Healing Bath, © Copyright Kayla Kuffs, 2000, (1391 words)

He watched as she gingerly lowered herself into the tub of Epsom salts.  It was during her bath time that he realized how much he loved her and how easy it would be for her to be absent from his life.  What a gaping hole that would leave for him, it was something he was at loath to think about.  He sat on the toilet to keep her company as she soaked her incision.  Just a minor surgery for a minor problem, but the aftereffects definitely put their regular activities on hold for a few weeks.  The effects had also given him a new appreciation of his submissive wife.

He watched as she took a sponge and started squeezing the warm water down her back and arms.  Watching the droplets trickle down her smooth fair skin.  Seeing the tendrils of long dark hair dampen and curl from the water and the steam of her bath.  She looked beautiful and serene.  This was a healing bath for her, not one for washing or shaving, but one for letting her incision heal and her body relax.  She was most comfortable in the tub these days and he enjoyed sharing this time with her.

This routine started the day after she came home from the hospital.  She was told a bath would ease the pain from her surgery but she was afraid it would hurt when she dipped into the hot water.  After the dinner that he’d prepared for them he had drawn her a bath and helped her into it, promising he’d help her out quickly if the water caused her pain.  He knew right away from the look on her face that she’d discovered a way to ease it.  Her face relaxed, then lit up with a big smile as the warmth worked it’s magic and she was pain free for a while.

Since that day, almost a week now, they had fallen into a routine of soaking her after dinner.  It did something quite unexpected for both of them.  For him, after a long days work, the quiet time in the bathroom was concentrated on just the two of them.  He refused to answer the phone, the first couple of days so that he’d be available for her if she needed him, then he decided the uninterrupted quiet time was too precious to their days to permit interruptions.  For her it was a time to let go all of the pain and discomfort she’d been feeling all day.  She felt whole and uncut in the tub.  And she enjoyed the uninterrupted attention she received from him.  It had become their time and he decided this was a ritual they would continue long after she was healed.

Funny, he thought, how they both enjoyed it when he inflicted pain on her body.  She loved the endorphins and he loved to watch her reaction.  This pain was different though.  It wasn’t good for either of them.  He hated to see her in any discomfort that he didn’t cause.  He wanted her happy and healthy.  He wanted her with him.  He watched her squeeze the sponge again and a water of droplets ran down her arched neck and drizzled down her breasts.  Breath taking beauty. 

He knew she’d want to cover her bare skin in lotion when she got out of the tub.  She had a favourite vanilla scented cream that she slathered all over herself when she was done.  He teased her about it being vanilla and she always retorted it was the last hangover of her vanilla life and she didn’t see a need to let it go.  She put the lotion on in front of him.  Her hands sliding all over her body, cruising every curve and every crease.  She had a routine established and she always started at her neck and worked her way down.  Sometimes she’d stop and massage her breasts more than she really needed to.  It was a little show for him.  He loved to watch her when she played for him.

One long leg rose out of the water, the sponge now drenching her leg, the water making a tinkling sound as it ran back into the tub.  He thought of the how she’d raise that leg to the side of the tub when she applied her lotion.  How her other leg would be pulled straight as she bent from the waist and let her slippery hands slide all over her leg.  Massaging the lotion into her already soft skin.  Slowly and deliberately working the lotion in.

They sat together in the bathroom for half an hour.  The bathwater was starting to cool down and it was time for her to get out.  She could get in and out of the tub on her own but today he stood up and offered her his hands.  She reached for them and he helped her stand and helped her step out of the tub.  Before she could reach for her towel he had it in his own hands and began to carefully pat her dry.  She stood there, letting her husband, her master, care for the body he claimed as his own.

He’d taken such care of her during her recovery.  He’d hired a woman to come in and clean for her, he cooked the evening meal.  She was left to fill her days with books, television and company, as friends dropped by to visit her.  He cared for her completely as she recovered, but the way he was touching her now swelled her heart, understanding he was taking special care with her tonight.  Not knowing the reason, not really caring, just enjoying his hands on her body.

He retrieved her lotion from the bathroom cabinet and began to rub it into her flesh.  Kneading and massaging, working her muscles, removing what little tensions was left in them.  She stood, though it was hard for her, her body was becoming too relaxed.  He moved off her shoulders and down her back.  His hands slipped to her buttocks where he spent an extended period of time just rubbing round and round until her skin could no longer absorb the lotion.  He slid his arms around her and worked up her abdomen, feeling the swell of her belly, the deep curve of her waist and finally resting on the fullness of her breasts.  He lingered on her breasts as well.  His touch firm but ever so gentle.  This wasn’t a sexual touch she was feeling.  To her it felt like he was worshipping her body.  Not something she expected.

When he dropped to his knees in front of her and began to work the light vanilla scent into her legs she felt a warm rush of feeling flush through her body.  This was not a position she had ever seen him in.  It was she who kneeled, not him.  His hands were gentle but firm as he massaged each leg.  He rubbed her feet as well, lifting first one then the other to apply a generous coating of the lotion.  The love she felt for him overwhelmed her at that moment and her eyes were brightened by welling tears of sentiment.

The lotion applied, he stood up, gazing at the beauty of her body in front of him.  He took her terrycloth robe and wrapped both it and his arms around her.  He wanted to keep her warm and comfortable.  She cuddled close to him and they stood there for a moment, enjoying the closeness of each other’s body.  He reached around and undid the clip that held her dark hair and it cascaded down her back.  Fair skinned, wrapped in a white robe with raven black hair blanketing her back.  She was his prized possession, he felt proud to be her owner.

He took her hand and led her to the livingroom where he tucked a sofa throw around her lap.  From there he went to their VCR and popped in a tape that he knew she’d like.  He came and sat beside her on the sofa.  She lifted her throw so they could both share it.  And so the night began, the two of them bound by their love for each other, entwined on the sofa for a quiet evening of movies.  The phone rang.  They didn’t answer.