Angels Landing Katies Pov Ch 02

This story is told from Katie's point of view. It is being adapted from an on going roleplay that we have been wring now for over 3 months. For the other side of this experience--told through Jacky's eyes--check out "Angel's Landing (Jacky's POV)" by Jackhawk. We're writing from opposite ends of the same story, so be sure to follow both to experience it all!

I introduce a new character, giving him a voice via his name in parentheses (Antonio). Many more characters will be introduced throughout this series...

Chapter 2 KATIE'S FIRST EVALUATION (Katie's POV)

Jacky kisses my cheek like he already owns me. Like he's staking his claim.

"I'll see you both this evening," he murmurs, low and warm, his lips brushing just beneath my temple. "Good luck, Lil Katie."

God. The way he says it—like I belong to him. Then he turns to Julia—cool, commanding Julia—and kisses her cheek too.

"I'm counting on you to get this right, sugar... This one has promise. Test her hard." And just like that, he's gone.

I'm left standing in his wake, the echo of his footsteps still ringing in my ears, his scent clinging to my skin like heat after a kiss.

Julia breathes in slowly, like she needs a moment. Then she smiles—tight-lipped, amused, assessing.

"How about we stroll a bit, Katie? This is the headquarters of Angel's Landing," she begins as we walk, her voice smooth and practiced. "An international company with diverse holdings. We specialize in adult entertainment... in many forms."

Her eyes flick to mine, just enough to let the word adult hang there, heavy and deliberate.

I swallow. "Okay."

"To our left," she says, gesturing, "you'll find our mall. You can get anything you need in the shops. Behind those double doors is the executive suite—Jacky's office, mine, the studios. But first, we've got a little indulgence planned for you."

Her gaze slides down the length of me like a slow touch.

"Have you ever had a real massage?"

"Once,"

I lie. The one time, in a strip mall—cheap oil, scratchy towels, a guy who didn't meet my eye.

As we walk, I catch my reflection in a glass panel. My hair still wild from the ocean breeze.

"I've never been in a place like this," I whispered, just to fill the silence.

The marble beneath my sandals looks impossibly expensive. Glass walls reach for the sky like ambition made solid. Everything gleams. Everything smells rich. Every inch of Angel's Landing is polished, perfect. and a dream. You know you shouldn't trust but can't look away from and they're watching me.

Whispers trail in my wake like smoke. Eyes linger—men and women both. I feel them skimming over my skin, pausing on my lips, my legs. I try to keep my posture tall, my face calm, but my body betrays me. I'm buzzing, flush and alive in a way that feels dangerous.

I'm the new girl, fresh meat.

Julia walks beside me like a queen touring her kingdom, every inch of her wrapped in designer silk and effortless confidence.

Men practically trip over themselves to say hello to her—some with reverence, others with hunger. And the women? They eye her with a cocktail of envy and desire. She acknowledges them all with subtle nods and slow smiles, holding court with a grace that borders on lethal.

I watch her. I study her. I want to know how it feels to be that powerful.

Then the spa doors open, and all thoughts dissolve.

It's like stepping into Eden—humid, green, and pulsing with soft sounds: birdsong, the hush of water, some melodic music that melts over your skin. The air is thick with citrus and something deeper, something heady and sweet.

The gorgeous female attendant, her name tag reads "Jill", is more than just polite, guiding us into the locker room, assigning me a locker...which contains a robe and the white slip on sandals.

Julia smiles and nods...the attendant leaves...but not before locking eyes with me and offering a saucy smirk!

"Drop your clothes on the floor. You won't be needing those anymore."

Then Julia undresses...Holy fuck.

She peels her skirt off, revealing legs that go on forever. Her blouse slips from her shoulders revealing the most perfect breasts I've ever seen. Round and high, a full C at least, glistening just slightly under the spa lights. Her body is a study in symmetry and sin, toned stomach, hips that sway like sex itself, and an ass that makes my mouth go dry.

I've never thought of women that way before, but Julia isn't a woman, she's an experience.

Julia glances back once, a grin tugging at her lips as she walks toward the steam. The door to the showers swings open, swallowing her in mist.

Kicking off my sandals, dropping my jean shorts to the floor, the oversized men's dress shirt I've worn for days hesitates in my grip—my last bit of armor, but I let it go.

Now it's just me and my plain white panties, sliding them down slowly. There's something ceremonial about it, intimate and exposing.

