Nikki lay face down on the bed, her top pulled up to expose her damaged back and shoulders.
“Does that hurt?” Shaura asked. She was washing Nikki’s back with a rag dipped in a basin of water. She had ointment and antibiotic cream with which to treat the ugly wounds once she finished cleaning them, and fresh bandages to further protect Nikki’s damaged flesh. The stripes were looking better today. They were not as red and inflamed as they were two days ago—the ointment and cream were helping. She would have scars, maybe ten, each about six inches long, crisscrossing her upper back, but she would survive. The majority of the damage done with the short whip had not been severe; the majority of minor welts had subsided by the day after her beating at the hands of Carlos’ thugs. Now, only the ten deepest cuts remained. The swelling of her bruised face was gone, as was the worst of the discoloration. The yellowish-green tint that began below her left eye, spread across her left cheek and faded into the hairline near her temple was nearly unnoticeable. Her left eye still had traces of blood in the sclera, but that too was being reabsorbed.
“Not too badly,” Nikki said, honestly. “It’s getting better, I can tell.”
“I think so, too,” Shaura agreed as she applied the cream. Then, she carefully bandaged Nikki’s back and helped pull her top down over the bulky wrappings.
With her wounds cleaned and freshly bandaged, Nikki sat up and smiled at the doctor. “Thanks, Doc. No telling what shape I’d be in, if not for you.”
Shaura looked around at their accommodations. “Oh, I think you’d be fine. I get the impression that our ‘host’ rather fancies you, if you haven’t noticed.”
Nikki grimaced sourly, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” She demonstrated by standing, making a slow turn in front of the full-length mirror, and admiring herself. Her clothes were fresh and expensive; far better than what she arrived wearing. The clingy silk top hung off her shoulders, accentuating the swell of her breasts. Her bandages prevented her from wearing a brassiere—not that it mattered, since there was not one available for her to wear anyway. She found the matching slacks very comfortable and sexy.
There were other clothes as well, for both of them. In a large armoire, they had causal wear, swimwear, and even two elegant evening dresses, one for each of them, which had been delivered the previous day.
Shaura removed the washbasin and first aid supplies from the nightstand and placed them on the table by the door. Servants would retrieve them later.
Then, together, they walked across the marble floor to the open balcony. They stepped back out into the sunlight and sat on chaise lounges. Shaura reclined, and opened the robe she wore to reveal her new designer swimsuit. She relaxed and put her sunglasses back on. This was not at all what they expected when they arrived two days ago. The doctor shuddered as she recalled the events that led up to their arrival at La Araña’s lair.
* * * *
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish