B-but... it feels good!

Caught in the mirror, a chesty red-faced svelte thing with her dress caught up on her hips and her dominant hand digging against her naked pussy, the shame of the situation hit Nineve hard.

"What am I doing?" she asks herself, her usual sweet chiming voice now a breathy, provocative distortion of its usual tenor. But she'd found that sweet spot, that sensitive pearl at the apex of her core, and she couldn't stop there. She shouldn't... She shouldn't... But... Just a little bit more? Then she could shave herself afterward. She had to gently nudge it. Stroke it. Swab around the outside of the receding hood that acted as a barrier to the more sensitive part of her nub.

Feeling herself sex well up from within and pressure, and the surge of oily wetness that was beginning to make the movement of her fingers all the more slick, all the more harder to control precisely in what exactly they did, Nineve made a small, fretful cry and sank to hard stone floor of her sleeping cell. The movement, while clumsy, was completed without the young girl ever pulling her hand free from her sex.

Cheek and shoulders supported by the cool, unforgiving marbled texture, the blonde screwed her green eyes into a squinted shut and V'd her dainty fingers up against her glistening and swollen, furred pussy lips, inaccurately pushing around the outside again, her mind filled with uncertainties and doubt and fear for what she was doing, and her body begging for her to continue, promising that something good would happen if only she'd keep up with it, if only she'd make direct contact, if only, if only...-

A quick rap of three knocks on the outside of her wooden door penetrate the room.

Acutely aware of her own labored breathing, Nineve...