Naked, flushed and trembling, I haven't put the robe on, I'm too filthy for it. I can feel the beach still clinging to me—salt crusted on my skin, sand caught in places I don't want to think about.

The robe is soft, pristine, white, it doesn't belong on me. Not until I'm clean. I walk slowly, my breath loud in my ears. Reaching the edge of the showers, hanging the robe on a hook.

Walking into the shower, I see her.

Julia stands beneath a rainfall shower, head tilted back, water cascading over her. Her skin gleams. Droplets trail between her breasts, snake over her hips. Her lips are parted slightly, breath slow and even, like she's letting the heat seduce her.

Julia turns slightly, head tilted, lips curled. "Where did Jacky find you?"

I shrug, suddenly feeling a little exposed in more ways than one. "He found me on the beach." I said, vague on purpose. "Just saw me stumbling on the beach. I mean sitting on the beach, I like to just hang out there and think. It is really peaceful."

Not sleeping there. Not hiding from everything I ran from.

"He's...nice," I add, softening my voice. Watching her eyes. I try to read her as much as she is reading me. Trying to take the focus off me I ask " Where did you guys meet?"

She purrs, "I've known Jacky for five years. We met the first time while I was a senior in college. I was a sponsored contestant in a spring break wet T-shirt contest...which I actually won"

She laughs at the memory, then leans back into the water.

"I was offered a scholarship to stay in school and complete a masters degree...but Jacky made me an offer I couldn't refuse. I've been here hard at work ever since."

She turns, water cascades down her stomach, catching in the smooth dip between her legs before dripping off.

I swallow, trying not to stare, imagining Jacky's mouth where those beads of water just were. Or even yet, trying not to imagine my mouth where those beads of water just were.

In a low voice I ask "Did he tell you what I'd be doing here?" Julia's smile fades into something softer, "Has he told you what Angel's Landing really is?"

Shaking my head, my eyes not leaving hers. "Not exactly. Just that he could help me. That there was a place for me here. A way to... take care of myself."

The water hits my skin in a hot, steady stream, it rolls down my back in sheets, the tension in my shoulders melting away.

Tilting my head, letting the water soak my hair, strands clinging to my neck and collarbones, heavy and wet. This isn't a beach rinse-off. It isn't a gas station sink.

This is heat, pressure, steam, this is luxury.

My fingers work the thick, fragrant shampoo from the wall dispenser through my hair. The scent is soft and expensive—something floral, something spicy. I take my time rinsing it out, fingertips massaging my scalp, breathing deep.

I try to pretend I'm not aware of Julia, her body moving just beyond the mist. But I am. God, I am. Every shift of her weight, every splash of water on her skin—it's like a low hum just under my skin.

I reach for the body wash, lathering it between my palms until it's a silky foam. I smooth it over my arms, my shoulders, down the curve of my breasts, over the dip of my waist. My skin tingles beneath my own touch—maybe it's the heat... or maybe it's not.

Water glides over my stomach, slipping between my thighs, a shiver runs through me. I shouldn't think of Julia like this, but this place, this moment, her silhouette through the steam... it's doing something to me.

Her ass catches the light in just the right way, and I feel my thighs press together instinctively. Biting my lip and turning back to the wall, not wanting to lose myself completely.

My fingers slow over my hips, the insides of my thighs. I should feel embarrassed, but the steam softens everything.

Julia's voice startles me even though it is calm, casual. "You missed a spot," her hand is in my hair lightly stroking the suds away, her touch lingers. Her fingers drift down my cheek, over my neck, and then—oh god—her knuckles trace over my nipple, a soft flick that makes it pebble instantly, hard and aching.

"You really are incredibly beautiful, Katie," she murmurs, her voice curling around my name like warm honey. "Now that the grime's gone... I can see exactly what Jacky sees."

I can't find my voice. All I can do is stare at her, skin flushed, heart hammering in my chest like I've never been touched before.

She leans in closer, lips just a breath from my ear. "I think you are going to enjoy the next item on today's agenda!...A full body massage!"

I finally manage to speak, voice thick with heat. "That does sound amazing."

Turning toward her fully, not bothering to hide the blush on my cheeks. "Thank you, Julia, for all of this."

She smiles. "You're welcome sweetie...it's my job to make sure you feel at ease...I'm glad to be here for you. Let's get dried off and onto that massage table...I think you are going to like your masseuse...he's incredibly 'talented'!"

