part 8

I felt the master get up from the mattress, and a sudden fear gripped me, afraid he might leave me alone again. But then, his soft voice broke the silence: "Come, my birdie, let’s give you a shower." He extended his hand towards me, and I took it timidly, blushing at the affectionate nickname. My blush deepened as I realized we would be showering together.

As he led me to the shower, each step heightened my embarrassment. Especially when I stood up and felt his semen start to drip from my pussy, sliding down my legs. The master briefly let go of my hand to turn on the water, and soon the warm rain of the shower enveloped us. He pulled me to his chest, holding me tightly as the water cascaded over us, merging us in that small space.

Curling up against his chest felt so good, so safe, something I had never experienced on the streets. My face instinctively moved, brushing against his skin softly, while he started running his fingers through my hair with a tenderness I had never seen from him before.

"It’s curious," he said with a softness that contrasted with his usual authority, "you’re shorter than my dolly."

"My dolly? Do you mean Haley?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Yes," he replied with a slight smile. "I like to call her that. I think I’ll start calling you my birdie because you’re like a little wounded bird I picked up." His voice was full of affection as he continued stroking my hair, and for a moment, I felt truly loved, as if I had found the home I had always been searching for.

"Let’s get you showered," he said gently before pulling away from our embrace. I watched him as he lathered his hands with soap, realizing with a full-body blush that he was going to bathe me himself. The thought of his hands traveling over my body, washing me with that intimacy, caused a warmth to bloom in my belly, even though I also felt a little intimidated. My breathing quickened slightly, anticipating the contact as he approached with that mix of tenderness and authority that always made me yield to his desires.

The master took my shoulders gently, and embarrassed, I looked away. I felt him move behind me, his firm, confident hands beginning to massage my shoulders, relaxing me with his gentle touch. Every movement of his fingers was a slow, calculated caress that dissipated any tension in my body, making me feel safe and protected. Before I knew it, his hands began sliding down my body, lathering me with soap, his fingers delicately caressing my skin.

I felt his hands pass over my breasts, caressing them tenderly, and I let out a sigh, closing my eyes, surrendering completely to his care. The contact with my hardened nipples, brushing them with his slippery hands, sent a wave of unexpected pleasure through my body, making me arch slightly back, seeking more of his touch.

One of his hands slowly slid down my belly, moving with firmness but also with a gentleness that made me shiver. He was getting closer and closer to my crotch, while the other kept kneading one of my breasts, pulling a soft moan from me. He gently squeezed my breast, playing with my nipple between his fingers, sending waves of pleasure through my body. My breathing became faster and more ragged, and a growing heat began to build in my abdomen, spreading throughout my being.

Every touch, every movement of his hands, seemed to be claiming my body, appreciating it like no one ever had before. The sensation of being touched that way, with that mix of possession and tenderness, filled me with a strange blend of submission and affection. It was as if his hands were discovering every corner of me, exploring and taking what belonged to him, yet making me feel more loved than ever.

His hand reached my crotch and began rubbing it gently, while the other continued kneading my breast and playing with my nipples. I let out an involuntary moan, feeling his warm breath near my ear and his hips pressing against mine. I felt his hardened cock brushing against my cheeks, sending a shiver through my body under his caresses. Each brush and each touch made me feel more vulnerable, but at the same time more desired, caught in a whirl of emotions and sensations that I couldn’t and didn’t want to control.

Suddenly, he turned me around and placed me against his chest, passing my hands behind his neck as I looked at his face with intensity. I threw myself into kissing him, feeling the warmth of his lips against mine while his hands caressed my back. Gently, he began to lather it, slowly descending toward my buttocks. When his hands grabbed my cheeks firmly, an involuntary moan escaped my lips and I blushed, pulling away from the kiss and resting my face against his chest. His fingers, firm and confident, explored every inch of my butt, intensifying my feeling of vulnerability. I loved the way he groped me, claiming what was his with a confidence that made my heart race.

"Turn around," I heard him say firmly. I obeyed immediately, feeling my heart racing. I felt him take my arm and begin to lather it, caressing it gently. Then he moved to my other arm and repeated the same process. He descended down my back to my legs, caressing them as he washed them. Finally, he turned around to wash the front, slowly moving up to my crotch. I felt his fingers slide over my lips, sending a shiver of pleasure through my body, while he rubbed my pussy softly before moving up to my hips and gently washing my sides.

He slowly moved away, looking at me as if he were admiring his work. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, blushing under his intense gaze. The master took the shower hose and began to rinse me, letting the warm water flow over my skin, washing away every trace of soap. His gaze didn’t leave me, watching every reaction and every shiver as the water gently cascaded over my body, caressing me pleasantly. I felt the gentle flow of the water run over my breasts, sliding down them, and then down my crotch, intensifying the sensation of his touch, almost as if it were his own hands moving over my skin.

When he finished, he turned off the water and took a soft cloth, applying soap to it before handing it to me. I accepted it, and looking into his eyes, I immediately understood what he wanted: for me to wash him. The thought of touching his body made me blush, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks and spread over my skin. That he allowed me to take care of him in this way filled me with deep pride, as if this opportunity were an invaluable gift. Eager to show him my devotion and gratitude, and hoping he would love me with the same intensity with which I loved him, I stepped forward. With my heart racing and my mind full of emotion, I prepared to start washing him.