Chapter Text
Jill remembered the first time Wesker bathed her. It was hot on that day and, thanks to the bath he’d run, humid inside the residence they shared. Those days were foggy and she remembered them as she were removed from the situation; not unlike an out of body experience.
If she were to tell the truth, the water felt amazing as it eased the ache in her sore muscles and joints; the bubbles on the surface made the water smell pleasant but did nothing to ease her mind. She felt infantilized, having to be bathed by him. But three days of sweating thanks to the lack of air conditioning and the thin layer of dust and dirt that seemed to constantly cling to her meant there was some part of her that was thankful to be clean.
The tiny waves licked at her body. She found herself looking down and wondering dimly if the water was making her skin look lighter. The heat soothed her joints and muscles. It would have been more relaxing had he not been sitting beside the tub, fingers dipped just below the surface of the gray-tinted bath water.
His hands felt strangely cool against the skin of her back as he washed her. They felt rough against her sensitive skin. It was a strange feeling. She couldn’t deny that his movements seemed gentle and caring. But every time he touched her it made her skin crawl, made her stomach churn.
She didn’t know how long she had spent in the bath when Wesker had her perch on the side of the tub. Her fingers were pruney, but she clasped the edge of the porcelain to keep herself from slipping back inside.
“Spread your legs.” He murmured. She did. She watched as he smeared a thick substance over the curls between her thighs. They were lighter than she remembered, too, kind of a silvery white. She cast her eyes up to the fluorescent light above her, wondering if it was that causing the strange coloring.
The next time she looked down, the older man was dragging a pale blue razor over her public hair. He dipped the tip of it in the water, using his thumb in a downward motion to rid the blade of the stray hairs. He dragged it over the same spot again carefully. She could hear the plastic encasing the blades as it dragged against her skin.
Jill couldn’t deny that this was erotic. The way his brow furrowed and he pursed his lips as he focused. His palm gripped against her bare thigh, holding her still as he groomed her. She couldn’t help the way her body was reacting; heat was rising in her core. She wished it was a lover, a man she actually had feelings for, not her captor.
He didn’t shave all of it, leaving behind a small patch of hair. She was thankful for that; she hated the look of a completely shaven mound. She breathed out softly as he wiped the remainder of the cream from her skin with a hot cloth. He made slow, gentle movements. It seemed so unlike him.
Next came her legs. He rubbed the cream on her right leg, massaging it lightly into the skin before palming the razor again. He pressed it against her skin, taking long but slow strokes. He took extra care not to cut her around her ankles and her knees.
“This is how I want you to prepare yourself for me.” He murmured as he finished the other leg, again wiping the excess with the wet cloth. “You will be shaving twice a week.”
Jill nodded. As though I have a choice, she thought bitterly.
“Yes, sir.”