an academic school I mercifully discovered I could draw and blagged my way into a career in advertising and visual arts. So far, so not too bad. It's been OK, but writing has been part of my remit and I've always itched to do more, so here I am, blagging my way into book writing. It's all fiction. Fiction is often way better than real life and I spend most of my time thinking things up. But I will never try to make you accept the completely unbelievable. If you watch, say, science fiction on TV, it's alright to 'suspend your disbelief' - I do - but not to accept the unbelievable. I hope my books will introduce to you human characters (mostly) with ordinary human emotions and fallibilities. I especially like fallibilities... they are the most interesting thing about us all and certainly the best to write about. I want you to have a booky window on people sometimes making mistakes... maybe sometimes getting it right as well. And I will try to make you feel what they do, you know, like you are in their shoes... well, unless they're undressed of course. Whether I do all this well is another matter, I only write these stories so I have no idea. Anyway, it's for you to decide. Buy the books and let me know. Ha! Blagging again.

Book preview

Healing Hands

By Mica Le Fox

Copyright 2022 Mica Le Fox

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter one

Hi, I’m Corrie.

A girl, maybe of a similar age to herself, stood on the step with a large canvas bag over her shoulder.

Yes, hello. Come in. Kat gave a slight smile... and Corrie gave her a second look as she stepped in.

Am I too early?

No, no, it’s OK. Come through.

She led the way to a living area which was dowdy and in need of redecoration, but that was pretty standard in manse houses everywhere these days.

Can I take your coat?

Kat hung Corrie’s coat over the back of a dining chair and turned back to her. Uhm, would you like a drink? Tea... coffee?

Corrie smiled reassuringly. No thanks. Perhaps we should get started?

Yes... I suppose we should. Was there a slight reluctance in Katrina’s tone?

Corrie looked around the room. Where should I...?

Kat hesitated. I don’t know... what would you suggest? The floor? The sofa?

Well, at my studio, I have a proper therapy bed, but normally if I go to a client, it works best on their own bed... if you are OK with that?

Oh! well, OK. Kat seemed unsure. That would mean she would allow someone she didn’t know into her bedroom, someone who would probably touch her intimately, she thought, while undressed. Her instincts railed against this. All of this.

Corrie looked at her for a second or two, sensing her uneasiness. Look, Ms Brookes, please don’t worry about it. I can work with you on the floor. It’s only that it helps me for you to be higher, that’s all.

Kat nodded, feeling gauche and embarrassed. Yes, of course. I can see that. The bedroom is through here.

She led Corrie through. You can, um, tell I’ve never done this before, can’t you?

Yes, I know it can be a bit embarrassing first time, but you’ll soon get used to it and I hope I can make it worth it.

Corrie put her bag on the chair in the corner of the bedroom, then turned to Katrina. I’ll need to put a cover on the bed... because of the oil. Perhaps while I do that you could undress?

How... should I undress? Kat furrowed her brows. "Heavens, that sounded ridiculous. I meant, how much... should I undress?"

The masseuse smiled. It’s up to you. It would be better if you took all your clothes off, but you can leave your panties on if you want. I’ll ask if you want to remove them later if we get to that. Depends where I work on of course.

Completely naked? No. Oh no. I don’t think the parish will quite want us to be that au naturelle.

Kat disappeared into the bathroom to return a couple of minutes later in a towelling robe. She was nervous. Yes, it was about being almost naked in front of another woman, but she tried to think of it as akin to being undressed in front of a woman doctor... after all this was a therapy, wasn’t it? 'Massage-to-You' was advertised as providing only ‘fully-qualified masseurs or masseuses’ and ‘a great way to relieve the aches and pains of work or sports related activity... or simply to combat the general wear and tear of everyday life’.

All three of those applied to her. Her working days as a pastor of the local Methodist church were long and very active, charging around the parish to visit elderly members in their homes, sitting with very sick patients in hospital wards, perhaps organising fetes - plus she seemed to spend most weekends participating in fundraising walks or other charitable sports activities. And just recently she seemed unable to have two consecutive nights’ unbroken sleep due to some form of parishioners’ emergency. Sometimes it seemed like she was on call for anything and everything, not just matters religious, even to go out looking for an escaped dog at two in the morning. But on the other hand, she drew great pleasure from being integral to the community... needing to be needed perhaps. After a year, she was beginning to feel like a part of things in St Lawrence.

People always assumed that a pastor’s life would be spiritually and emotionally tiring sometimes, but in fact it was, she found, physically exhausting. Not that she was grumbling, Kat wholeheartedly threw herself into the role she had dreamed of for so long, it was just that sometimes things caught up with her.

But the church committee had sensitively acknowledged her non-stop routines and the draining effect it was having on her just now, despite her mere twenty-seven years. It had come up with the idea of massage – perhaps she had secretly hoped for a holiday, but immediately felt a wave of guilt for that unbidden thought. They had dipped into funds to pay for a three-session massage therapy course, one per week, and had scheduled a session to follow each of her three up-and-coming major 'Parish-to-Parish' walks for charity.

Of course, we’ve made sure it will be a masseuse and not a masseur, laughed Roger Draper, head of the committee. After all, we expect to welcome a young man into the fold at some point, but no need to put the temptation of healing hands onto you too soon.

Dear Roger. He'd been a big advocate for her female pastorship and a little risqué quip now and again made him feel the church was charging boldly and liberally into the twenty-first century.

