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“You’re in luck,” Kimberly said. “I just cleaned up in here, so it’s nice and fresh for you.”
Kimberly entered the spacious room and busied herself gathering towels, salts, lotions, shampoos, oils, and the hair supplies she kept in a basket under the sink for Shawna’s treatments.
“Thanks,” Michiko said softly. “I got it from here. I’ll soak for a bit then take a nap, I think.”
Kimberly turned to stare at her with her arms loaded down like a pack mule.
“Are you kidding me right now?” she demanded calmly. “Strip.”
Then she turned to the tub and began assembling her set-up.
“Um, look,” Michiko told her with a snarky attitude. “I hate to break your heart, but I don’t like girls that way.”
“Neither do I, you moron. Now get naked and let me take care of you or the trip to the doctor is back on the table.”
Michiko narrowed her eyes but put her hands on the neck of her shirt and lifted it slowly over her head.
“Jesus ate Christ!” Kimberly yelped. Kato had warned them she wouldn’t say when, and they hadn’t listened. Tears bit at Kimberly’s eyes like rabid dogs and Michiko’s eyes narrowed even further.
“Suck it up or we’re already done, Kimbo.” She held the shirt in front of her and glared at Kimberly like a frightened, angry, child. “And it’s Jesus H Christ, you moron.”
“Well, you’re a fucking idiot, and I can say my isms any way I want,” Kimberly retorted. All Kimberly wanted to do was take care of her. Why in the hell had they stood by and let her do this to herself last night? Kato was going to kill them all. And he had every right. Starting with Michiko.
“Are you really too lazy to say colloquialism?” Michiko demanded.
“No!” Kimberly shot back hotly. No, she damned well was not. She just couldn’t pronounce it. But she wasn’t telling Agent Ninety-Nine that. Kimberly wiped at her cheeks, the tears effectively dried by their banter. “What are you doing? Looking for Mr. Goodbar?”
“Huh?” Michiko looked stumped.
“Never mind.” Kimberly huffed. “Will you just get in the tub, please? I do this for Shawna. It helps.”
With a sullen look one of her kid sisters would be proud of, Michiko dropped the shirt and relented. “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with? Jeez.”
Kimberly let out a reluctant laugh and turned back to the tub. She set the water to a slightly cooler temp than she’d had for herself, but still hot. Michiko was bound to be aching everywhere. She added salts to soothe sore muscles and herbs to ease her mind and clear out her senses. As the room filled with fragrant steam, Kimberly helped Michiko step into the foamy water.
She groaned long and deep as her tiny body sank neck-high into the bubbles and her sigh was contagious.
“Better?” Kimberly asked as she let out a deep breath with the other woman.
“Much,” Michiko told her and the tension in her features eased. “Thanks. You can go now. I got it from here.”
“Uh-huh.” Kimberly smiled. Was the agent actually growing on her? “You’re in the scene now. And more than that, you’re in our scene. There’s such thing as aftercare in BDSM. Have you ever heard of it?” As she spoke, Kimberly took the showerhead off the bracket and turned it on a gentle massage. She started running it over the edge of Michiko’s hairline in a slow back-and-forth rhythm and watched her lashes flutter.
“N-no,” she answered. “What’s that?”
“Well…” Kimberly turned off the water, chose a bottle, squirted a generous amount into her palm, and began to work a lather into Michiko’s scalp that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head. There were reasons she was the highest paid stylist in the whole city and her shampoo jobs were one of them. “As you have no doubt begun to see for yourself, BDSM is not about seduction or romance. The beforehand is about negotiation. Honesty is the most important key to BDSM and that kinda takes out all the hearts and flowers, don’t you think?” She turned the water back on, rinsed with one hand, and used her long nails to stimulate the scalp as the warm rush flushed all the soap from Michiko’s silky hair. She selected the first conditioning treatment and applied it to her ends, working it in with meticulous care as she explained the ins and outs of what she understood about the lifestyle.
“Then you do your scene and it’s intense, right? Now, afterward, like last night, when it’s all said and done, if the Dom has done his or her job, the sub has been reduced to their atoms. The sub is nothing but feelings. Both the physical and the emotional. You were like that, and you just walked away.” Kimberly paused as she thought about that and placed her hand on Michiko’s forehead in comfort. The other woman bore it with eyes closed and trembling lips. “BDSM scenes done right strip you down to your soul. For the person who does that to you to then just walk away and leave you to put yourself back together alone? Well, that’s fucking awful. On the flip side of that, to be the one to disassemble another human to that degree, then not be allowed to help them recover? Well, I can only imagine that would be its own kind of hell.” Kimberly massaged in the conditioner and added, “Aftercare is the one guaranteed place for tenderness and romance in BDSM. At least in my opinion. It’s where we get to see the tender side of our Doms. The, I dunno, hidden side of their fierce natures. During the scene, they show us how much they desire us, how fierce their passion and lust for us is. During the aftercare, they show us how much they, well, care for us.”
“The thing is, Kimberly, I don’t want any of those animals to care for me.”
Well, she couldn’t argue with that.
“Why are we here again?”Kimberly complained like a whiny twelve-year-old.
“Because I can’t go home and my appointment with the esteemed Ms. Bradshaw isn’t for another three hours,” Michiko told her, munching popcorn. “I’m bored.”
Kimberly was walking arm-in-arm with Shawna on a bright and beautiful day. After her bath, Michiko had taken a two-hour nap, eaten enough to feed an army then lasted about thirty minutes before she’d dragged the two women from the house.
