Jon closed his book and lay it on the coffee table in front of him, then glanced across the room. The girl lay on the couch across from him, knees drawn up as she mindlessly read the novel he'd given her. Every once and awhile she squirmed, and he wondered if it was in reaction to a particularly naughty paragraph. The book, after all, was straight out erotica.
He coughed, clearing his throat. A (not so) sly move to gain her attention...
"Bedtime Pet."
It could have been an inquiry...but they both knew it was a command. To his surprise, she didn't even hesitate. She simply rode to her feet and headed for her couch in the lounge.
"No, not there."
He stepped towards her, gently but firmly grasping her shoulder, guiding her to the bedroom.
"Here. With me."
The girl tensed, but made no resistance, obediently walking through the bedroom door. He led her to the bathroom, guiding her to the spacious shower. Then he stepped aside, leaving her standing, awaiting his next command. His cock stirred, unbidden, at her quiet submission.
"Strip Pet."
She did hesitate, but not for long. Turning her back to him, she slipped the large t-shirt over her head, leaving it in a puddle on the floor. He considered ordering her to face him, but decided he quite liked the view from this angle.
"Keep going."
No hesitation this time, the shorts joined the puddle on the floor almost immediately. He held back a chuckle as he watched her clench and unclench her fists, clearly debating covering herself--but ultimately her hands stayed demurely at her side like a good little pet. Some of the training he'd dolled out in measured doses inevitably had sunken in despite her active attempts to resist.
He stood behind her as he unbuttoned his shirt, rolling his sleeves up past the elbows. Not a word was spoken, he knew she was nervously anticipating his next move. He didn't touch her, simply stepped aside and reached into the shower. He waited until the temperature was perfect, then adjusted a couple of the many shower heads accordingly.
"Step in Pet. Careful, don't slip."
She tried to turn away again, but the position put the spray of the shower-heads directly in her face.
"No, little one. Face me."
She did as he commanded, glancing nervously at him. For the first time he could see the trepidation in her eyes. He grinned, unconsciously, but she noticed; closing her eyes she took a deep breath, centering herself.
He crossed the room to the counter and grabbed a bottle of body wash. Returning to the shower, he reached for her hand. Water dripped onto his own arm as he pressed down on the pump.
"Wash your arms."
She held his gaze as she obediently ran the soap down one arm, and then the other, the bubbles tickling her skin.
"Reach up, rinse them off."
Eyes still locked on his, she obeyed his command, reaching high into the air and allowing the water to wash the suds away.