Novel & Cerita Bathhouse Stories

Finally, they got to the bathhouse. About thirty women, including teenagers, were already inside-stripping off worn fabrics, washing, scrubbing their skin. Most looked exhausted, with sores and bruises scattered across their bodies. The younger ones huddled near the edge of the pool, their eyes darting nervously to the guards stationed along every wall-at least thirty of them-armed and alert. There were no corners to hide in, and no escape routes. Aria looked around, irritated.

I wish I could just die first. "There is a big hollow in my memories. Why can't I still remember everything? Please, there may be other beautiful things left in my life. Oh, please. Bring my memories back. I want to know who I was. ." I said as I was crying. **** Nighttime came, and I was taken to the bathhouse where concubines usually bathe. There was an extremely large, round, warm pool of water made of white marble and taps inside the bathhouse. There was a marble table with soap, perfume, and fruits. Why do they put bowls of fruit in the bath house?

Xolvion said as he took a seat on the edge, extending his arms and leaning his head back on the backrest, sinking into the water and letting its warmth heal him. It didn't take long for the others to show up looking for him, watching in marvel at the amazing bathhouse, with Luna having never seen anything like it. "Oh, hello girls, don't be shy the water is just right." He said, not even bothering to look at them while he relaxed. "Amazing master... Did you do this too?" Luna asked, looking at the detail in the carvings of the lion's heads. "It certainly is exquisite," Zoranna said, not wasting any time in stripping off her clothing and allowing her breasts to hang free.

But they try to get in here, I’m not down with that. I had a ton of questions burning on my lips, the journalist side of me absolutely on edge and desperate for answers. I was all but ready to blurt out fifty things, but the look on Lenox’s face absolutely said he wasn’t in the mood to talk. I closed my eyes as Weston came in, sitting on the other side of me and washing my shoulder. I had rarely seen a tub this big be freestanding, not against a wall or anything. But as I looked around the bathroom I noticed quite a few unique touches.

she added and began walking down the stairs. As we all shuffled outside towards an even bigger house, I felt hungry male eyes roaming over us. It made me uncomfortable to be looked at like a piece of streak that their wolves wanted to gnaw on. We walked into the building and I almost tumbled over. The bathhouse is so luxurious that it almost hurt my eyes to look at. Gold-plated floors, cream-colored walls, fine art lining every possible space along the walls. Gold everything. The girls whispered excitedly, covering their mouths with their hands, giggling.

Sebastion took my bag from me, and tossed both of them into our bedroom door. Silently we walked down the hall. I trailed my fingers down the dirty tan wall. My nail left a trail as it peeled of the dry paint. The scratching noise continued until we reached the end of the hall, approaching a single oak door. Sebastion, being a gentleman, opened the door. Steam rolled out and into the hall, almost as if it beckoned us to join it. Eagerly we entered the bath house, the door closing behind us. It was a large room, with a giant pool about waist deep. The interior of the pool was white with stairs going around the wall. Steam rose from the waters surface, beckoning and welcoming. I stripped off m

Am I one of those whores now? I’ve heard enough rumours and stories about the wants of human men, my mind immediately assumes shifters are ten times more depraved. The more possibilities I considered the more rapid my breathing became, my hands began trembling all over again. Martha saw my flustering panic and said soothingly, “it is a women only bathhouse at this time of day, designed to aid your recovery dear. You shall be brought back here after…if that is acceptable?”

The bathhouse didn't have a sign. Just a red light above a black door and stairs going down into the dark. Soren had been here twice before. Both times he'd chickened out—let some stranger jerk him off in a corner and left with his heart pounding. Not tonight. Three weeks since his breakup. Three weeks of his own hand and his own thoughts and his own apartment closing in on him. Tonight he needed skin. He needed heat. He needed to be touched by someone who wasn't himself.

He was able to open his eyes, and slowly, they adjusted. Staring back at Sam were the startled faces of dozens of people. Most sat inside small pools, individual baths, while others walked around, barefoot on the stone floor. They were all naked. That was when Sam realized: he was inside a bathhouse. A Roman bathhouse. The ceilings were high and arched, letting in the light, and there were large arched columns all throughout. The floors were a shining marble, and small pools filled the vast room. People lazed about, apparently relaxing.

Because the bathroom is where people tend to put all the most private and personal things that they need and always use. I know all this from experience: Aisha’s bathroom has this gigantic glass-encased closet thing that has all her skin and hair products arranged according to whichever she feels like using for the month. She changes her look every few weeks, so she tends to accumulate stuff. Colin’s bathroom at the Montagne el’Varel main residence (he still lives with his Lord Sycarus because elves aren’t big on moving about) has a five-foot deep bathing pool and if you check the cupboards, you’ll find a collection of bath salts, various soaps and scrubs, and bubble solutions. Colin is prob