the sensitivity of their bodies increasing. Kitty's face in conflict–her desire to please, vs. her struggle to breathe–it piques at Bianca's craving. the pause between strokes of her tongue; unbearable. she contends the compulsion to drown the girl, for her primal emancipation.
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Not until a clear liquid spewed from her mouth. Her lips abruptly unravel themselves from Bianca. Palms cover her mouth to mask the sounds of her dry-heaving. “ Miss Bianca, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking! I went to far and ... I'm sorry! That was so gross of me. ”
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She continued. Eager to impress, her eyes never left her mistress's hungry gaze. It gave Kitty an uncomfortable chill. Those unblinking eyes, that low gaze and her scent was enough to spin her thoughts to only care for her. Thoughts filled with Bianca Carniglia.
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No sound, other than the occasional squelching from the servant’s awfully high-cut shorts——just like she desired; Kitty’s every breath is stained by the pungent scent and taste of her owners pent up stress, and only after she’s satiated, may she breathe again.
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Moist gurgles and gulps upgraded to soppy coughs and retches. Hues of deep brown welled, but she didn't care for breathing. It was unimportant compared to the service she was giving her mistress. So important, in fact, that she didn't notice how 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 she was hurling.
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