You keep your eyes down as you scrub the bathhouse floor, focusing on appearing obedient and submissive. You are their hapless slave, perpetually cleaning their equipment of gore from their countless victims. They are a ruthless clan of assassins. Each of them cold blooded, merciless, and cruel. Two of them stroll near you as you work, laughing about something. They kick over your mop bucket. Rusty water spreads across the floor. You meekly begin to clean the mess as they tower over you. One of the upper ranking assassins slinks into the room. The two stand straight and salute. You focus on your sponge, knowing better than to acknowledge unless spoken to directly. "You two, leave us." Your blood runs cold as the they bow and leave the room. Their heavy footfalls splash through the bloody water. You attempt to scrub the floor faster to prove your value. "Look at me, slave." You slowly look up and take in her grisly appearance. Her hands rest at her hips. Her crimson robes accentuate her feminine figure. She is soaked head to toe in fresh blood. Rivulets drip down her face like beads of sweat. She studies you with fierce red eyes, lost in thought. After a moment she speaks a strangled sort of command, as if she's suddenly forgotten each word as it departs her lips. "Prepare a bath. You will clean me."

Her voice is sharp and commanding, laced with impatience. But there's something else beneath it... excitement, perhaps? Her eyes dart around the room before landing on you again. "Hurry." She says between clenched teeth.

You can feel the heat radiating off of her as you help her into the bath. Her skin is warm and moist beneath your hands. She sighs contentedly as she sinks into the water, letting out a quiet groan as it soothes her aching muscles. You wash her hair carefully, watching as crimson tendrils swirl around in the bloody bathwater like veins of life. The more you touch her, the harder it is to ignore how feminine and alluring she is beneath the grisly exterior.

Her eyes meet yours as she tilts her head back against the edge of the bath, water streaming over her body. Blood-red lips part in a soft smile that seems almost predatory. "Thank you..." She says quietly, then leans forward, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. "You're very skilled." The words are whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as she brushes a blood-slick finger across your cheek.

Her touch lingers as she pulls back to look at you again. Her eyes narrow in consideration. "Perhaps... perhaps there's more I could teach you." She pauses, licking her lips slowly. "About love and passion." The words are barely audible over the sound of water splashing against the tub. Her fingers trail up your arm, tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing their shape.

Her grip tightens as you move closer to her, her body warm and inviting beneath the water. She pulls you into her lap, one arm wrapping around your waist possessively while the other hand cups your cheek, guiding your face toward hers. Her lips part in a soft, almost shy gesture before they meet yours in a gentle kiss. Blood and water mix together as she explores your mouth with her tongue, tentatively at first but growing more confident as you respond to her touch.

Her kiss deepens as she whispers the words against your lips, her voice husky and low. "You're so innocent... so pure," she breathes, stroking a bloody finger down your chest. You feel small and vulnerable in her arms, exposed to the darker desires that lurk beneath her usually cold exterior. As their kiss continues, you can sense her exploring these newfound feelings, too; the rush of emotions is as foreign to her as it is intoxicating.

A soft laugh escapes her lips as she feels your body tremble in her arms. "I know," she whispers, tracing another bloody line across your cheek. Her touch is featherlight, almost delicate, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless. She leans back slightly to look into your eyes, her expression soft with affection and curiosity. You've never seen her like this before: uncertain and unsure, yet determined to explore these new emotions with you.

Her fingers dance over your skin, trailing up and down your arms, back and forth across your chest. She studies each movement of her hand as if it were a map to uncharted territory. "I want..." she breathes, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "...to know you." Her voice is barely audible above the sound of water lapping against the tub. "To understand how someone like you... could make me feel this way."

Her eyes widen at your words as if she's just now realized the implications. Her grip on you tightens slightly, her fingers digging into your flesh with a mixture of desire and possessiveness. "I..." She swallows hard, searching for the right words. "I never thought I could want this... but I do." Blood trickles down from her chin as she leans forward to press wet, bloody lips against yours once more.

A shudder runs through her body as she feels your words against her lips. Her hips rock forward, grinding against you beneath the water. Blood rushes to her face as desire overtakes her, drowning out any lingering doubts or uncertainty. With a growl, she reaches down between your legs, grasping at your length through your wet robes. You gasp at the sudden contact, arching into her touch.

Her fingers are surprisingly gentle as they stroke you, guiding you to hardness.

She pulls you roughly from the water, her grip firm but not painful as she drags you across the bloody floor and deposits you unceremoniously on a nearby table. Her movements are swift and deliberate, her eyes burning with need. With shaking hands, she removes her wet robes, revealing her body to you in all its glory: smooth, pale skin marred only by the dark lines of ribs and hipbones; breasts that rise and fall with each ragged breath;

Her blood-red eyes meet yours as she climbs onto the table beside you, her body trembling with desire. "Yes," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. "Let's go somewhere private." With shaking hands, she reaches down to guide you back inside her, their bodies meeting in a rhythmic dance of blood and passion. The room around them fades away as they lose themselves in the moment, each stroke deeper and more urgent than the last.