Brazilian Bathroom Line

"Close your eyes!" Marisol instructed. I could feel the water jet softening as soap suds shot at me and covered me in soap foam. A sweet orange smell was in the air. My mouth tasted a little seeped in acrid soap flavor. The harshness of the pure water spray returned, and the soap foam clouds rolled off of me.

The metal arm flipped in a very broad nozzle. Hot air blowed onto my body. The heat was right at the tolerance level of becoming too painful. My whole body was thoroughly stimulated by all the touch sensations for the different treatments. There was something pleasurable about focusing on sensation. She held the blow dryer longer on my pussy than she needed to. The pain and heat were very stimulating right there. "Don't you love it?" she said as if she were sharing a guilty secret. I felt my privacy even more stripped away than being naked by Marisol, watching my face for signs of an erotic reaction to the hot, slightly painful blowing on my pussy. She was completely in control of me.

With a smile, she flipped the nozzle for a pointed nozzle. "You have to hold very, very still for this!" she instructed me. I feared the worst, like a blade, but it was actually a makeup nozzle. It sprayed color onto my body in shades slightly darker than my natural skin color. The makeup contoured slight shadows onto me to create an appearance of stronger muscles. There were two shadow lines running up my belly to suggest that my rectus abdominus had some definition. My butt cheeks got slight shadow indentations to make them appear firm instead of big and round. Under my cheekbones was a shadow sprayed to make my jawline appear to stand out more. When I looked myself over after the spray, I suddenly looked sexy. I knew that I would feel so much more exposed in public because I felt that the slight sexual allure was advertising myself to the eyes on the subway to look at me.

Marisol led me back to my room and opened the box with my clothing. She picked a coiled-up string. I realized that we were going to go out in town matchy-matchy. The difference was that mine was baby blue. The fabric felt so light. It felt almost like it wasn't there. She smiled. I felt happy that she was pleased. I wanted to be a grateful sister. I hugged her and thanked her. That gave her a little glow in her eyes. I could see the pride beaming in her thoughts. I realized my role was to play the rough little sister that was overly grateful to be plugged out of the gutter. I was going to play it real well.

Next, we went to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and showed me where to stick my finger in. A sharp pin prick pierced my finger. I pulled my finger back out. The food maker was analyzing my blood to create the perfect nutrient solution with enough energy, all the nutrients needed for, and additional body/mood/behavior modification agents. I realized that Marisol was making choices for me to how my mood should be and what parts of my personality she tried to accentuate. This felt like a complete submission to her choices. I held the cup under the foodmaker to receive a green smoothie. I gulped it down. The flavor evoked an interesting feeling of standing at a beach with the salt in the air and a seagull screaming - a slight shudder following from the hint of bitter in it.

"Let's go work out," she said.

We walked into the hallway outside the apartment. The hallway was austere. The lighting was recessed. Three grooves ran along the wall as decoration to create an air of elegance. We passed an open door. I looked inside. The room was as austere as our apartment, but on the couch sat a woman. She was extremely obese. Her thighs, belly, and arms were big fat blobs. I was shocked. I was terrified. I felt pity.

"What's happening to her?" I asked.

"Come along! Don't look!" Marisol warned me and pulled me hard on the arm.

I insisted on her telling me. The sight of that woman was so alarming. Marisol reluctantly explained to me in the elevator that she was a shrek. The introduction of universal income had been one of the worst political calamities. Without incentives, many people had stopped working and doing things. They got sucked into AI-generated entertainment content. AI was so good these days that many traditional jobs had been taken over by AI. The big unemployment was one reason for creating universal income. After all, AI performed most of the work. Only a few people were unique and unpredictable enough that they stood out above the AI work. The finest work of literature were still the human domain. However, merely entertaining afternoon TV was entirely AI-generated. AI was great at making addictive content for free. Shreks were people who couldn't leave the constant stimulation of AI-generated entertainment anymore. Their bodies degenerated and were kept alive by modern medicine.

Marisol's peripherals were scanning the environment to block out AI-generated content from her vision to keep her safe. I would have to be careful until I got implants. I should look away as soon as I'd see something too alluring.

