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When the glass is back to black, and before I move away, I peer into the reflections for some clues about my appearance. A short, very curvy blonde woman in loose sweats and in critical need of a hairdo pouts back at me with a determined frown.
In the dark glass, it’s hard to be sure, but the side of her face looks like it’s bruised. Not swollen, just dark and discolored. Even looking straight into her eyes and meeting her gaze back at me, I don’t feel any spark or light of recognition.
As I make my way to the bathroom I’m wondering. Have they covered all the mirrors to spare me from having to see some bruising? That would seem unlikely. Or do they really want to keep me from recovering my memory?
Starting the shower, I think about it. They all talk about it being a matter of urgency, but yet they’re ready to take the doctor’s advice to just wait it out.
Under the water, my mind drifts to more immediate and physical concerns. As I’m soaping and lathering, running my hands over my body, I’m recalling images.
The stern looks and the heartless, mocking laugh of the Emperor. His lip curls in a way that makes me wet.
The devious mind that lurks behind the hot, dreamy eyes of the evil Mastermind. His long, dexterous fingers, the way they slide against his hard jaw and the cleft in his chin.
And my Warrior. Huge, sculpted. Hot as hell and hard as steel.
All three of my captors are as cool as ice on the outside, hot as pokers underneath. I would climb the bones of any one or all three of them at the drop of a lacy panty.
While the recollections of their faces smirk and leer at me in my mind, my fingers have taken the lathering gel into distracting places. All my folds and crevices seem to sting and ache from neglect and are crying out for some soothing massage and comforting friction.
The door to the room outside clicks open and I scramble and slip on the wet tiles. My hand slaps against the wall as I gasp and I nearly fall. I can’t remember if I even shut the bathroom door properly, much less whether I bolted it.
I call out, “I’m in the bathroom.” My voice cracks and gives me away.
The laugh that I hear back is not the Emperor’s. It has to be my Warrior.
I pull my hair through a towel and wrap it around my head. Quickly I slip myself into the thick, fluffy bathrobe that hangs on the back of the door.
“Coffee smells fantastic.” I pace over to him as he sets the tray down. As he straightens up, I stand closer and look up at him. “I wasn’t expecting you to bring it.”
I wonder if my Past Self is naturally as slutty and shameless as this. While I’m telling myself how desperate my situation is, I can’t help noticing that these moves seem to come pretty easy.
Looking inside, I’m not seeing much in the way of disapproval, either.
His slow, sardonic blink only makes me hotter and I lean against him as he tells me, “The others had to go into the city.”
“Oh,” I tip my head and blink. “What part of the city?”
“Minxy,” he slaps my ass through the thick toweling. “But you’ll need to be more clever than that, to catch even me out.”
Reaching up, stretching my body against him, I trace the line of his chin with a finger.
My pussy is aching and I can smell how hot and wet I am. My nips scrape the inside of the toweling robe and the hardness of his body against the press of my soft breasts is making me weak with flutterings inside.
My attempt at a seductive tease is having more effect on me than it seems to have on him. My efforts are not entirely wasted,though. I’m certainly achieving the desired effect on one part of him.
The lengthening pole pressed into my stomach and just below my tits is making my mouth water. In all, my attempts to cast spells over him are leaving me breathless.
As I drop into the chair, I give him a sulky look and a pout.
He hitches his pants to sit on the stool as he pours me coffee.
His eyes hold mine like a tiger, fixing his prey. “Your sultry seductress act is really coming along. Did you try it out on either of the others yet?”
“Seriously,” I say, “What other kinds of fun am I going to have in this up-market prison cell? Anyway,” I tell him, “Don’t be so heartless. I have real feelings for you.” I lean forward to take the coffee cup. “If you’d only let yourself off your tight-ass leash, I think you’d admit that you have feelings for me.”
He looks from the front of my gown, up into my eyes. “I have tight, hot, rock hard feelings for you right now.”
“And here’s me trying to be serious.” I sit back with my coffee.
