You kick off your shoes, socks, undo your belt, wiggle out of your pants and pop off your boxer-briefs, then finally pull your shirt off and step into the tub with her, wearing nothing but the sapphire that's allowing you to be here in the first place.
Your legs interlock as you both sigh at the touch of the hot water flowing up your skin. You watch as she does her hair; applies an exfoliant to her face; scrubs her arms, chest, torso, crotch and legs.
~Bathe me, too.~ You command.
Conveniently, she performs this task perfectly fine, while still somehow maintaining ignorance as to your actual presence in the room.
"Turn around." She says, uncharacteristically stoically.
You turn around and lean back against her chest. She wraps her legs around you and begins pouring water on your hair to get it wet.
"How are you?" You ask.
No answer is given. So it really is as though Amber is doing this subconsciously.
She performs her entire bath-time routine on you. The shampoo, conditioner, exfoliant, scrubbing the body down, and rinsing.
The tub drained, you get up and are surprised as she takes the towel and begins drying you off, before she starts to consider drying herself. She must consider this part of the 'bathing' process and so has not yet finished the command. The both of you now dry, your attention was caught on the fact that she tied her towel up over her bust, but tied yours down at the waist. This indicates her processing the fact that you are a man and adjusting her service accordingly. In fact, thinking back on it now, she did seem to draw special time and attention to scrubbing the space between your legs, as though she were less familiar with the technique.
Oh, she then blow-dries both of your hairs.
The goosebumps of cold striking both of you as you step back out into the bedroom. You watch as Amber opens her dresser, removes her towel and slips on a pair of turquoise boyshorts, followed by a baggy, gray shirt.
~Dress me up for bed as well.~
With barely a second of pause, she reaches back into the drawer and pulls out an equally baggy, this time green shirt and plomps it down on over you.
"I do not have underwear for you. This will be all that you wear." She says, as stoically as before.
Interesting. Dynamic reactions to commands are possible.
~If my wearing underwear were required for this task, what would you do?~
"I would ask my dad if he has any underwear that is too small for him, because that might fit you. If that did not work, I would get dressed again and go to the store to buy a package of boxer briefs."
~Why didn't you do that initially?~
"Because underwear is optional for nighttime wear, and just putting you in a shirt is easier."
Curiouser and curiouser.