Jemmas Dilemma Ch 03

Clasping the towel firmly around her, Jemma followed the girl back into the bedroom, still intrigued as to how the doors worked.

Laying on the bed was a large white robe, the type you get in health spas and expensive hotels. Holding it up, the girl indicated that Jemma should put it on. Feeding one arm then the other into the sleeves, Jemma wrapped the robe around her, fastening the tie belt securely before pulling the towel out from underneath, careful not to expose any more of her body than necessary.

Okay it was a ridiculous gesture considering the other girls fingers had been all over her body just a moment before, but Jemma still felt uncomfortable at the thought of just baring everything. She just didn't have that kind of exhibitionist streak, never had.

Holding out her small hand, the girl took the towel from her and dropped it into a small hatch that once again magically appeared in the wall beside the bed as she approached. Jemma felt a bit like someone had dropped her into a Harry Potter novel, doors that appeared by magic then vanished again, seemingly with no visible trigger or handle, rooms with no lights or plug sockets. Of course she knew it wasn't really magic but it still intrigued her and frustrated her in equal measure. Why could the girl do these things and she couldn't? Bloody men and their bloody gadgets!

Following the girl through the door she'd initially appeared at, Jemma wasn't surprised to find herself in a long, white hallway, framed at each end by windows that covered the whole wall at each end, from floor to ceiling. A little further on, another secret door opened and, walking through, Jemma found herself in yet another large white room, one wall made of glass as in her bedroom. In the centre of the room were two plump, white cushions placed before a low, white table.

He sure takes the minimalistic look to extremes, Jemma thought as she sat warily on one of the cushions, everything white, the rooms sparsely furnished with little decoration apart from the randomly placed seascapes. It should have felt cold, clinical even, but for some reason Jemma found it comforting. The full length glass walls let in a warm stream of sunlight and the sheer emptiness of the rooms gave her a feeling of security, they were like a blank canvas waiting for inspiration.

Bringing her attention back to table in front of her, Jemma watched as the girl laid out fresh fruit, artfully arranged on the plate as if in a 5* restaurant, golden flaky croissants, bright red jam in a little dish, and, to her relief, a large steaming pot of coffee.

Once the table was laid to her satisfaction, the girl nodded to her and left the room. Jemma took this as an invitation to begin eating and tucked in hungrily, her stomach rumbling as she realised that in the shock of yesterdays events she'd forgotten food entirely. This was much better than anything she could ever hope for at home, the pastry melting in her mouth, sweet and a perfect contrast to the tartness of the jam, she almost moaned with pleasure, when was the last time she'd been able to simply sit and enjoy good food without worrying about time or cost? Years at least, she thought sadly, years and years and years...

Oh well, she wasn't going to be here long, might as well make the most of it while she could, she'd soon be back to reality. Raising a slice of peach to her lips she savoured the sweetness, devouring the soft flesh, a trickle of juice escaping to run down her chin and drip onto her chest. Closing her eyes she pictured the girl following the trail of juice down her body with her tongue, lapping it off before picking up another slice and rubbing it over her puffy nipples, sucking them hard into her mouth and biting down gently...

What the hell was happening to her! These weren't her thoughts! She'd never had any interest in women before, and certainly no interest in using food as a sex toy, clearly the stress of the situation was playing with her mind!

Weirdly though, she didn't feel stressed, in fact she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more relaxed. The starkness of her surroundings, the lack of distraction, the beautiful views from the window, all these had combined to release a lot of the tension that had built up over the previous years. Perhaps it was the silence, she wasn't used to a complete absence of noise as there was here. In her flat the walls were so thin that you could almost hear the neighbours breathing if you concentrated hard, not that it was ever quiet enough to do that, the angry rows of the couple downstairs, the drunken youths in the park behind her window, the constant sirens of passing emergency vehicles, all combined to ensure she never had peace.

The contrast here was shocking, apart from the few words the girl had spoken in her soft voice, there was a complete lack of sound, it was like being in an isolation chamber.

Taking a sip of her coffee she acknowledged the accuracy of her observation, if it wasn't for the few pictures and the glass walls this would be exactly like an isolation chamber, right down to the lack of fixtures and the doors that she couldn't open. Not a reassuring notion.

Putting the mug back on the table she stood, approaching the door, willing it to open. Waving her hands around she tried to activate the sensor that must be present but it remained resolutely shut. A sliver of fear tried to push itself into her mind and she firmly tamped it down, she was not a prisoner here, she just had a knowledge gap, and as soon as the girl appeared again she would remedy that.

When the door opened again, however, it wasn't the girl, instead an older lady stood in the doorway dressed in a similar white uniform.

"Follow me," she ordered, turning and walking away.

Jemma considered refusing to move until she got some answers, but the woman seemed to sense this and turned, giving her a quelling look, suggesting that disobedience would be a bad idea.

With a resigned sigh, Jemma trailed after her, wondering where she was being taken this time. To find some clothes, she hoped. Walking around in just a robe was rather discomforting, especially as everyone else she encountered was fully dressed. Mind you, as her other alternatives had been a sheet and a towel, the robe was a definite improvement, but she would feel much happier once she was properly dressed.

Following the woman into a room at the end of the corridor Jemma bit back a groan of frustration at the sight of yet another white room. In the centre of the room was a large padded table, white of course, with a hole at one end and a folded fluffy looking white towel at the other end.

It didn't look like her wish for clothing was going to be granted any time soon.