The Great Cleanup - стр. 17
Nodding in agreement, the ladies approached her, removed the towels, held her elbows again and helped her into the first bath:
“Be careful, three steps here…”
Anna quietly entered the white warm liquid, feeling its softness and a pleasant milky odour. As she descended to the bottom and submerged herself all the way up to the chin, she felt another wave of pleasure rolling over her body. Feeling a ledge, she sat down on it, throwing her head back onto a dedicated head rest. Within less than a minute she was completely relaxed and just zoned out, like Herman back at the motorcycle.
But Anna remained asleep just a few seconds. She shuddered from a sudden thought: “Perhaps this is not milk at all, but yet another narcotic? I have no idea where I am and why.” She remembered the white dart, stuck in the strong arm of her saviour. After glancing at the girls, who were again reclining in the armchairs and looking through magazines, she scooped up a handful of the liquid and tasted it. It did, indeed, appear to be whole milk.
The redhead actually noticed that Anna tasted the liquid in the bath, reading it in her own way:
“Rest assured it's fresh.”
“Morning milking,” the mulatto added, her eyes still on her magazine, “We bathed in the evening one ourselves after the sunset…”
Anna gradually relaxed again and, once more, felt herself falling asleep. Yet she did not like the idea of nodding off in someone else's bath, so she decided she's done with the very pleasant milk and stood up, white drops trickling down her body.
At once the ladies sprang up, helping her move over into the next pool. Then they went back to their armchairs and magazines and kept silently reading, or perhaps gazing at pictures.
The content of the next bath resembled some kind of liquid dirt. Anna cautiously stepped into the slippery substance and descended into it up to her shoulders. Yet the smell in the bath was quite pleasant, even somewhat dizzying. Again Anna could not refrain from tasting the thick liquid, and again this would not escape the redhead's notice.
“Dark Swiss chocolate,” the girl remarked.
The mulatto, all in her magazine again, bragged:
“We bathed in Belgian chocolate the day before yesterday…”
Anna would hardly be able to discern the country of origin of liquid chocolate. Belgian, Dutch, Russian… She would enjoy it just the same as the Swiss chocolate now. She was all warm, tasty, very pleasant to the touch and to the thought of the diversity of bathing…
Next they were washing the chocolate off her in the third bath, the one with champagne.
“Crystal Brut,” the redhead informed.
“French,” the mulatto explained.
This third bath was not just a bath, it was a jet tub. The submerged aerated streams softly crashed into Anna's body. Thousands of bubbles pleasantly tickled her skin. In a couple of minutes Anna seemed, not just to relax, but to get a bit tipsy from the tasty champagne fumes. She was simply drowning in the intoxicating pleasure. She remembered how she met her then-future husband, a bear-like laggard who was the cousin of a girl in her college class. He was even named Teddy.
He waited for her after class and took her to a café close to the college. There he ordered some pastry and a couple of glasses of champagne, offering one to her: