In her hands

The maid took her time washing with a horsehair glove before applying the expiatory and regenerative balms to Wednesday's skin. Wednesday held back her pain wonderfully.

Morticia ran her tongue between her lips.

• You control your reaction to pain well, my daughter, but I see your body shudder, those flashes in your eyes, I can feel the pain from here; it's so delicious.

Morticia's fingers, sharp as ancient blades, traced a slow curve in the air before resting on Wednesday's scarred shoulder.

The young woman gritted her teeth, a shiver running through her tense muscles, while the maid, impassive, continued to apply the balm with surgical precision.

Morticia kissed her daughter greedily, her tongue shamelessly exploring her mouth.

Her nails tracing arabesques on her skin, Wednesday had never been able to resist her mother's experience, her moans slowly turning into gasps.

Morticia exhaled a hot breath against Wednesday's lips, her nails digging imperceptibly into her daughter's pale flesh like the claws of a satisfied cat. A trickle of blood beaded along a delicate scratch, and the maid, without ceasing her work, spread a new layer of burning balm that made the wound crackle.

• Ah, mother, only you know how to extract and magnify my suffering and terror to this point.
• You are a vile flatterer, my daughter, but this time it will not save you; you are in my clutches.

Morticia broke off with a low, predatory laugh, almost a whisper, as her fingers slowly traced up Wednesday's neck, pressing just enough to make the veins beneath the skin quiver. The young woman exhaled a broken breath, her eyelashes fluttering like trapped butterfly wings.

• Do you like that feeling of fear that heightens your terror, that uncertainty of that second that can precede nothingness and the cold of ****?

With that, she expertly penetrated her daughter's vagina, her hand instantly finding her G-spots.

For a long time, Morticia began to arouse her daughter's desire. She gasped, her body racked with spasms, but she also felt a fear spreading, that of agony. But what had her mother done? She looked into her mother's eyes, she saw her ****, her mouth could not express a word, barely a gasp.

• Do you feel the poison spreading within you ?

The surprised maid froze in a moment of eternal agony before collapsing in horrible convulsions, dead from having unknowingly spread the poison over Wednesday's body.

Wednesday gasped and relished this agonizing suffocation, feeling the poison spread within her, her muscles tensing in a final orgasm that froze in the cold of **** finally released.

She regained consciousness at the same time as the maid, under her amused mother's gaze.

• So, my daughter, this deadly orgasm?

Wednesday's eyelids slowly opened, revealing pupils still vibrating from a recent ****. A trickle of drool dripped from her lower lip as her clenched fingers scraped the cold marble of the treatment table.

• Deliciously awful, I really thought I'd taken my last breath, Mother, she murmured hoarsely, regaining her senses.

Morticia smiled ominously.

• Remember, you belong to us. The Addams Family has values. If a rotten fruit comes along, they get rid of it.

Wednesday wasn't feeling proud; she'd gotten the message.