A New Beginning

Prequel I - Bath Time

You are listening attentively to your colleague's vivid description of the bar fight that took place last week when the manager interrupts to inform that some feller has just ordered a bath. As it's your turn, you excuse yourself with a smile, slightly disgruntled as the story was just getting interesting.

Pacing through the corridor, you pull at your semi-transparent, short-sleeved, off-shoulder white blouse and smooth out non-existing folds on your equally thin, floating skirt. As you pass the hallway mirror, you throw a glance at your reflection, pleased with what you see. Lips and cheeks with the perfect tint of red, and eye makeup that is noticeable sans vulgar. Your hair has been fastened in this messily-tucked-away bun that may seem twirled together at random but actually takes both time and practice to set up. You run a hand through your tresses, making sure they are drooping over your face in just the right places. Reaching the bath area, you take a deep breath and knock on the massive door.

"You need any assistance in there?" you call out, your heart hammering slightly faster than normal.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," a low, raspy voice replies, muffled from behind the closed, wooden door.

Of course. They always accept. You slowly enclose your hand around the knob, changing your mien to that friendly-but-distant guise you always greet clients with. It's your second month working as a deluxe bath girl at the local guesthouse and save from a couple of minor episodes, you've never had any unpleasantries with clients, and even in those two off-cases, nothing serious had happened. But there were no lack of stories from the other girls, making you wary and apprehensive before every new customer as you never know what or who is going to meet you as you step through that door to be left all alone with a naked stranger.

As you peek inside, a pair of friendly, green-blue eyes greet yours. Despite being submerged in hot, foam-coated water, it's easy to tell he's a large and well-built man. He gives you a gentle, almost shy smile that you find most charming. You can also tell from the handful of white bubbles in the honey-blonde hair framing his face that he's already been scrubbing his head.

You crouch down and dip your hands in the water to check the temperature, casually chitchatting about nothing in particular with a courteous, professional smile. Apparently, this feller here hasn't been able to catch a break, or a bath, in weeks and you are the first nice person he's come across in this town. You reply with the same polite but impersonal courtesies as you always do, relief washing over you, as he seems to be one of the nicer ones.

You move behind him to rub his shoulders. He makes a miniscule, almost imperceptible flinch the moment your fingers touch his wet, glistening skin, which you pretend to not notice. Each knead of your hands serves to relax him more and more and you feel the tension in his muscles dissipate as he sinks into the tub, closing his eyes.

"You feeling all right there?"

"Sometimes ya gotta treat yourself, ya know."

"Ain't that right," you agree, a self-indulgent, not-so-professional smile spreading across your lips now that you are behind him and he can't see your face. He certainly is a mighty fine-looking feller. As your fingers dig into his muscular shoulders, low grunts rumble from deep within his chest, and you can't help but to wonder who is having the biggest treat here, him or you.

"Just relax, honey," you croon, leaning in close to his ear. "I'm here to take good care of you."

"Mm-hmm."

You take your sweet time massaging his shoulders before moving to his left arm, starting high up at his shoulder and slowly working your way downwards in light but firm, circular motions. Usually you just use your fingers but with this particular client, you put your entire palm to work, all the way from the back of your thumb to the tip of your fingers. As you inch you way down to his wrist, you can't help but to let your eyes glide over his fit and muscular body, with dints and curves in all the right places, wondering how he got all these scars.