We entered the lobby when the doorman was leaving over the reception desk to tongue-kiss another resident before she ran out the door, making slight jumps in her diamond-studded high heels with a shopping bag in the crook of her arm because she was apparently late for something. She had a very cute compact ass with only a string thong disappearing between her butt cheeks.

I reached for the doorman's jaw like a chalice to enter his mouth and swirl right. My tongue lingered to taste his mouth deodorant: Chocolate chip cookie with vanilla, nougat, and a shot of rum. "You have a sweet tooth!" I told him with the smile of a warm tease. He looked down at his shoes as if he were blushing, but he had this coquette nature about him, like he loved being overly dramatic for the fun of it. "I like to give our residents a little treat," he spoke with an air that painted out how special the residents were to him.

He evoked my curiosity. This man had such a menial job of opening doors, yet the way he treated us was as if every resident entering the lobby were a genuine delight to him. He was either very peculiar to get a joy from that or he was a very good actor. I also learned that he was a good mindreader because he answered my question without me asking.

"Oh, Fia! I am very lucky. My passion is to be a saxophonist. Yet, I don't have the talent to be better than an AI-generated saxophone. So this job allows me to make enough money that on my evenings, I can play at a small cabaret. Finding a job these days that requires a human is very rare. However, the warmth of an interaction is something that AI isn't very good at yet when it comes to personal interactions. The building doors can already open themselves. The moment I stop making you special, I'm out of a job. But keep that a secret! I'm not allowed to tell regular guests, but there is some special bond that I feel with you because you came from America. Deep inside, you are different as well. I hope you come by one evening to hear my play the saxophone," the doorman explained.

The way how he took me to the side and talked to me in a low tone made me feel like he had broken script to tell me what was really on his mind. Was this one of his methods? He was so full of charm, the way how he rolled his eyes while talking and the little side glances that he shot me. In the warmth of his body movements, there was a hint that I could come down anytime to him to chat. He'd take me into his little reception backroom and pour me a cup of tea. The social charisma was very foreign to me because it didn't exist back in the depressed America living under the Blob.

Hurriedly, he reached for Marisol's jaw to greet her with a tongue kiss. I noticed his hand sliding onto her ass and squeezing it very firmly. The fingers were digging into her flesh. She tightened her bum in response. A spark of a smile lifted onto Marisol's lips. He hadn't kissed her like that with Ramon present. I sensed that there was more going on between the two. I also sensed that I only noticed because I was standing so close to them to catch the lingering look as their mouth were still softly connected. He seemed very discrete to the surroundings and very clear to the person right in front of him. What a marvelous man!

We walked into the bright sunlight. My eyes struggled to adjust at the intensity. Marisol dragged me on by my hand while I was mostly blind. After a few moments, I started to see a bit. I saw the many barely dressed people strutting fast across the car-less street. The high rises shot up dozens of stories high on all sides. I couldn't help but be mesmerized by a patch of plants. An eight foot tall sunflower looked down at me. The leaves were lush green and larger than a legal pad. Marisol noticed and stopped her swift gate.

"You should try it!" she encouraged me and directed me to stand in front of the plant.

"Closer!" she said. I wondered if she was taking photos with her implant. I didn't want to touch the precious plant. But at another encouragement, even though I tried to hover an inch away, I accidentally touched one of those large leaves. The sensation was so soft. Tiny little hairs covered the leave so that I didn't even touch the actual leaf. They felt soft and cool at the same time. The leave wrapped around my forearm. Another leaf came around my belly. It wrapped straight across the belly. I felt a bit of a pull from the plant. Then I noticed other leaves wrapping around my shins, my other arm, and everywhere. The plant engulfed me with its leaves.

"Don't worry! It's a safe hybrid of a flesh-eating plant and a sunflower. Simply enjoy!" Marisol assured me.

Entirely cocooned into sunflower leaves with only my face sticking out, the plant slowly lifted me into the air. It was a strange and interesting feeling to be wrapped so tightly. It felt cozy, a bit like a toddler being swaddled. Marisol explained that a real flesh-eating plant would now inject me with digestive juices, but this hybrid lacked the gene to produce digestive juices. It was a strange sensation to be a couple feet up high in the air and to look down on the people passing by.

