Something fleshy and hard pressed against her cunny. “What did I tell you?” he asked, not raising his voice, but emphasising each word. “You told me to be careful with my quill and not to spill ink on the book,” she recited, struggling to keep her voice from trembling. It is not for silly children to be drinking wine with their elders and betters.”
He stormed from the room, leaving Rose both relieved and – for some reason – disappointed. “Is this a joke to you?” For a moment she thought he was going to lose control, but then he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. Rose’s heart was a series of distant explosions in her chest. The dog bared its fangs above her, pressing itself ever more insistently against her girlhood. The dog landed with its front paws on her shoulders above her breasts, pinning her to the ground, its hind legs between her thighs. He was angry, but she also recognised his hunger. Disgusted with herself, she withdrew them to find them coated in
