Standard disclaimer applies: This story contains fictional depictions of erotic and vulgar scenarios, so if it's immoral for you to be reading it, please avoid it! All characters are at least eighteen, all situations are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to any real-life situations is entirely coincidental.
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The bathwater steamed, eager to burn away the day's torments. Ned had eased his battered body into the tub, grimacing as heat lanced through sharp creases along years of toned muscle.
This felt no different from a hotspring, and within it, a man could find a different kind of victory. One measured not in blood spilled but in the slow unwinding of his mind coiled too tight for too long.
A good bath was all he wished for, only to birth Tinsley from between his thighs.
"Fine," he muttered, "let's get this over with."
As he began to scrub her back, Tinsley let out a moan that was equal parts pleasure and pain. "Harder," she demanded, her voice husky. "Really dig in there."
Ned complied, not that he has a choice. A promise was a promise, and although they could be broken, he didn't want to try.
His grimaced as he felt the loofah's hooks catching on her skin. But the harder he scrubbed, the more Tinsley seemed to enjoy it. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, until Ned was sure the entire building could hear them.
"Yes, yes!" Tinsley cried out, her body shuddering. "Just like that, Ned. You're so good at this!"
"Christ, Tinsley, keep it down," Ned hissed, glancing nervously at the door. "The whole bloody building's gonna think we're... you know."
Tinsley giggled, a sound that sent chills down Ned's spine. "Oh, let them think what they want. This is our special time, Ned. Just you and me."
Ned grimaced, scrubbing harder in hopes of finishing sooner. "Yeah, real special. Nothing says bonding like a forced bath time."
"Don't be such a grump," Tinsley pouted, twisting to look at him over her shoulder. "I know you're enjoying this. Your heart rate's increased by 17%, and your pupils are dilated 22% more than usual. Classic signs of arousal."
Caught red-handed, Ned nearly dropped the loofah. "How the fuck do you know that?"
Tinsley's grin was manic. "Oh, I notice everything about you, Ned. It's fascinating, really. Did you know your left earlobe is exactly 2.3 millimeters longer than your right? Or that you have a tiny birthmark shaped like Australia on your right buttock?"
Ned felt his face heat up, and not from the warm water. "That's... that's not normal, Tinsley. You can't just... measure people without their knowledge."
"Normal is boring," Tinsley sang, turning back around. "Now keep scrubbing. You missed a spot just below my left shoulder blade."
Ned complied with a sigh, if only to shut her up. But Tinsley wasn't done.
"You know," she continued, her voice taking on a dreamy quality, "I've counted every hair on your head. 127,384 as of this morning. You lost three in the shower yesterday. Don't worry, though. I saved them."
Ned felt bile rising in his throat. "That's disgusting, Tinsley. And more than a little creepy."
"Creepy? No, no, no. It's love, Ned. Pure, unadulterated love." Tinsley's voice dropped to a whisper. "I know everything about you. The way your nose twitches 0.5 seconds before you sneeze. How your left eye squints 6% more than your right when you're confused. The exact shade of red your ears turn when you're embarrassed - it's Pantone 186C, by the way."
Ned's scrubbing slowed as the full weight of Tinsley's obsession settled over him. This wasn't just some quirky behavior or harmless crush. This was full-blown, batshit insanity. This wasn't what he had in mind for boinkboink. To get eaten by a savage.
"Tinsley," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady, "I think maybe we should talk to someone about this. A therapist, maybe. Or a priest. Possibly an exorcist."
Tinsley whirled around, tits thrice thicker than her bust caused water to slosh over the sides of the tub. Her eyes, magnified by the scuba mask, were wide and mad. "Talk to someone? Why? So they can try to keep us apart? No, no, no. That won't do at all."
She lunged forward, her small hands gripping Ned's shoulders with surprising strength. "You're mine, Ned. All mine. And I'm going to keep you safe from everyone and everything. Even if I have to lock you away where no one else can ever see you again."
Ned tried to pull away, but Tinsley's grip was like iron. "That's not love, Tinsley. That's imprisonment."
"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," Tinsley giggled, her nails digging into Ned's skin. "Now, it's my turn to wash you. And I'm going to count every single one of your pores while I do it."
As Tinsley began to scrub, her touch alternating between gentle caresses and rough scrapes, Ned felt a cold dread settle in his gut. He was trapped in a bathtub with a pint-sized lunatic who knew more about his body than he did. And worst of all? His cock was about to split from exertion.
'I'm so fucked,' Ned thought, closing his eyes to feel Tinsley's hands roamed over his skin. 'And a way I'm not so sure about.'
"Oh, Ned," Tinsley cooed, her breath hot against his ear, "did you know your heart beats exactly 72 times per minute when you're relaxed? Right now, it's at 108. You must be really enjoying this."
'Damn, how does she do it?!' Ned gritted his teeth, trying to think of anything but the feel of Tinsley's hands on his body. Else, his balls might blow up. "That's fear, you nutter. Pure, unadulterated fear."
Tinsley's laugh echoed off the bathroom tiles. "Fear, excitement, arousal - it's all the same to the body, really. But don't worry, I'll teach you the difference. We have all the time in the world, after all."
'Hey system, is there something similar to boinkboink status but does the direct opposite, like deflating Tinsley's obsession towards me?' Ned asked, not really hopeful. The thought of something like an obsession switch felt ridiculous even for a supposed system.
[I'm afraid there isn't. At this point, 'user' is well and truly FUCKED.]
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