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Once the shakings have subsided and I have regained my composure, I opened my eyes to see Aula lathering herself in the same manner she just washed me, rubbing her nethers enthusiastically with a blissful grimace on her face -- not even mindful of me, reclining half-passed out between her feet. Her other hand was gripping at her modest breast tightly, leaving red imprints against the tender flesh. Did she finish lathering me up? I feel my skin perfectly cleaned and warm all over. For some reason, my throat is all hoarse, and my tongue craves something sour -- and sweet at the same time. I close my eyes again. I need a nap after this relaxing bath. My mind, though hazy with exhaustion and confusion, welcomes a touch of much-needed shame: but no thought can explain to me what happened just a few moments ago.
"I, for one, had a perfectly wholesome day, Domina." Aula's apologetic words jar me awake -- she has already finished drying herself, donned her garments back, and is setting me down on my sleeping couch. I swallow hard to soothe the hoarseness of my throat.
"Of course, Aula. Of course, you would..."
Her lips brush mine in a barely noticeable manner -- like the gossamer wings of a butterfly. I doubt I was meant to notice this impromptu display of affection towards one's Mistress...
Did she touch... something... down there? My limbs and lower belly feel heavy, but not in an uncomfortable fashion: I dare not recollect why, as I drift to sleep.
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