It was a generous and very kind gesture that she appreciated immensely. Her loyal parish committee were showing their thoughtfulness and appreciation of her ministry, and any reticence she was experiencing about the possibly embarrassing proximity of the masseuse was quickly banished.

Kat came to stand by the bed. Corrie had removed the quilt and covered the sheet with a disposable white over-sheet. She had also placed some small thermos flasks on the chest of drawers. Glancing up at Katrina, she smiled. A beautiful, natural smile thought Kat, in spite of the awkwardness of the situation. OK, Ms Brookes, I’m going to start with your head and neck, so can you lie on your back with your head on this. She indicated a neck rest placed so that her head would extend over the end of the bed.

Kat took off her robe and climbed onto the bed to rest in position as Corrie had asked, naked except for her panties, with a towel over her chest.

Corrie positioned herself at the end of the bed, above her head. Opening the first of her flasks, she poured some warm liquid into her cupped palm and drew a line of even pressure with her hand from Kat’s neck to her temple, then with more oil in her left hand repeated the line on both sides of her head at the same time.

Hmm, you are looking tired.

Katrina opened her eyes. Oh?

The masseuse smiled down at her. Around your eyes and your skin has perhaps lost a bit of its lustre.

Well, I suppose my modelling days are over then, Kat joked.

Oh! I didn’t mean you’re not attractive. Corrie began another pass over her face. You are very pretty, but you have some bruising around the eyes and it shows you’re maybe a bit stressed and could do with more sleep.

Kat didn’t reply. It had been a long time since a girl had made a pass at her. At least, that’s what she thought it was. It was wrapped in a professional opinion about her lifestyle which softened the feel of it, but it did sound a bit flirty.

I hope I can do something about it. Corrie’s hands ran across her cheek bones.

Do not feel pleasure, Katrina Brookes. Kat was in the habit of giving herself pep talks when under pressure. You can no longer afford the luxury of another woman’s attraction to you... if that is what it is. It probably isn’t and the masseuse is just doing her job, giving her advice and chatting you up a bit, kind of like getting asked about your holidays at the hairdressers. Just enjoy the massage and thank the church committee.

But by the time Corrie had worked her way around her face and then her skull, Kat’s anxiety was beginning to dissipate and the final shock to the skin of a cold, fresh menthol rinse left her looking forward to more.

How am I doing?

Kat opened her eyes and looked up into the clear brown of Corrie’s eyes above her – upside down, like looking at the dentist.

Mmm, it’s nice. She wasn’t quite ready to be effusive yet.

OK, well, good. I’m going to do your neck and shoulders. Try to relax, you’ll enjoy it more.

The combination of warm, scented oils and Corrie’s obviously expert hands continued to work magic on Kat and she did begin to relax, silently thanking Roger for arranging something she would never have done in a million years.

Corrie asked her to turn onto her front and massaged her back for about ten minutes, using the heels of her hands in long rhythmic strokes, concentrating for a while on her shoulder blades, working down to the glutius muscles at the top of her buttocks. Moving herself back along to the end of the bed, she began to work on her legs and as she massaged higher, Kat began to feel a warm wash of pleasure soak through her. She closed her eyes and for a few minutes gave herself unthinkingly to the almost forgotten pleasure of a woman’s hands upon her body. It was that precious moment when relaxation met sensuality... she remembered it so fondly, like when your partner was washing your back in the bath.

Finally, realisation crept over her. Yes, there was no doubt about it now... she was becoming aroused. It was not a shock. She had known for many years that her sexual preference was for women and she’d kept that strictly in check since her training for the ministry had begun five years previously. No, it was more like the feeling of being caught with a pornographic magazine tucked into a religious text.

Oh! Lord, no. Don’t do this now, treacherous body.

There was nothing overtly sexual about what the masseuse was doing. Corrie was keeping well clear of any intimate areas, but it was just the feel of her hands on her legs and the mere thought of the proximity to her intimate areas that made it so sensual. Corrie’s beauty and skilful hands were providing the spark and Kat’s mind was making the spark jump the gap to intimacy.

Turn onto your back, please.

Not sure I can, she thought. Yes, you must. Let’s keep this looking normal, like I have regular massages... like I do this all the time and you’re not the most attractive girl I’ve seen in quite some time.

Corrie was very pretty. With deep, light brown eyes, a short, straight nose and a full mouth she was very feminine and exactly what Katrina would have been drawn to in a different time. Her type. Kat herself wasn’t unfeminine, her features a little sharper and foxier than Corrie, but with thick, dark eyebrows and a strong face she did have a slight masculinity about her. Added to that, she usually possessed a subtle assertiveness. She could hold an audience with her personality and authority... although that seemed to have failed her right now.

She turned over, keeping the towel over her chest. Corrie oiled her hands from flask number one and slid them firmly but carefully up her belly to her ribs, stopping short at the towel covering her chest. Kat’s mind, now on high alert, again made its perfidious leap of imagination and could almost feel Corrie’s hands on her breasts, gently squeezing, caressing, an insistent motion of her thumb making the nipple stand out.

Stop. This will end badly. She thought about praying but decided that would be gratuitous and frivolous use of God’s time and this was a matter for her own logical thinking and strength of will.

Her eyes were tightly closed, as if they were actually windows to her mind that she could draw the curtains across and shut out her illicit thoughts - and she was concentrating on keeping herself on an even keel when she felt Corrie’s hands come to a stop on her belly. After a second or two she opened her