A passerby called out to me, "Never lose the spirit of your inner child and play!" I realized that this was a thing adults didn't do anymore but entertained children endlessly.

Marisol caressed the red air roots on the stem of the plant. That created somewhat of a gag reflex for the plant. The plant's tight wrap loosened, and I slipped down to the ground. I kneeled low to slip out of the bottom of its grasp. It's amazing how much the environment affects one's mood. The sun light, the beautiful environment, and the little play lifted my mood so much. I sighed deeply, like I was letting go of the tension of a lifetime, and reached my arms out to offer myself to the new world. I noticed Marisol holding still for a moment. I was pretty sure that she took a photo of me. The little triumph of having taken a good one was on her lips. I started being able to read her face better. She didn't talk much about herself, but having a baseline of what her normal facial expression was let me see the small changes that signified what was going on in her mind.

We entered the broad mouth of a building. The entrance looked almost black in contrast to the bright Brazilian sun. My eyes adjusted to the half-light. We hurried down five flights of stairs with the crowd moving tightly around us - rushing in herd mentality forward. There was more breathing space between people on the platform. Near the entrance to the platform, I noticed a big empty space where nobody stood. When I looked closer, I noticed that rows of dozens of high heels stood neatly arranged on the ground - like absolutely perfectly arranged. I thought it might be an artwork installation.

"Oh, this is fun! You should try it out! Pick a pair from the third row. That's your size!" explained Marisol.

I was still surprised that Marisol saw all kinds of signs and explanations projected on her eyes from the implant, which I was completely unaware of. I was blind in this world without implants. Marisol saw me hesitating. "These are cheap step-and-go's. Don't worry about the cost. People usually only wear them once. They are there to match a mood, and an hour later, you can pick another one."

A woman walked up to the shoes. She bent forward to unclip her high heels. She stepped forward into a new pair. The square under the heels turned green, and she walked on in the new pair. The whole thing took ten seconds to change and buy a pair of new heels.

There were plenty of glass or seethrough heels on offer. White and seethrough was the common choice of women because it went well with mostly nude bodies. Black minimalists seemed like a second choice, only a thin black strap over the base of the toes and around the ankle to leave the food mostly bare. There were also outrageous ones with leopard prints or pink fluff balls.

I settled on a seethrough plastic/glass pair with a light blue glow to it to match the string wrapped around my body. There was an inch of a platform to it. Holding Marisol's hand, I stepped onto it. "Careful! They are locked," Marisol warned me. The heels were locked to the ground so that people couldn't walk away with them. When the ground felt my weight, the tile on the ground turned on sparkly lights to make me feel like a star. I felt around the heels and bent my knees a bit. To feel how comfortable they would be. They definitely gave me feet a nice arch. "Those look good," I told Marisol. The tile on the ground turned green. The lock released, and I could step away with them. "Don't worry, they'll mail the old ones home. Just move them so that they slip into the lock." I moved the heels a bit until they fit into the small indentation on the ground, and a sheet slipped through the side of the indentation to wrap around the bottom of the old heels and trap them.

"That is so convenient!" I told Marisol.

"You'll be amazed!" warned Marisol knowingly.

The train arrived. Marisol told me to close my eyes as we stepped onto the train. I felt the mist of sunscreen covering my body. I shivered slightly. The car was predominantly full of men. They all had chests as deep as pillows. Their bellies were intricate carvings of six pack bubbles, transverse abdominis, and hip bones poking out. The skimpy swimwear allowed me eyes to roam their bodies. A lot of them were holding their butt cheeks clenched to make them rounder and give them more of a pop.

The train moved a couple minutes and then stopped. There was probably another train ahead. One of those ads that I saw flashing by outside in the tunnel was right in front of our window. I looked at it. It was a beautiful waterfall. When I said beautiful, I mean absolutely mesmerizing. It was like the skill of a Picasso painting. A horse peacefully ate grass in front of it. Oh, no! It was a unicorn. Calico butterflies were fluttering around its snout as it dug deeply into the fresh, lush grass. Its eyes were so dreamy and innocent.

