Foot massage

You drift from the ceiling, your essence now a vibrant, swirling violet as it returns to full strength. You don't manifest a shape; you simply manifest a sensation. At the foot of the bed, you slip your spectral hands beneath the duvet.

Cherie’s entire body jolts when she feels the first squeeze on her left foot. A sharp, terrified gasp hitches in her throat, and she nearly kicks out, but the touch is firm, warm, and impossibly skilled. You sink your thumbs into the arch of her foot, applying a pressure that melts the tension right out of her bones.

“Mack?” she whispers into the dark, her voice a tiny, breathless vibration. She doesn't pull away. After the day she’s had, your touch is the only thing that feels honest. She lets out a long, shuddering exhale, her head sinking back into the pillow as you work the stress out of her ankles, your spectral fingers trailing up her calves with a teasing, electric heat.

You nudge her mind, a soft, telepathic pressure asking for her thoughts on your latest masterpiece—the "Professional Retainer."

Cherie lets out a tiny, hysterical giggle that she has to smother with her hand. “You are a devil,” she breathes, her eyes shimmering in the dark. “I couldn't believe it. Chad... he was so proud of himself. He has no idea he just signed a contract for his own betrayal. I felt sick, Mack... but I also felt like I was glowing. It’s like the more he loses control, the more I find mine. Is that wrong? To want to be 'trained' so badly now that he’s paying for it?”

You don't answer with words; you simply increase the pressure on her soles, sending a wave of drowsy, erotic contentment through her. As her eyelids grow heavy and her breathing slows, joining that of Chad, who sleeps with the smug peace of a man who believe he's bought order.