Mud.

There's a convenient ditch full of sticky, squelchy dark green-brown mud in the street nearby, under the dripping eaves of the tavern. You point to it. "Take a mud-bath. Quickly, now."

She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I absolutely will not." Gracefully she slides down the edge of the ditch, immediately sinking up to her ankles in the foul stuff. She sits down, coating herself up to her hips, takes a handful of mud in each hand and begins to rub it through her long, beautiful hair. People gather at the edge of the ditch to watch.

"Good for the skin," you suggest as she lays back down in the mud and slathers it over herself, building a little pyramid of mud between her breasts and fixing you with a look of absolute loathing. "Roll over and rub your face in it. That's a classic, isn't it? Rubbing your face in the mud? Really makes you conscious of your position, doesn't it?"

"Damn you, warlock!" She spits out mud and glares at you, lying flat on her stomach in the ditch. "When I break this spell, I will-"

"Kiss it. Kiss the mud."

You smirk as you watch the gypsy kiss the mud. That's a new one. Now that she's all muddy, what else could you have her do?