As the clock ticks on by,
View it not as time running out,
But as the music of change.
An audible reminder that leaves fall in autumn and the wind blows kisses...
...
Muffled and high pitched moans can be heard through the walls of the grand house. By now the night has fallen and the birds have gone to sleep. From the outside, all the world appears to be silent and still. And yet, upon closer inspection there is light in the darkness, as is the way of the world.
As a fire crackles, and shadows dance, two figures can be seen entangled. Our two figures.
Regina and Savannah are together, beside the fire, making love.
Well, when I say 'making love', what I really mean is that Savannah is making love as Regina watches.
Upon scrambling, giggling, into the house, a fire had been lit and a sense of liberation sent into the air.
Tales of 'mummy', chastity and slave-life... had all gone untold. Instead, stories of school, childhood and fond memories had been unfolded by sparks. Faces had been held with tears of joy and of sadness, and of love. Sex had been started and stopped by laughter. Sex had been started and stopped by the frighteningly loud pops of wood burning...
A lot of sex had started and stopped, none of these adventures ever met their logical messy conclusion. But there's always time.
At present, Regina is sitting on the floor cross-legged, pouring another glass of wine out into a glass swaying with drunk love. Savannah is lying down, her head resting on the lap of Regina.
"And the humiliation videos?"
"Videos of brats, usually a few at once, touching each other and telling me my cock is worthless and that I could never make a girl feel anything."
"Brats?"
"You know, bratty girls. Wet-look leggings, petite, voices like cheese graters..."
"..."
"The girls from a 2000s movie about American schools."
Regina Pretends to chew gum and plays with some hair that is resting on her face, she shoots Savannah a mean, judging look up and down
"Exactly! Exactly this!"
"So you're saying I'm a brat?" She sips wine with a smirk
"I'm saying you could definitely pull off being one."
"Drink?"
"Do that face again." Drunk giggles have taken over Savannah's speech as of recent.
Regina goes back to pretending to chew gum, she looks into Savannah's eyes, who is in awe and staring back up at her. Despite all that has passed there remains some tension, like a chair standing on only two of its legs ready to topple, and Regina leans down for a kiss. Savannah closes her eyes and her lips part, but a kiss is not on the cards it would appear.
Regina licks her lips and spits directly into the mouth of her little toy.
Savannah, caught completely by surprise, snaps her eyes open and by mere reflex swallows the spit.
Regina takes a theatrical pause, narrows her eyes in a drunken, devilish state...
"I quite like being a brat. Now open. Your. Mouth." An Oscar should have been won in that moment. No playing. Not a remnant of Regina remained. This was an order. An order told by a demon. A demon with friends, and blackmail material, and a pair of panties to wear. Savannah's mind may race and create stories but this time they may just be bang on.
From an outside perspective Regina is the brat, and Savannah her toy, or her cuck, or her friend's brother, caught peeping at her changing.
Savannah opens her mouth wide, this time keeping eye contact.
"Tug it. Your cock. And tug it fast, ask for my spit."
"Spit in my mouth."
"No no no, without the enjoyment, I want to see who you turn into when you watch those videos and dream. Be that Savannah for me. Tug faster, and ask for it."
Savannah, like another trained actor, as we all are actors in life, softens her face and quietly and with much embarrassment responds.
"Spit on me."
A dart, straight on her face.
Not necessarily only in her mouth, but purposefully all over her face.
