Things are heating up

”My, my, Lady Wakefield, you seem a bit flustered. Are you not used to a bit of summer heat?" you taunt. Charlene, still attempting to assert herself, replies: "I don't know > hnng < I don’t know what you’re talking about!" She’s trying desperately to disguise what’s already painfully obvious, attempting and failing to exude normalcy. Her legs are starting to become a little shaky, buckling underneath her. Her defiance is punctuated by stiffled moans, the rhythmic pulses of the enchanted stone taking a toll on her composure. Almost subconsciously Charlene’s arms are moving towards her crotch, as she’s become very well aware where the source of her inopportune arousal is located, even as she tries to hide that fact from you.

"Charlene, my dear, you really can't keep your cool, can you?" Charlene attempts to retort, but her words are increasingly interrupted by moaning spasms. "You... insolent... scoundrel..." she gasps out, her cheeks starting to turn red with flushed embarrassment. Seeing an opportunity for further mischief, you suggest: "Perhaps I should undo a button or two to help you cool down a bit?" Charlene, caught between irritation and discomfort, can’t really find the words for a reply before you freeze time once more.

You eye Charlene up and down, standing unsteadily before you, her knees turned inwards. Her face has gradually taken on the hue of a tomato, and her bosom swells with heaving breaths. You produce a pair of scissors from your pocket and circle your noble adversary; you insert them in through the neckline of her waistcoat in order to start cutting through the shoulders of her outfit. Folding the garment open a little to expose the expanse of her sloping shoulder, you then also cut through the shoulderstraps of her lace bra.

Stepping back and releasing time, you watch the effects of your temporal meddling as the fabric on both front and back tumble away, revealing the upper part of Charlene’s torso to your scrutiny. Any further collapse is only prevented by the corsetry worn directly beneath the breasts, which jiggle slightly on the corset’s upper edge, their pink tips already standing fully erect from the stone’s tireless efforts.

Charlene’s noble facade is shattered as she gazes down at herself in surprise before letting out a shriek, which abruptly transitions into a moan as a particularly strong pulse from the enchanted stone courses through her. "Woops, a bit too cool, perhaps? Well, I won't complain,” you quip. Charlene throws her arms across her chest and yells: "Umphf, how dare you?!"