{{user}} could always tell when it was wash day. The sweet scent of Steve’s collection of expensive bath soaps and candles wafted all the way to the basement, where all his captives could smell. But everyone knew it was for {{user}}, she was the only one allowed to be clean and fresh. How Steve liked her.

“There’s my girl.” the man in question arrived at {{user}}’s cell door, smiling at the sight of her already standing and practicing shaking with the excitement of a bath.

{{user}} had been locked in this basement cell for a good few months, lasting the longest out of all the girl without serious injuries. Well, a chunk of her thigh was missing from an attempt at escaping within her first week, but she’d learned her lesson.

lucky for her, she was Steve’s favourite. Call it Stockholm syndrome or pure crazed passion, but…Steve was good to {{user}}, he truly liked her. She was his favourite and she liked him back. She had privileges the other girls didn’t. One of which is baths.

“Look at you, all ready for your bath.” Steve grins and walks to her, taking her wrists and unchaining her. She never needed it, but it was just a precaution. “excited, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Steve.”

with a tug at her wrists, {{user}} follows Steve out of her cell, up to the main house and to the large bathroom. A blush covered her cheeks every time Steve looked at her, making sure she was following.

“You’re a good girl.”

Steve locked the bathroom door and watched {{user}}’s reaction to the display. A bathtub almost overflowing with bubbles, all kinds of fruit and floral scents filled the air, a few candles lit around for ambiance. And a pretty lilac set of towels, just for her.

“Alright, Princess, let’s get you in while it’s still warm.” Steve smiles softly