Sylvus smiles down at me with gentle affection. He loves doting on me like this. And I love the attention.
He scoops me up and wraps me in silk, binding me in that stretchy compression cocoon that makes my mind stay soft.
There’s nothing to think or worry about. Cheshire will laze in the sun and hunt local pests until either Sylvus goes to get her or she meows hungrily at the cave’s entrance to fetch him. Everything is taken care of.
My eyes flutter shut as Sylvus carries me down to the bathing room.
Tiers of hydrophobic silk form a waterfall of steaming mineral water from a hot spring. Apparently, that spring was the reason Sylvus chose this cave over another.
He strips the silk from me, carefully setting my bell aside, then lowers me into the water.
I moan happily at the penetrating heat. My limbs float limp in the water, and I relax as Sylvus diligently scrubs me down with floral soap, then massages conditioner into my hair.
When I’ve agreed to be his little cow, if I try to reach for anything or use my hands, he quickly slaps and reprimands me.
Some days I crave that, and I misbehave so he’ll put me in line.
Today, I’m in an obedient mood.
Sylvus lifts me out of the water and towels me off, squeezing my hair with a special towel that quickly dries it.
“Alright, Andromeda. It’s time for you to come back to me.”
He sets me upright on a firm band of silk. The haze drains out of my head, and I lift my hands and rub my eyes. I stretch, feeling refreshed.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Hmm… good.”
“Ready for your surprise?”
“Uh, obviously.”
“You need to get dressed.” Mirth glints in his eyes.
I tilt my head at him. “I literally don’t have any clothes.”
“Ah, of course. Well, since we have to improvise…”
He suddenly lifts me and turns me upside-down, and I yelp as he twists me around in his legs.
I laugh. “Sylvus!”
He sets me down on my feet, offering a hand to steady me through my dizziness. He tugs a band of silk and the floor-length mirror suspended near the bath turns toward me.
“Aren’t you gorgeous,” he breathes over my neck.
A silk body-con dress wraps my curves, hugging every roll of my stomach and swell of my breasts and hips. The crossover top props my breasts into cleavage, which frames the silver bell on my throat.
He pulls up my curls, which are a good deal longer than when I arrived, into an elegant half-do, fastened with a silk tie.
Warmth blooms in my chest. “What’s this about?”
“It’s part of the surprise.” Sylvus leans down and scoops me into a bridal carry.
I cling to him, and he carries me to the kitchen.
Wavering light fills the room. A lit candle sits on the table, casting out a floral fragrance. Petals surround it.
