“I take it you have not seen a man before in quite this state.” He chuckled as he walked over to the steaming tub, reveling in the feel of her eyes upon him as he moved, “Don’t worry, you will soon discover the joy that I can give you!”
Laughing softly, he eased himself into the hot water, and watching his captive out of the corner of his eye, he began washing himself briskly with a cloth and scented soap. Leigha turned away in embarrassment and looked around the room, anywhere but at the man in front of her. Her eyes stopped their restless movement when she caught sight of the brass urn her father had given her after his last trip abroad. A plan of escape began to form in her mind, and knowing that Simon was watching her, she quickly looked elsewhere. Accepting what she had to do, she blinked back tears and prayed that she would have enough courage and strength to carry out her plan.
“Come wash my back for me,” Montieth demanded, holding the cloth and soap towards her. Grinning as she scowled at him in defiance, he said, “No need to be like that now, ‘tis a simple enough request that I make.”
Leigha shook her head in resignation as she slowly walked over to him. Kneeling down beside the tub, she lathered his broad back with the perfumed soap. Using the cloth, she rubbed the soap in well to cleanse the tanned skin. After rinsing away the suds and dirt, she set the cloth down and began her plan. Placing both hands on Simon’s back, she was amazed at how hard and sinewy his muscles were beneath her fingertips as he turned to see what she was up to.
“I’ll just rub your back for a while to ease some of the soreness you must have after all of the fighting that you did today,” she explained as she began to massage him gently but firmly, avoiding the amusement in his eyes. “Your sword must have gotten heavy, for by the looks of the field, you must have swung it many times.”
“Not as many as you might think,” Simon commented quietly, ignoring the undertones of sarcasm he heard in her voice. “‘Tis a good idea you have just the same,” he sighed, turning his back full to her now, content to trust the maiden who plied his back so soothingly. As her fingertips kneaded the tension from him, he murmured, “You do make a fine slave, Leigha.”
Leigha bristled at his remark but continued to smooth and caress his firm back, her fingers giving no hint of the anger and tension that sat so heavily on her slim shoulders. Taking a towel, she dipped it into the hot water, bringing it out again to place across his back so that its heat would penetrate into his muscles. After waiting for a few minutes, she removed it and began massaging him again. Simon slumped forwards in the tub as the heat from the towel and now her kneading hands relaxed him. Soon he was snoring quietly, and Leigha realized that this was her chance. Placing the hot towel once again upon his back to replace the movement of her hands, she moved as quietly as she could over to the urn. Trembling as she lifted it, she tried to gain the courage needed to perform the task in front of her. Biting her lower lip to steady her nerves and blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes, she stepped silently over to the sleeping man. Raising the urn high with both hands, she sent it smashing down upon his head. Simon groaned and toppled over from the blow, his body hanging half out of the tub as his blood flowed freely from the wound to form a glistening pool on the floor. Leigha was horrified by what she had done but rapidly recovered as she realized that there had been no other way for her to escape. She said a quick prayer for forgiveness and then turned to race to her wardrobe for some clothes.
What lengths would you have gone to?