"So, you said they used to use this cavern as, like, a dump, right?" I ask Nightwing. She nods and grunts her affirmation, still lying on the bed with her hands behind her head.
After our odd hand-holding session, we each went to different parts of the room. Demetra found a small toolbox, likely left there specifically for her, and immediately removed her arm from her socket - which is still kind of gross - and opened her arm casing and started tinkering with the interior mechanisms. I sat next to her, fascinated by the design.
"But you didn't seem surprised when Trishka said there was a city," I recount, still confused. I immediately turn to disgust as Demetra pulls a clump of what seems to be rotted bark out of a gear mesh, and tosses it aside.
"How'd you deal with that shit being in there?" I ask, confused.
"Never had a chance to get it out," she explains with a sigh. "No clean surfaces to disassemble the arm on - let alone a sterile enough environment for me to remove the arm in the first place. And besides, most of the gears and shit are aesthetic - the functional parts are mostly electronic, and not analog. So in reality, it would usually just be a solid arm of metal, inlaid with synthetic nerves and muscles. But I decided to get a fancy arm commissioned - but I didn't realize that when it rusted, some of it would stop working so well. It's mostly because it interfaces with my nerves, so the rust feels like arthritis." I nod, pretending to have followed along with most of what she said. I'm kind of zoning out, thinkijg
"There always was a city," Nightwing replies, having hesitated to answer. "It's further in. This part is new - very new. It was created as a sort of...front, I guess you could call it. To make any explorers think they had found a terrifying dragon lair, and to keep them from moving further and finding the city." She shakes her head, her newly grown, short hair splayed out on the pillow. "But this city...it's much more...elaborate than the old one."
"Yeah, I'd guessed as much," I respond. I turn to Demetra, and hush my voice. "So, when are we going to talk more about the whole...alien thing?"
Demetra gives me an icy glare. "Never. I said too much as it is. The less you know, the better."
"That's what I thought," I sigh. "But I'm just...having a hard time wrapping my head around it."
"Yeah, aren't we all," she mutters. "Hey, could you hand be that small wrench?"
I hand it to her, and she briefly finagles with a few bolts before returning to the tweezers and pulling out what appears to be grass and...hair. I become nauseous, and push myself away.
"Okay, that's gross," I mutter. She rolls her eyes.
"If you're not gonna help me, you may as well try out the shower," she suggests. "Trust me - you need one."
I sigh. "Okay, fine." I walk to the bathroom, and turn back to Nightwing. "Hey, Nightwing, have you ever taken a shower?"
She looks at me, puzzled. "Of course I have. In waterfalls, in the rain..."
"No, I mean a real shower. With soap."
"No," she replies, curtly.
"Well, why don't you? Also, you should probably learn how to shampoo your hair - I could show you."
"Ohhh, trying to get frisky, Peter?" Demetra teases me. I blush, and Nightwing smiles to herself.
"Sure," Nightwing announces. "Why not."
"O-okay," I stammer, still blushing. Damnit, Demetra...
"You two have fun in there!" Demetra teases us. I try to stammer a rebuttal, but Nightwing speaks for me.
"We'll try - but we make no promises." Demetra chuckles, and I blush furiously as Nightwing brushes past me, into the bathroom. I shut the door behind us, and lock it - just to be sure. I mean, I wouldn't be against Demetra joining us, but...I kinda want to show Nightwing how to shampoo her hair. It's kind of important.
"What are you waiting for?" Nightwing teases me. I turn, and my voice catches in my throat as I see that she is nude. "Undress, slave."
I nod, barely able to speak as I pull of my pants, kick off my shoes (which I forgot I was wearing - I probably tracked dirt all over the room), and pull off my shirt. As I remove my boxers, my half-erect...I don't want to say cock right now, it might arouse me too much. I just want to show her how to shower. So, my half erect...uh...male reproductive organ consisting mostly of blood vessels and elastic muscle. There, that should kill the boner.
I turn on the water, and the boner is resurrected as I feel Nightwing's hands on my shoulders, and her pert nipples brushing lightly across my back. Wow, I am in full anticipation mode.
"So, slave...mind walking me through the process?" Nightwing asks, breathily. I swallow a lump in my throat - she only calls me slave when she wants to fuck...or when she's angry...or when she's making a (bad) joke...wow, she calls me slave quite a lot.
"I don't know if this is appropriate," I point out. "I mean...this is where you used to live, right?"
"I have very few good memories of this place," she responds with a sigh. She falls silent for a moment before pulling away. Guess I killed the mood, which makes me feel...kinda bad, honestly.
"You okay?" I ask, turning to confront her. She simply shrugs.
"Yeah - let's just get in the shower. I'd like to see how to clean myself."
I nod, deciding to drop the topic for now, and pull the curtains aside, revealing an unexpectedly nice shower basin, made of smooth, polished granite, with some small ridges interspersed for friction. Now that I look around, the whole bathroom is nice - a nice toilet, a nice sink, even a nice mirror! It's all very impressive.
I check the temperature of the water, and nod to myself. "Alright, come on in," I announce, after stepping in myself. Nightwing follows suit, and we quickly discover that it is somewhat cramped. There's enough room to move, but no matter where we move, some part of our bodies are touching. Which I am not complaining about - right now, her breasts are pressed softly against my chest. We both blush, and my boner starts to come back. It starts to get steamy, and -
Wait, how is it so steamy so fast? What the - oh.
"Nightwing, I point out, suppressing laughter. "The water is evaporating on your skin."
She checks, and sees that it is, in fact, becoming steamy because of her. "Huh."
"Guess we don't need coal to make a sauna," I tease. She rolls her eyes, and concentrates as she shuts them. After a moment, the water stops evaporating, and begins to fall on her normally.
"I lowered my internal temperature," she points out. "Dragons can do that."
