"I even have a bath prepared for you..."
Ortega's world stopped. He gasped and turned slowly.
A bath? Was Mae fucking playing him again...
That seemed too good to be true.
He'd been in this store for almost a week. It had zero bathrooms.
"I'll show you," she said.
With that, she turned and left, leaving Ortega with no choice but to follow her.
They took corners he'd never even knew existed.
As she led him to the bathroom, the store started to seem much bigger.
"Here."
She pushed open the door, and the sight inside took Ortega's breath away.
The tiles were clean white. Polished and minimalistic.
The space was small. There was a water closet. Sink and mirror.
Then there was the bathtub.
Ortega swallowed.
He'd never been in one before.
What the hell was happening...
'Twas like the world stopped making sense the moment he fell asleep beside Mae.
Maybe the system would have an idea.
Yeah, he thought. And Mae seemed freakishly weird.
Ortega looked at her, frowning, but she just beamed like this was totally normal.
Reacting won't work...
He needed a clear head if he really wanted to get outta this shit with his sanity intact.
She clasped her palms together, getting his attention.
"If there's anything else you need...
A different soap flavour, towels. I'm a room away."
She winked at him as she left, and Ortega shuddered.
He took off his clothes like they were infected and stood naked in front of the bathtub.
He ran fingers across the water's surface.
Smooth and lukewarm to the touch.
Ortega dipped one leg in first. And then another till he sunk his whole weight in as water splashed on the floor.
Immediately, relief flooded his muscles, and a relaxed smile mapped his face.
Even the lines on his forehead melted as the rosy scent drifted through and calmed his senses.
He lay there. And slowly, the headache reduced.
There was a cocktail by the side, and Ortega picked it up.
All too convenient.
He poured it in the drain.
'Twas a good thing he avoided sweets else he wouldn't be able to resist the sweet fragrance of the drink.
She might have drugged it, by the way.
Knowing her now, that didn't seem far off.
His thoughts got clearer as the headache subsided, and he began to think straight.
He really needed to be careful.
He knew something was wrong from the start.
All the red flags he ignored cause of his stupid hormones.
He should've seen through it all. Mae wasn't normal to begin with.
There was no time to curse past mistakes as the deed had already been done.
Now, he needed a plan and a clear line of purpose.
He got out of the water reluctantly, even as his body cried for him not to.
Ortega couldn't allow himself to get too comfortable.
That was the trap.
He reached for a towel and dried his body.
Feeling good to be refreshed.
He went to the counter and looked at the mirror above the sink.
Then he stood on his toes and opened the compartment where toiletries were kept.
He rummaged through it and found a brush and toothpaste.
Ortega frowned and shuddered.
Again. All too convenient.
But he put his paste on the brush and brushed his teeth in front of the mirror after all.
...good hygiene was needed for his plan to work.
Ortega sighed, mouth fresh, and spat in the sink. A few moments later, he splashed water on his face, toweled his waist down, and was good to go.
He gathered his old clothes, and as he left, he found a dryer and put them in.
It hummed and spun.
He left it behind.
When he got to the main room of the store,
Mae was waving at him from behind the counter.
His food already dished out.
Ortega looked to the door and saw that the sign was still CLOSED.
"Um... Mae?"
"Yes, Ortega?"
"I was wondering, like, why are we still closed?"
A beat. Then she smiled.
"Cause it's Sunday, silly. No one goes grocery shopping on Sundays."
"Right."
He looked down to his steaming bowl of rice drowned in sauce and a mountain of meat.
He couldn't even bring himself to ask how she managed to cook such.
But still...
The aroma was damn tantalizing.
"You'll love it," she said, beaming.
Ortega fumbled with his cutlery, which was a knife and fork. He dropped the fork and changed to a spoon.
Mae watched him, amused.
And somehow...
Ortega couldn't seem to let go of the knife.
It seemed useless with a bowl of rice, but what if...
No. Mae wouldn't be disgusted if he used a knife to eat as though it were a spoon.
That would only make him seem more interesting to her.
He had to be as boring as possible for his plan to work.
Ortega put the knife down, his hand shaking. He picked up the spoon.
"Sorry, it's—" he smiled awkwardly, hoping she'd get it.
Mae didn't. She kept looking at him, anticipating his first bite.
Ortega's shoulders slumped. Why did he have to perform so well...?
He shoveled his first portion into his mouth and chewed.
'Twas an orgasm on his tongue.
'Twas so good and spicy.
How did she know he loved spicy food...?
He devoured it all in a heartbeat.
The meat he especially savoured, as it had been a long time since he'd had any.
He dusted his oily lips with a napkin.
"Thank you," he said. "That was delicious."
"As delicious as me?"
Ortega winced internally.
"Less compared to you, but better than anything I've had to eat from every woman before you. Food and pussy alike."
She blushed. "Stooop."
Ortega was fighting not to cringe at his own words. But it had to be said.
Mae cleared the table and pecked him before she left.
Her lingering scent was still maddening.
'Cause now it suffocated him.
Ortega balled his fists under the table.
She had even taken the damn knife.
Then the door shinged behind him, and he spun.
Of course.
She was going to dispose of the disposable plates outside.
This was his chance.
Before he could get to his feet, however, she had locked the door. Him inside.
Goddamnit.
She winked behind the transparent glass door and walked away.
He could do something still.
He stood up quickly and made for her purse, trying to figure out where she kept it.
He looked around as fast as he could. He hesitated to go into the back room, but he didn't get to.
She was already back.
Ortega froze as the door shinged open behind him and she stepped in.
"Haaah~" she sighed. "Just us at last... Ortega, isn't this wonderful? What would you like to do... Anything. Say anything."
Ortega had never missed his home as much as he did now.
"No, Mae. You've been too kind to me... Let's do what you wanna do."
"Awwn, Ortega, my darling sweetheart. Are you sure..."
Ortega frowned.
"Yes. I'm sure."
He regretted it instantly.
He found himself in her room again.
She gave him handcuffs.
"You want me to cuff you up..."
She gave a languid, bright laugh that grated his ears.
"No, Ortega. I want you to wear them. It's simple. You tie yourself against the bed while I'll be the hot momma who rides you."
She twirled, now naked under her apron.
Ortega glanced at the cufflinks, then at the bed, then at her.
"I'm sorry, but I can't do this."
She didn't seem too downcast. Ortega let out a sigh of relief.
Till he started to feel weird and X-rated images flooded his mind.
The scented oils had a sensual nature about them too, making him salivate hungrily.
And it wasn't for food.
He eyed Mae up and down. She looked fucking delicious, and he was hard as a rock.
What is wrong with me...?
Ortega frowned. Why do I still want to fuck her after all she'd done...
"Good thing I planned backup," she licked her lips.
His vision grew hazy.
"Mae... what the hell is—"
Ortega didn't finish. Darkness took him.