Story 2: Submissive Feminist

Chapter 8:

That night I had an amazing dream with Laysan.

When I awoke to the dream world, I found that I was naked except for the chain and collar that NemesisGirl made me wear. I was in a steam filled room. At least, I assumed it was a room. I felt a tiled floor under my bare feet, but the soft glow of the white steam concealed any other features that may have existed. My leash actually disappeared into the steam somewhere over my head.

I watched the slack slip out of the leash and felt it tug against my collar, so I began to walk to see where it would lead me. I began to descend a ramp. My feet splashed loudly into a thick liquid which grew deeper with every step I was forced to take.

As I continued the level of the warm liquid rose above my knees to where I could see it through the steam. It was the color of butterscotch and smelled as sweet. I saw a shadow ahead which resolved itself into the beautiful form of my lovely Laysan. She reached out and pulled herself into my arms, her cheek pressed against mine, her foot snaking around the back of my legs somewhere under the waist deep pool.

She stepped back and looked into my eyes with her beautiful smile sitting serenely upon her face. She gently kissed two fingertips on her right hand and gently pressed them to my heart which suddenly filled with a love more thick than even the liquid which filled our bath.

"I love you, too," I whispered.

A tub filled with neatly folded cloths and containers of soaps and lotions floated out of the steam. As she stared into my eyes, Laysan cupped some of the sweet liquid in her hand and poured it against my belly and I realized that she was going to bathe me.

She pulled me close to her again, hugging me tightly. Her nose just below mine, her large, friendly eyes staring into my own. She nodded her head slightly and then began to pull me down. I let my knees bend and we slipped under the luxurious surface of the candied broth. The liquid felt so thick and smooth and it tugged at my hair. We remained underneath for what seemed to be forever, but I was never scared of running out of breath. Eventually, Laysan pushed up and we rose together back out of the pool. The sweet butterscotch ran thickly from Laysan's long tresses and dripped from link to link of her ever present chains that decorated her slim arms from collar to cuff.

She wrapped her chains and her arms around me and looked over my shoulder as she pulled a container from the floating tub. I heard a cork pop, then she rose up higher and poured some of the contents onto the crown of my head. I heard the container rattle back into the tub and she began working the syrup, smelling of fennel and sweet grass, into my scalp. Always, she held me particularly close so that our lips would brush against each other if we were to lean just a little. Bubbles tumbled from my head and slickened the surfaces where our skin met, across our chests, between our breasts and over the swell of our bellies. I tried my best to rub against her as she worked. Oh! Such a silky feeling!

After she squeezed and wrung the bubbles into the extent of my hair, she tapped me twice on my shoulder and held her hand out to the side, cupped as though she were carrying a delicate song. She pulled at my arm until I understood that I should hold my hand in the same manner. She reached around me and retrieved the container, pouring a healthy dollop into my open hand. She looked into my eyes, then flashed them up twice. I took the shampoo and wiped it across the top of her head. She tapped my arm quickly and held up the container, so I cupped my hand again and gave me more to wash with. Indeed Laysan's hair is thick and long flowing down her back and past the swell of her beautiful rear.

I did for her as she had done for me massaging her scalp, slowly descending, our foreheads pressed together. After I was done she pulled us under again and when we surfaced we twisted and wrung each others hair until the suds had fallen softly away.

Next Laysan pulled out a bubble filled loofah and began to scrub my arms from shoulder to tip. Throughout her ministrations she held me close, her thighs wrapped around mine, perhaps - a hand sliding luxuriously across the soft flesh of my cheek, perhaps.

She scrubbed my torso relentlessly and it was painful, but delicious. Perhaps, it was pain, indeed, that she was scraping away. She scrubbed at my breasts and my nipples and underneath until I squeaked and moaned, across my belly, stabbing at my navel and down the swell of my pubis as I fought off giggles and squirms. She twisted me around, and pushed my soaking hair over my shoulder and using two hands, now, pushed and scraped at my back. My leash pulled at my collar and helped me keep balance and when even that failed, Laysan wrapped a leg around mine to keep me upright.

Finally, she re-soaped the loofah and handed it to me. She pressed a finger into my chest and then pointed at herself. So, I began to scrub her down, exactly as she had done me. As I washed her, I examined her chains. They were beautifully smooth and lighter than they appeared. When I pulled her hair away from her neck I realized that a word was engraved in her metal collar in marvelously scripted letters. "FOREVER" it said. I certainly could find no keyhole or slot or seam, and so, decided that these were always part of her now.

As I began to scrub her back I noticed a vicious scar that I had never seen before. It had always been covered by her beautiful hair. The scar ran from her right shoulder to her left hip - a line of mottled skin that rose and dissolved along its path like a stitch in a hem. However instead of silk, this thread was as thick as a heavy cable.

I briefly rubbed my finger across the scar on her shoulder until she looked back at me, frowning slightly. I lightly kissed the tips of my fingers and pressed them back to the scar. When Laysan smiled at my gesture, tears began to pour from my eyes and I sobbed for the pain that Laysan must have endured to acquire such a badge.

As I scrubbed her back, Laysan pushed back equally hard against me like a cat, her back arched. I was trembling against her beauty.