Consumed

Seolf is there. Yes. Completely there. Not a single drop of her attention’s wasted to anything else than Charlotte’s exposed cock. A slight gust of wind breezes through the open window ; carrying her shame for all to see. Seolf takes a step towards the bed, her face completely unreadable. Caught red-handed, Charlotte tries to conceal her mortification by hiding under the covers but ends up only staining the bedsheets even more. She bites her tongue, a spark of pain jolting in her mouth. To add insult to injury : when her teeth sink into her flesh, she feels her member tremble slightly under the fabric… Right under Seolf’s nose. Of course. Of course. She dives deep underneath the linen. She screams something completely unintelligible to Seolf, amidst many tears and scattered breaths between bursts of panic.

“ Hey. I’m sorry to interrupt.

— GO AWAY! ” Like a child trapped in bed, unable to hide from her parents, she falters under the slightest pressure. Even the benevolent smile on Seolf’s lips can’t reach her. Even the amused smirk she wears when she realizes how far she can tease the girl she saved but a few days earlier. Her paint-stained dress — she chose a slimmer fabric this morning to accommodate herself to the changing temperatures outside, a summer storm would most likely claim the night skies before the morrow — flutters in the mid-afternoon breeze. “ Go away… ” Her command transformed into a soft whimper, Charlotte sobs silently under the linen.

Seolf comes a bit closer and then sits by her side on the floor near the bed. And so comes again to Charlotte the feeling of burning, heat, perspiration, her heart devastated. The shame and how it is again worsened by the fact she likes it. Her body betrays her, she doesn’t feel herself anymore.. She wants more. More and more again until she can’t drink from this endless spring. She snaps back to reality, only to drift even deeper when she feels her savior’s touch on her covered back. Seolf is very cautious. Tender. She could have gone for her lower back, exposed and revealing the birth of her rear.. But she’s abstained. She doesn't need to touch her directly, because her hands are burning coals, embers branding the girl’s soft skin with her kindness.

Seolf’s prey twitches. She knows how Charlotte feels. She knows it very well. She understands perfectly how a sound mind could be corrupted, defiled by the sickness she bears… Of course she does. She is its source. Like a spider slowly weaving silk tendrils back to her ; eyes focused on her meal, her hands play carefully around the edge of her exposed skin… The same fire burns deep inside of her ; cause she is the corrupting heat, the pleasing hell and the ashes left by the flames… The time to play’s near… So very near.. She just needs one more second. One more petrified instant… One more touch, as she sinks her nails deep into the soft flesh of Charlotte’s behind.