Letitia Sarff Senne (bewicche) wrote in thedarkera, @ 2020-02-13 13:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | fletcher, letitia, rebekah |
First Time For Anything.
"You could have done worse for your first time." She tells Rebekah, who is on one side of the obscene red velvet couch in the parlor. She doesn't say that once the bloom is rubbed off, it would get worse. Not every one that stumbles into Marceline's is young, handsome, and well scented. Most are old and dried out like prunes.
There was nothing worse than a horny raisin.
Fletcher had been coming to Wytchwood for a long time. He was tall, broad, and exceptionally pleasant to look at, but she hadn't brought this up. Rebekah might remember him if she'd decided to describe him, but she thought it would be better for the girl to be pleasantly surprised.
The glass Letitia holds seems like it is filled with red wine, but is not. It is a sherry glass half full of the new blood that had just arrived. Not too much, just enough to pink her pretty places. She's waiting for her own cull to come claim her, and she doesn't want to fill up before he does.
"Don't worry, dearest. You're a spool of lovely. He'll want to unwind you a little at a time. He'd paid a great deal for having you. Let him." There's a knock at the door, and she wonders if it could be either Fletcher or Owainn early for their appointments. She fusses with Rebekah's hair just in case, wanting her to present perfectly, hoping that Fletcher is as kind to an innocent than he'd been with her.
Sometimes too kind, but that was a lifetime of experiences biasing her for the more extreme measures of her sexual pleasures.