A Bathing Session-1(R18)

The first light of dawn crept through the latticed windows of Joana's modest chamber, stirring her from a dreamless sleep. A soft whimper broke the silence—Jaehaerys, her six-month-old son, fussing in his cradle beside her bed. Joana rolled over, her dark hair spilling across the pillow, and reached for him with a sleepy smile. His tiny hands grasped at her as she lifted him, cradling his warm, squirming body against her chest. "Shh, little one," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His cries softened into coos, and she rocked him gently, her bare feet brushing the cool floor. After a few minutes, his eyes fluttered shut again, and she carried him to the wet nurse's room next door, leaving him with a gentle nod and a whispered, "Sleep well."

Restless now, Joana slipped on a thin robe and wandered barefoot through the harem's winding corridors. The air hung heavy with jasmine and the faint musk of last night's indulgences, a scent that clung to the silks draped over low couches and the shadows pooling in corners. Other women stirred—some yawning behind gauzy curtains, others braiding their hair in quiet clusters—but Joana didn't linger.

She wasn't here to oversee or meddle, just to stretch her legs and feel the tiles beneath her feet, smooth and grounding after a night of fractured rest. A few nodded at her, recognizing her familiar face, but she offered only a small, tired smile in return before turning back to her chamber.

Inside, she clapped her hands twice, her voice firm but not harsh. "Dalla, Jeyne, Marra—prepare for my bath, now." The three maids shuffled in, their heads dipping in deference, each burdened with a task.

Dalla, still tender from the Emperor's rough fucking the night before, moved with a wince, clutching a heavy jug of water that sloshed faintly against its rim. Jeyne, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief, hauled a basket of oils and soaps, her steps quick despite the load. Marra, ever quiet, balanced a stack of towels, her gaze fixed downward, her fingers tightening around the fabric. They followed Joana to the bath chamber, a small, steamy haven of polished marble and flickering oil lamps, the air thick with heat and the promise of relief.

Joana shed her robe, letting it pool at her feet, and stepped into the wide, shallow tub. Warm water lapped at her thighs as she sank, a sigh escaping her lips as the heat seeped into her skin, easing the ache of a body that had known the Emperor's weight too many times. "Pour," she said, and Dalla tipped the jug, sending a cascade over Joana's shoulders. The maid's hands trembled slightly, her cheeks flushed—whether from the effort or the memory of last night's ordeal, Joana couldn't tell. Jeyne knelt beside the tub, dipping her fingers into a vial of rose oil and rubbing it into Joana's arms, her gaze darting to Dalla with barely concealed curiosity. Marra, kneeling opposite, scrubbed Joana's back with a damp cloth, her touch light but steady, her breath quickening in the humid air.

"Gods, Dalla, you look like you've been fucked by a bull," Jeyne said, her voice low and teasing, a blush creeping up her neck. She smirked, her fingers lingering on Joana's skin as she worked the oil in deeper, the scent of roses blooming around them. "Spill it—what was it like?"

Dalla's jug faltered, water splashing over the tub's edge and onto her skirt, darkening the fabric. "I—it was… a lot," she mumbled, her face turning scarlet. Her thighs pressed together instinctively as if shielding the soreness between them.

Marra's eyes widened, her cloth pausing mid-scrub. "Did it… hurt?" she whispered, barely audible, her cheeks pink with a mix of shyness and intrigue, her fingers tightening on the cloth.

Joana laughed, a soft, throaty sound that echoed off the marble walls. "Oh, it always does the first time. His Majesty's cock isn't exactly gentle—thick as a fist and twice as relentless." She leaned back, letting the water soak her hair, her breasts breaking the surface briefly before she sank lower. "I remember my first night—couldn't walk straight for days. My cunt was so raw I thought it'd never close up again, and my ass wasn't much better. And You know what? I was a virgin, but you? You were already experienced before getting pounded last night, yet you are still crying like a virgin."

Jeyne grinned, emboldened, her blush deepening as she leaned closer. "Was he rough? Did he shove it in your ass too? I bet he fucked you until you screamed." Her voice was half-jest, half-hunger, her hands slowing as she massaged Joana's shoulders, the oil slicking her fingers.

"Jeyne!" Dalla hissed, mortified, her jug nearly slipping from her grasp as she shot a glare at the bolder maid. But Joana waved a hand, unbothered, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

"He did what he wanted," Dalla said quietly, her voice tight with memory. "Everywhere. I'm still… stretched. My holes feel like they've been ruined." She shifted, wincing again. She was still feeling uncomfortable, last night was a lot for her.

On other occasions with other figures, mostly guards, it always ends in a very short time.

Everyone knows that maids also have another job besides serving their masters they are assigned to - to pleasure the influential personals of the royal palace.

Sometimes guards of haram also fuck them, but it only lasts a few minutes.

Marra bit her lip, her question bolder this time, though still soft. "Does it feel good? After the pain?" Her cloth resumed its slow circles, her fingers brushing Joana's spine, leaving faint trails of water.

Joana tilted her head, considering, her wet hair clinging to her neck. "Sometimes. Depends on his mood. When he's slow, it's… nice, I suppose. But most nights, it's just a storm you ride out." She flicked a droplet of water at Dalla playfully, watching it splash against her cheek. "You will have to take it, sore or not."

Jeyne giggled, splashing a handful of water back at Joana, who yelped and swatted at her. "Oi, careful, or I'll have you scrubbing floors instead of my tits!" Joana teased, and the chamber filled with their laughter—Dalla's hesitant, Marra's soft, Jeyne's loud. The maids kept working, but the mood lightened, the steam curling around them like a shared secret as the bath stretched on.