Chapter 16: The Shower Stall
The taste from the stairwell lingered for days. It became a phantom flavor on her tongue, surfacing at odd moments: during the bland, lumpy oatmeal at breakfast, in the silent hour of rest therapy, as she lay awake listening to Georgina’s soft, drugged snoring. It was a secret she carried in her mouth, a slick, shameful truth.
She began swallowing the pill. The small green capsule went down with a gulp of tepid water under Nurse Valarie’s watchful eye. It was a concession, a bargaining chip. Lisa demanded presence of mind, and Susanna, against every instinct of self-preservation, obeyed. The world took on a muffled quality, a layer of cotton wool between her brain and her nerves, but the core of her remained alert, waiting, hyper-aware of Lisa’s movements.
The morning shower was a ritual of attempted erasure. The water, as hot as she could bear, was meant to scour the feeling of Lisa’s hands from her skin, the memory of her commands from her mind. The communal bathroom was empty at this hour, just after the dawn meds call. Steam thickened the air, condensing on the cracked green tiles and fogging the long mirror above the sinks. The only sounds were the hiss of her showerhead and the distant, eternal drip from a faulty tap two stalls down.
She let the water pound her shoulders, her head bowed. She was soaping her arms when the vinyl curtain, grimy and streaked with mildewy shadows, rustled. A cold draft slithered across her wet skin before a body pressed against her from behind.
Susanna froze. The soap slipped from her fingers, thudding on the linoleum.
“You thought you could hide from me in here?” Lisa’s voice was a low vibration against her ear, barely audible over the water. Her body was naked, slick, and hotter than the spray. Her breasts flattened against Susanna’s spine, her nipples hard points of contact. One hand anchored on Susanna’s wet hip, fingers digging in. The other slid around her front, across her slippery stomach, and down.
There was no preamble. No teasing exploration. Lisa’s hand cupped her cunt, a possessive, grinding hold. Then two fingers were inside her, pushing past her entrance with a brutal, effortless glide. The water made the invasion obscenely smooth, a wet, yielding slide that stole her breath.
“Fuck,” Susanna gasped, her hands slapping against the cold tile wall for balance.
Lisa’s fingers curled, a cruel, knowing hook. She set a hard, deep rhythm immediately, each thrust a jolt that travelled up Susanna’s spine. Her thumb found Susanna’s clit, a relentless, circling pressure.
“You’re still so tight for me,” Lisa hissed, her mouth against the dripping nape of Susanna’s neck. “Even with your little pills. Your body remembers. It knows who owns this cunt.”
Susanna’s forehead rested against the tile. The steam was suffocating. Pleasure, sharp and chemical-edged from the medication, coiled in her gut. It was different from the stairwell—less a wildfire, more a deep, spreading intoxication. Her hips began to move, fucking herself back onto Lisa’s hand, a slow, involuntary roll. A moan crawled up her throat.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Lisa grunted. Her own breathing was coming faster now, ragged puffs against Susanna’s skin. “Give it up. Let me feel you.”
The orgasm built like a flood behind a failing dam. It was less violent than the last, but deeper, more pervasive, a warm, claiming wave that turned her muscles to liquid. She came with a choked cry, her internal muscles clamping rhythmically around Lisa’s driving fingers. Lisa didn’t stop. She fucked her through the pulses, prolonging the sensation until it tipped into a shuddering, oversensitive ache.
Only then did she withdraw her hand. She spun Susanna around roughly by the shoulder. The water streamed over their faces, a curtain of liquid noise. Lisa’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. There was a raw, hungry look in them that Susanna hadn’t seen before—less like triumph, more like need.
Without a word, Lisa dropped to her knees on the wet, dirty floor. Her hands gripped the backs of Susanna’s thighs, yanking her closer. Then she buried her face between her legs.
Her tongue was a flat, hot stroke against Susanna’s sensitive flesh. It plunged into her, lapping at the mixed taste of soap, water, and her own lingering arousal. It was a claiming of a different kind. Primal. Devouring. Lisa’s mouth was hungry, her tongue working in furious, intimate circles, then spearing inside her again. One hand came up, thumb pressing hard on Susanna’s clit while her tongue fucked her.
“Oh, God… Lisa…” Susanna’s hands flew to Lisa’s wet head, not pushing her away, but tangling in the blonde strands, holding on. Her knees buckled. Lisa held her up, the strength in her arms terrifying.
The second orgasm ripped through her, a shocking, electric convulsion that made her cry out sharply, the sound echoing off the tiles. Her body bowed, shaking. Lisa drank from her, a low, satisfied groan vibrating against her until the last tremor subsided.
Slowly, Lisa pulled back. She rested her forehead against Susanna’s trembling stomach for a moment, breathing heavily. Then she looked up, water beading on her eyelashes. The hunger was still there, but overlaid with something else—a vulnerability so fleeting Susanna almost doubted she’d seen it.
Lisa stood up in one fluid motion. She reached past Susanna, turned off the shower. The sudden silence was deafening, punctuated only by the drip-drip-drip from the other stall and the sound of their breathing.
They stood there, naked and dripping in the stagnant steam. Lisa picked up a discarded, threadbare towel and wiped her face. She handed it to Susanna.
“You taste different on the Thorazine,” Lisa said, her voice oddly casual, almost observational. “A little bitter. Like almonds.”
Susanna wrapped the towel around herself, shivering. She didn’t know what to say. Thank you? Go to hell?
Lisa was already pulling her own scrubs back on over her damp skin. “Group therapy’s in twenty. Valarie’s running it. She’s a sanctimonious cunt. Don’t say anything interesting.” She glanced at Susanna, that old smirk returning, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Then again, you never do.”
She pushed the curtain aside and was gone. The vinyl swayed behind her.
Susanna stood alone in the stall. The water on the floor was cooling around her feet. She could still feel the ghost of Lisa’s tongue, the imprint of her teeth. The claimed feeling was deeper now, seeped into her marrow. But for the first time, she had seen a crack in the fortress of Lisa’s control. A glimpse of the need that drove the possession.
It wasn’t comforting. It was more dangerous than any command hissed in a dark stairwell. A vulnerable predator was the most unpredictable kind.
She dressed mechanically. In the fogged mirror, her own reflection was a pale, blurred ghost. She leaned closer, wiping a clear circle with the heel of her hand. Her eyes looked back, wide and dark. Not cloudy. Not anymore.
She had swallowed the pill. She was present. And she was now, irrevocably, not just Lisa’s secret, but perhaps, in some twisted way, her keeper too. The realization landed in her gut, cold and heavy as a stone. The game had just changed, and she didn’t know the new rules.