Something's changing in me and I'm excited to find out what is next.

The robe is soft, but it can't stop the flutter in my stomach. I follow Julia, floating, trying not to let her see the way my fingers tremble at my sides. I still feel the echo of her touch on my skin... the back of her hand grazing my nipple, the way her eyes lingered like she was sizing me up.

She guides me to the reception area, pointing to a big soft white leather recliner.

"Your masseuse, Antonio, will be out shortly," she purrs, her voice teasing. "Enjoy, sugar."

Her eyes glint like she knows exactly what's coming. Then she's gone, robe swishing behind her as she disappears.

Sitting down slowly, I tuck one leg beneath me, acting like I belong here—like I've had luxury massages before.

That's when he walks in and I forget how to breathe.

Tall and muscular, built like a statue, his shirt hugs every ridge of muscle across his chest and arms. His skin is a golden olive tone, dark hair curls just slightly at the collar and his eyes are warm espresso, intense, and trained directly on me.

"Hello, Miss Katie," he says, low and silky. "My name is Antonio. Would you like to come with me, please?"

I nod, mouth dry, gathering my robe tighter around me like it's armor, though I'm all too aware of how little is actually beneath it. My skin is still warm from the shower, every nerve alive, humming.

He turns, leading me down the hall, hearing moans from the door on the left. Antonio grins and shrugs his shoulders saying..."Sounds like fun!"

What could possibly be going on in there? I mean I know what it sounds like, but surely not?

He opens the door on the opposite side of the hall and I walk in. The room soft, glowing with low light. There's a table in the center, covered in crisp white linen, a small tray of warmed oils beside it. The air smells like sandalwood and orange blossom, rich and heady.

Everything about the room feels like it's been designed to make me relax, the golden lighting, the soft linen, the subtle warmth in the air, but I can't. Not with him standing this close.

He moves with that slow, confident grace that makes you forget to breathe. No rush, no doubt. Just quiet strength and something simmering underneath, something I can't quite name but feel all the way down to my toes.

"Let me assist you, my dear," he says softly, and his voice is like warm honey with just a hint of something darker. "I'll hold your robe while you slip under the cover, lying face down... your head in the hole of the headrest, arms at your sides." He makes a slow circle with his finger in the air, and I know what he's asking, turn around.

Obeying, I turn.

His hands are gentle as they find my shoulders, and I can feel the warmth of them even through the fabric of my robe. My fingers work the knot of the sash slowly, each tug of the belt making my heart thump a little harder.

"It's okay, sweetie," he murmurs behind me, his tone impossibly tender. "Everyone's a bit shy their first time."

I let the robe slip from my shoulders. I feel completely exposed.

Antonio doesn't react—no sharp inhale, no suggestive grin, just silence. He removes the robe with care, folds it neatly, like this is all the most natural thing in the world.

Stepping forward, bare feet silent against the floor, and climbing onto the massage table. The sheet is cool at first, brushing over my skin as I settle on my stomach. My breasts press lightly into the cushion, and my hips shift as I adjust the fabric around me covering myself.

I place my cheek into the cradle of the headrest and exhale.

(Antonio): Her skin is flawless.

As I fold the robe, pretending not to stare, I burn the image into my memory—the soft curve of her waist, the tight arch of her ass as she climbs onto the table. She's nervous, but brave. That kind of combination? Irresistible.

She doesn't know what her body does when she moves like that, or maybe she does.

Stepping forward, sliding the sheet down her back, peeling it away inch by inch, until it rests just above the curve of her ass. She shivers, I can't tell if it's from the exposure, the anticipation, or maybe both.

Warming the oil between my palms. My hands hover just above her back, then... contact.

She moans and it's the most perfect sound I've heard all day.

My thumbs press slowly into her shoulders, deep and deliberate. I feel the tension roll beneath her skin, little knots of stress unraveling under my touch. I work my way down, vertebra by vertebra, fingers tracing the elegant line of her spine.

I stay silent, letting the rhythm of my hands speak for me.

But in my mind, I'm imagining what her moans might sound like when my hands go lower.

(Katie):

His hands meet my skin warm, deliberate, firm. He starts at my shoulders, kneading slow, deep circles that press into muscle and memory, melting me in a way I hadn't expected. I close my eyes. My breathing isn't coming naturally anymore. It's shallow and shaky, matching the pace of his strokes.

