She started to bring her arms forward only to stop as pins and needles struck. Frozen by pain, she waited. Against her will, she mentally went back to the day of her capture when she’d first lost control of her body.Endless days and nights later, she had yet to get it back.“You stink,” he announced. “When the hell did they last clean you?”She wasn’t an unwashed dog! She wasn’t! “This morning, Master. But I’ve been on the floor of a plane.”“Yeah, you have. You’re going into the shower.”Any other time the prospect of stepping into an expensive shower with pristine blue/gray walls would have thrilled her. But her master had hoisted himself onto the countertop where he’d have a clear view of what she was doing. At first she couldn’t figure out the workings of the five faucets. Then it took a while for her to determine where to stand. A built-in shelf in the shower held a variety of masculine soaps and shampoos. As gloriously warm water ran over the metal hugging her neck, wrists, and ankles, she surrendered to the fantasy of watching the hated restraints melt and wash down the drain. She didn’t dare turn her back to him.