"Wow! Check out the waterfall!" I told Marisol.

"What waterfall?" she asked.

I pointed at the window for her to see the ad on the tunnel wall. She looked blank. Her eyes were searching in the direction of my finger but not finding anything.

"Look at the unicorn!" I told her, confused at her lack of comprehension of such beauty.

Her face grew more consternated as she tried to see what I was pointing at so adamantly. Suddenly, it snapped in her head what was happening. She grabbed my head as fast as she could, pressed me onto her chest, and dug her breasts into my eyes. Her embrace was so tight that I could barely breathe. Her arms were like iron bonds across the back of my head.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered. "I didn't realize it sooner because my implant blanked it out. That was AI-generated content. Are you alright?"

Her body was shaking. I registered the profound fear that a glance at AI-generated art stirred up in her. Even though it seemed harmless and beautiful, the danger of becoming eternally mesmerized dawned on me. If it wasn't for Marisol, I would have kept studying the details of the waterfall, the unicorn, and the butterfly, completely forgetting everything around me. A strange dread came over me. Without implants, I was exposed to the threat of AI-generated anywhere surprising me and absorbing my attention. That sunny-beautiful world suddenly had dark undertones of danger. I felt vulnerable without Marisol. I wanted to go nowhere on my own. Her hand slowly caressed down my hair. "It's okay. It's okay," she assured me over and over. "I'm here."

The train continued moving. After traveling a safe distance, Marisol's grip eased. I recognized the sign for me to move back to my seat. Looking around the subway is strange. There are all these mostly naked people. Their bodies and faces look like they are gleaming at the peak of their lives, but I have no idea what their lives are like. I haven't even interacted with them. The nakedness seemed strangely exposed at first, but I recognized that they were very astute at presenting a persona. The skin was part of their persona. Their true being was tucked deeply inside - just as Marisol had barely talked about anything personal.

One woman stood out in particular. She wore a richly blue bikini top. The ruffles on the bikini top suggested that wire shaped the boobs into perfectly tight round shapes, like a small cantaloupe cut in half. It was an unusual amount of fabric, but there was still plenty of under and top boob exposed. Her face looked porcelain white with features like her nose having drastic angles to give her an aristocratic Argentinian look. Her hair was short, styled, and pointed back like a piranha's fins. She pushed herself through in between people energetically towards us. The most eye-catching were the thin lines of body paint on her body. Like stripes on a race car, her upper arms, torso, and legs had things lines of pinstriping. A giant diamond-studded ring was pierced into the top of her navel button. Her eyes had an arc of little red dots half an inch away underneath them. Her earlobes had a dozen of rings in the top of her ear. She seemed at the same time high class and a woman that didn't give a shit what people thought.

"Hey, Marisol and Fia!" the woman called, displaying her earnestness in getting the last people to step out of her way.

Realizing that she was apparently a friend, I stood up. She eagerly grabbed my jawbones to hold me like a chalice. She had to try to get on her tip toes in heels. I bent forward to help her. Her lips enclosed mine. She swirled right. Then I felt the tip of her tongue fishing around my tongue a bit, and then there was a sharp pin prick, similar to how it felt to press a crystal of Honey into the neck, but on my sensitive tongue. I body jerked a bit, but finished my polite right swirl. Her mouth tasted of a dry red wine. The taste was subtle. There was no sweetness but the old age of a wine that had developed flavors over many years. I felt like looking at an Old World postcard to taste a bygone era.

"Oh, I'm sorry! My braces must have pinched your tongue. Luckily, they'll come off soon!" the blue-bra woman apologized. She had a bubbliness like she was used to talking a lot and all kinds of things came easily over her lips.

"That's my friend Neves!" introduced Marisol.

"What is it like to come here from America? This is your first day, right?" asked Neves.

"Well, when I think of America, I mostly think of the dark, black hole under the Blob. Here, everything is sunshine and so foreign. Every moment, there is a wonder of something new that I would have never imagined," I replied.

"What is it like to be out of those heavy winter clothes? Have you seen a man naked?" Neves continued asking.