You get cleaned up.

Now left to your own devices, You make your way to the nearest bathroom.

You run the water as hot as you can stand it and step in. After being thrown around against your will for so long, (Nearly a month, you'd guess) It's nice just having some time to yourself. Some time where you don't have to debase your self for the not-so-cheap thrills of some master. It's time you know that will end, but appreciate nonetheless.
Although, it's a little hard to remove yourself from this situation when you're in the shower. Being in here makes you perfectly aware of your body in ways you didn't think of. The hot water streaming down your body, getting into every nook and cranny, every curve outlined in stark detail.
You grab the bar of soap and lather up, scrubbing the spunk and grime off of you. You run your hands all over yourself, starting with the easy parts like your chest and working your way down and around. All of the evidence of Jake's mornings and evenings circling the drain underneath your feet.

Soon, you start to feel it: the heat between your legs. The arousal creeping it's way into the back of your mind. The nagging voice telling you to shove your fingers into your pussy and let go of yourself. The voice that Jake put into your head with **** and technology. The voice of a siren.
It's an alluring concept, letting go. You could be free, in a sense. Wouldn't have to worry, wouldn't have to think, wouldn't have to think about anything other than your Master's cock, the siren says.

But you can't listen. The siren's call leads only to the bottom of the ocean. But it sure sounds nice on the way down, doesn't it?

You end up having to run the shampoo through your hair twice before it really gets clean.
You step out, shut off the water and dry off with the fluffiest towel you've ever held in your life. Seriously, it's really nice.
You look at yourself in the mirror again. Y'know, you look really good when you don't have a months worth of jizz on you.