It's a gradual process

The next morning, you wake up alone in a bed. Last night almost feels like a dream, but the stink of stale sweat and cum in the bedsheets proves otherwise.

You roll out of bed and stumble, still naked, into the bathroom across the hall. Your half-asleep brain expects the room to be warm, humid, fragrant with the usual smell of Carrie's shampoo and body oils, but no. She's not here, and it's obvious that she hasn't been here this morning. Your cock swells a little at this sign of obedience as you brush your hair and teeth over the sink.

Once you've freshened up, you go back to the bedroom to tug on some sweat pants before heading downstairs. The smell hits you before you reach the kitchen--Carrie's actually cooking breakfast? Between her daily ablutions, her sunrise yoga routines, and her early morning classes, she usually only has time for a quick granola or yogurt cup, leaving you to fend for yourself. Today, though, there's a sizzling skillet on the stove and there she stands in front of it.

Her hair's a fluffy mess, stray bit poking this way and that. She's wearing a tank top, and the light is glinting greasily off her bare shoulders and arms. Her legs, sticking out of a comfortable but tiny pair of shorts, are already beginning to prickle with dark specks of stubble. When she takes a step to one side, you can even see that the soles of her feet, usually pale and soft, are dark with accumulated dust.

"I didn't know what else to do with all my free time, so I went ahead and started cooking," she laughs. "Have a seat, babe, it's almost ready!"

"You're really serious about this," you half-say, half-ask as you sit at the table, eyeing your unkempt girlfriend.

"I'm as serious as you are," she shrugs, peeking over her shoulder. "I want to do whatever you want me to do, be whatever you want me to be. "

She smiles, and her usually perfect teeth are duller than usual. When she serves you your plate, she stands a little awkwardly beside you, her arms behind her back as if presenting herself.

"Is there anything you'd like to... inspect?" she asks, and you thing you hear a bit of lust in her voice.