Page 23 of Nocturn

I gave her a look.

“True, I should have said that before.” She smiled sheepishly and held up the thing that cut me. It was a thin blade, angled and connected to a wooden piece large enough to fit in the palm. “This here is to remove all the hair under your arms, at your pussy, and your legs.”

I gawked.

“Use it like this,” she angled it and mimed running it up her arm. “Place it against your skin and drag up. If you angle it, it will not cut you.” She reached out to hand it to me. “And no, you cannot refuse.”

Since being ripped away from Bjorn Estate, I hadn’t the full image of how terribly naïve I was.

I looked down at my body. The points at the tip of my breasts poked out vulgarly and the damp fabric clung to every nook. A tear ran down the front. There was no use in holding onto it. I tugged it off my body and tossed it outside the stall, then I gingerly took the blade.

The notion of removing the hair on my body seemed so strange, but the feeling clean and the smell of the soap soothed my urge to run. I lifted my arm and pressed the blade to my skin.

“Opposite, go from down up.”

I followed her guidance as she talked me through removing the hair under my arms, then moved to my legs. The effect was silky skin.

“Now for your pussy,” she announced. A hot flush traveled over my face, but she continued. “Shave around and create a strip above your sex.”

My hand shook as I held the blade to the mound.

“Hold like this.” She reached down to push her palm flat against the bottom half, over the dress. I did the same, and I was so warm now that the water no longer fazed me. As I glided the blade down, a strip of smooth skin was left behind.

Well then.

“Make it look like this.” She lifted the bottom of her skirt and showed me the front of her pussy.

My face burned so hot, but her demonstration was effective. I bent in half and with careful glides, I removed all the hair until only a tuft remained.

“Perfect!” she chirped as I stepped under the water. She shut the water off once I had finished rinsing. “Dry off.” I caught the towel and rubbed myself dry. Miss Blane stepped into the damp stall and took the towel. “Here, slather this salve all over the places you shaved. It’ll stop hair from returning.”

She fiddled with a jar, twisted the top off, and held it out to me. I took it from her hand and dipped my finger in. The smooth, jelly-like consistency clung to my fingertips. It slid off, so I quickly rubbed it on my legs, under my arms, and at my mound. The sticky consistency didn’t last long, and wherever I applied it hummed with energy.

She handed me the robe over her arm, and I tugged it on, tying the sash at my waist. She stepped out and jerked her chin to the black slippers right outside. I stepped into them. The hard platform at their bottoms provided protection for my bruised feet.

The officers had yet to move from their place near the wall.

“Here.” Miss Blane held out a small silver cup. I shuffled to her, standing beside the line of sinks. I pinched the cold metal between two fingers. Shimmering emerald liquid swirled inside. “Swish it inside your mouth. It keeps your mouth clean for a moon rotation before you have to use it again.”

I had heard of this magical concoction. Unlike the salve, this was a tonic wash, expensive and luxurious. I tipped it back and swished it around my mouth, pushing the minty water through my teeth.

Leaning over the sink put me within view of my reflection. Bruises marred the line of my throat, mingling with the raised flesh of my Sigil. I touched my fingertips to the metal of the collar still around my throat. Yellow hues decorated the dark shades of the bruises along the side of my jaw, stretching up to my eye. I gingerly touched the scratches.

My damp hair framed my face, dripping from the ends. I smoothed the harsh furrow of my eyebrows and leaned to spit into the sink, leaving a minty coat in my mouth.

“Perfect, now let’s get you dressed.” She handed me fresh bloomers.

I took them and looked behind her at the guards. They were not entirely focused on me. Miss Blane moved into their path, allowing me a bit more privacy. My hands shook as I unwound the towel and handed it to her.

She held it for me as I donned a thin piece of material that covered my privates. It hugged my curves, clinging to me.

Next, I took a sapphire gown from her. The heavy, velvety material rubbed pleasantly against my skin.

“Turn,” she chirped, and I did as she said so she could tighten the corset. She pulled the sashes until they pressed into my back, forcing me into a straight posture and propping my breasts higher. I gaped down at the vulgar swell. “Now the real work begins.”

She brushed her hands together with a loud clap and turned on her heel. Egan opened the door for us.

“Thank you, darlin’,” she said loudly as I exited. She turned and pushed a loaf of bread into my palm. The rough texture abraded my skin. It was cold and a bit hard, but my hunger had it in my mouth. “Hurry.” I rushed to follow her up the stairs branching off to the left while I chewed.