"Is the pressure okay, sugar?" he whispers near my ear. His breath is warm on my neck. "Too hard? Too soft?"

Oh god. "Just right," I breathe. "It feels... really good."

I can't see him, but I feel him. His body heat near mine, his voice like silk-wrapped sin. He slides one of my arms out gently, his hand wrapping around my wrist as he shakes it loose, digging into the muscle just enough to make me groan, then the other. His touch is confident, practiced, but not clinical.

The blanket lifts again, this time from my feet. Holding my breath he starts at my soles—his thumbs pressing into the arches of my feet, working up my ankles, calves, and then...

Oh, my thighs, I bite down on my lip hard.

(Antonio):

Her thighs tremble as my hands climb. The oil glistens over her skin, silky smooth beneath my fingers. Her breath quickens. I know that sound. That soft, stifled gasp... it's the kind of sound a woman makes when she's aching and trying not to admit it.

My balls vibrate and my cock screams to get in the game...and I can't blame him! Continuing with some firm deep tissue work, but lightening the pressure, my hands rise higher into her slippery 'V'. I love how she responds.

The heat roils on my fingers...the texture of her folds slick with offerings. My cock throbs, she's soaked, thoughts of how it will feel to be deep inside you... thrusting...the pulse waves...the erotic exchange of our wild lust.

Suddenly realizing how lost I am, I withdraw my hands and dig my balled fists into your lovely cheeks Jacky and his rules!

(Katie):

I'm dizzy with sensation, trembling with need. The heat pooling between my legs is unbearable. I'm panting now, breathy and soft, the sound shameful in how honest it is.

He touches me finding out how wet I already am and I don't care, arching against the table, my hips rising involuntarily. I don't speak, but my body does.

He pulls away.

No, no no—why?

Then his hands dig into the muscle of my ass, knuckles kneading deep. I groan, unable to stop it, my upper body lifting with the force of it. He chuckles softly, and I want to slap him and kiss him all at once.

The sheet rolling down over my feet again, his voice returns, low and coaxing. "Katie, dear... time to turn onto your back."

I barely manage it, my limbs are jelly. I feel him lift the blanket just enough, helping me move. I shift onto my back, eyes still closed, body wrecked. My nipples brush against the sheet, hard and aching.

I open my eyes, finding his already on me.

"You're very good at what you do," I murmur, voice low and breathy.

Shifting again beneath the sheet, subtly trying to ease the ache between my thighs, it doesn't help. Nothing will, not until he touches me again.

He knows. I see it in his smirk, in the way his gaze lingers on my lips like he's already kissed them in his mind. He's won, and we both know it.

Then he slips a mask over my eyes, darkening everything.

"This is so you can take in the whole experience... just through feel, baby." God. The way he says it, my world narrows to sensation and the gravity of my need.

He gives me a moment to adjust, to sink into the blackness. My skin feels hypersensitive, every inch tuned to him. I hear a rustle, sense him moving, and somehow I know he's watching me.

Then I feel him, fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp, my temples, my cheeks... down to my throat. I'm melting, I'm moaning. I've lost track of what's real and what's dream.

And then...

Warmth. Wet, a slick glide down my neck. That's not oil, I know what it is, my whole body tenses, clenches, reacts.

My back arches. My breath is ragged. My fingers claw the blanket beneath me like it's the only thing holding me to this plane of existence.

He's not even inside me—hasn't even kissed me—and yet I'm already teetering on the edge of orgasm from the suggestion of it.

My body is begging. My pride is holding the line.

I don't speak. I don't move. I just feel, and God help me... I never want this moment to end.

His voice snakes around me like silk soaked in heat. "How do you feel, Miss Katie?" My lips part, but nothing comes. Just a shallow, trembling breath.

I feel wrecked.

Not just turned on, not just wet.

Every muscle in my body tightens under the sheet, my thighs squeezing together. I can stop the ache building between them, but I can't. He's too close, his breath is on my skin, his cock tracing a slow, lazy line along my neck, dragging through my curls like it belongs there.

Trying to answer, instead, all I manage is a breathy whisper. "I... I feel good."

Liar, I feel like I'm coming undone.

(Antonio):

I let it fall, just a bead at first, then another. Her body jerks beneath me, and I know she knows. My cock drips again, my pre cum trailing down her neck and through her curls. She trembles.

"That's it my little Katie, let go sugar" I breathe against her ear, "You belong to Antonio now baby!"