"I'll be right out!" she called. "Just gotta wash up."
The bottle on the back of the sink read "Sleep." She picked it up as if she'd never seen it before, though she knew it had a twin in the shower, that she'd had them both since before the country went into lockdown. Still ... it drew her eye.
Bath and Body Works body wash, lavender and cedarwood. She read the smaller print. "Lavender Essential Oil inspires tranquility. Cedarwood Essential Oil helps calm the mind."
She nodded, her mind already feeling calm, feeling, in fact ... a little sluggish. Her gaze kept being drawn back to that one word. "Sleep."
She turned on the hot water, took a dab of soap on her fingers, and began counting quietly to 20 seconds. But a little rhyme, completely unknown yet completely familiar, came to her, and she spoke aloud as she scrubbed.
*One, two, three, four
Wash each finger, then four more
Five, six, seven, eight
Then you're allowed to masturbate
Tease the skin, circle the thumb,
Scrub the palms until you're dumb
Wash your hands to wash your brains
Till blank obedience is all that remains*
By the end, she found she was watching the girl in the mirror. Watching as her face grew slack and expressionless, as her eyes glazed over. It was arousing, really, she thought as she turned off the tap and dried her hands without breaking eye contact ... it made her tingle, deep inside, seeing how blank and open that girl looked.
She studied her face for a moment, how dumb she looked, how slack her mouth drooped and how vacant her eyes ... Fuck, that got her so hot, though not an inkling of any excitement was showing on the face of the girl in the mirror ...
A shadow fell over the bathroom doorway, from the corner of her eye.
"All clean now, baby?"
She nodded, slowly, her eyes half-lidded. His voice was so deep, so soothing ... so much like the voice in her head when she recited her little hand-washing rhyme.
"Brain nice and washed?"
A slow, drugged smile. "Mmm-hmmm ..."
"Good girl. Why don't you take a shower for me now, so you can feel that good and clean all over ..."
With a contented sigh, she moved away from the sink, and went to the tub, turning on the hot water.
She undressed slowly, languorously, a dreamy look on her face -- touching herself here and there as if for Him, beaming in his direction as she caressed the skin as it was revealed. He nodded, murmured "Good girl," again, and departed.
She dimly registered his soft footsteps departing again, moving toward the bedroom. She hugged her arms tight, then let her fingers dance over her thighs as she stripped off her underpants. (She hadn't worn a bra in days. Why bother, when she wasn't going anywhere?)
She pulled the drain stopper to start the shower and tested the temperature of the spray as she reached for the shower gel. The bottle was calling to her -- "Sleep," it seemed to say -- and her nipples hardened in anticipation, as if excited by an assignation with a lover.
She stepped into the shower, her skin rejoicing in the hot water. Yes! That's exactly how it felt. Meeting a lover. Her whole body was tingling with pleasure, with desire, with need. Her pussy throbbing with its craving for attention. Every molecule of her mind and body knew what was coming, and burned with need for it, aching for that familiar and exciting submission.
She popped open the bottle, and poured some in her hand, started to soap her tummy, her breasts. Put the bottle back, and rubbed more vigorously with both hands, touching herself everywhere. Prolonging the moment when she would finally submit, fully succumb. It was what she craved, but the delay, the anticipation, made it sweeter.
At last she raised one soapy hand to her face. With a gentle, sleepy smile, she inhaled the fragrance. Her mind was instantly eclipsed with sugary darkness, pleasurable scents, swirls of light and feeling behind closed eyelids ... She was all feeling now, emotions without thinking and sensually aroused senses with meaning ... and she descended gratefully into erotic, thoughtless, senselessness.
"Sleep."
Time passed, and her body grew warm, and clean, she felt reborn ... her fingers grew pruney, and the scent faded eventually, and she blinked. The shower curtain was moved gently, and He was there, but her distracted brain had trouble focusing on him, this blurred shape of masculinity with the syrupy smooth voice ...
"Don't forget to wash your hair, sugar," he rumbled, handing her the shampoo.
Oh yes! How delightful, to have them both in one day ... the other gift He had given her, to relieve her anxiety ... the shampoo of Warm Vanilla Sugar, the same scent as her favorite hand sanitizer, which always calmed her whenever she used it. He'd seen to that. (What a good man he was!)
He'd spoken to her so gently, so warmly and soothingly one day, as she'd rubbed her hands while they watched the news, and he'd turned off the TV and let her just smell her hands and drift away ... and every time after that, somehow, when she'd used it, that same vagueness of mind and heaviness of limbs had stolen over her, and she'd been able to relax ...
A handful of the shampoo, rubbed between her palms, and brought to her nose, and her thoughts faded away again. Her whole body felt heavy and light at the same time, like it was melting, sodden lumps of sugar that were dripping slowly down the drain ... The very water cascading down around her seemed to smell of warm vanilla, of sugary sweetness ...
She sank slowly to her knees, feeling silly, giggly, dumb, as He stepped naked into the shower beside her.
"It's sooo pink ..." she giggled, "an' fluffy ..."
