ElFewja
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Betrayal -- scarabs/F feet
The room tumbled and spun about her, a noxious purple fog bleeding down the walls and choking her sight. Memories flashed through her like lightning, searing her with sizzling blotches twinkling before her blinking eyelids. Everything around her grew cool and the world seemed to grow distant, the ground beneath her vanishing and her weight tumbling down a long, dark corridor. The images crackled before her: the orange moon hanging over the distant forest-clad mountains, the long winding dirt road that still seemed to crumple beneath her, and then that lonely, deplorable house, complete with cobwebs and decaying wood.
Closing her sapphire eyes, she drew in a deep, murky breath of the stewy air. Images of vast hills covered in sand winked in front of her. Knocking it aside, she drew an image of the house up again, her breath shaky. She watched her friends stalk their way up the steps then pass the large pillars before forcing the old creaking door open. They chuckled and laughed, loudly chanting down the tall tales all the professors had told them at the college. A great, roaring wind blew around her, sand spraying over her like an unabashed sea wave. Raising an arm, she lowered her head and shielded herself from the storm.
Halloween. The word slammed into her like a raging bull, knocking the wind out of her. Staggering and gasping, she reached forward, slowly clenching her fingers into a fist. Smiling viciously, she felt a fury course through her, crackling beneath her skin. A thousand images of seeping darkness clouded her mind, burying the memories of the dusty carpets and peeling wallpaper. Darkness rolled over her and she felt a thousand years of anger simmer through her, remembering how she shook within the tight strands of linen that had housed her.
Shaking her head, she cast aside the images and hobbled forward, the muscles of her limbs subdued by a restrictive tightness. Pawing at the air and hunching onward, she wheezed heavily, the thoughts of her comrades dashing off into dark rooms that seemed to shift and warble as though they weren't entirely there. An avalanche of anger claimed her again as she recalled the sharp prongs of the Scarabs that were locked within her tomb, prickling at her with an incessant candor. Gritting her teeth, she wanted to howl as the memories of their stabbing grew hot and rigid.
Her college beamed before her like a holy light and she saw herself, her long golden hair shimmering in the sunlight as she laughed with friends. Groaning, she reached forward again, swiping at the image as she accidently dashed it into the mists. A round cake covered in white icing came and went, followed by her parent's smiling faces at the door of their small farm house. The sound of a thousand swords clanged loudly as she looked over the army that marched forward, casting a great wall of dust as they swooped through the roads of the city – her city! -- and swept up the sand-colored bricks of her palace.
The men that wore her colors threw down their blades and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her backward as she kicked and screamed, and soon the priests appeared with their ankhs of obsidian. Her voice scrawled inside of her throat as she called forth the memories of her class from this morning, how they had discussed the Handmaid's Tale and the subdued narrative voice of women throughout history. Drawing her hands to her head, she gripped tightly, shaking and howling as another voice that carried the same pitch and timbre as her own roiled within her. The image of her tomb cracking open, forbidden morning light spilling into it came and went as her spirit soared through the palace, flying free. In her head she heard the other voice and her own speaking over top of one another, the two screeching against one another like nails against a bed spread in the dim of a starry night. "I am Sarah," she felt herself call out, but the words fell within the howling storm of sand.
A powerful voice mirroring her own cried out, "I am Sabah!" and her chest quaked. All at once she saw her friends fall away and run from her. Tears bubbled at her eyes as she reached forward for help, the rags at her arms dangling loosely. A clatter came from around her as the house settled into this realm, the shadows leering at her with a sinister, otherworldly sparkle. Lurching to her left, she stamped her bare feet and looked at the woman that had betrayed her sitting on the floor, shaking with terror. She quivered and pushed herself back, pressing tightly against the wall as she felt her form near.
Trying to shake her head, she pleaded inwardly for a moment before she felt her voice silenced, her terror subdued by rage. A vicious red light blared from behind her. Turning, she threw her hands up and shielded her eyes, screaming like a banshee as she felt her limbs tighten once more, the world growing dark and black.
The air was cool, musty and damp. With a quick tug of her arms, she felt her fingers wiggle and tap into her shoulders. Shifting her torso, she banged her hips and shoulders against a thick, stony material. Her anger boiled deep inside of her and she began bouncing within her tomb, thrusting her hips forward and banging against a heavy board of stone that lifted lightly, allowing threads of light to peek through at her. Rage bled through her like the viscous red light that had engulfed her. Shaking with all of her might, she banged against the sides and the lid, her form barely nudging the confines of her coffin.
Puffing out a heated breath through her nose, she felt the tethers of the cloth tighten. The sound of water agonizingly dripping to her right hounded at her, each drop seeming to take a millennium to plunk away. She counted the time between the drops, then the drops themselves. Imagining the dark puddle, she watched as the water plinked into it, rippling its mirror like surface as she counted the time until it settled. A thin, blasphemous smile curved along her lips as another drop fell. Next time, she would be quicker, she thought to herself as she smirked and chuckled. Next time, she would--
A distinct scratching buzzed within her coffin and her thoughts were swept away like sand. A malodious, decayed wind flustered against her bare soles and at once her eyebrows sparked up. The briefest image of herself sprinkled before her. She sat upon her throne, yawning and leaning her chin onto the palm of her hand as she twirled her scepter in the other. Laughter rang through her hall like a holy bell, and she looked downward, glancing at the mummified woman that twisted and bucked in place, hardly moving. With her exposed mouth she begged and pleaded for release between crying for an end and begging forgiveness. For an entire day she sat above the betrayer, smirking and soaking up the delicious agony of the priestess that first rose against her, bound before her as hundreds of little, wiggling scarabs burbled over top of her expertly exposed soles.
The chittering grew within her tomb and she distinctly recalled the sharp nose and dark, beady eyes of that proud woman before her torment. Gritting her teeth, she saw that face, again and again, in her classes, in her dorm and as she followed her into the house, her lower jaw quivering when they stepped into the grand hallway. A light touch rounded her naked heel and she shackled a gasp, her eyes winking into a wince as she looked away.
Exhaling, she spread her shoulders and propped her head back, her eyelids growing stiff as she clenched her teeth with determination. Chuckling with delirious fury, her lips smoldered into a smile. To think that that weak priestess was broken over such a simple thing, she thought to herself. A small handful of tiny needles scritched at her soles, their flesh made soft by being hidden away in stout sneakers. Her foot flinched momentarily, the wrapping that clung to the top of her foot and bound her toes side by side barring her do little more than gently flex her arch. No, she thought to herself as the fang-like legs of a multitude of the scarabs clung to her, I’m The Queen, not some pathetic riff-raff. I will not be defeated.
Gritting her teeth, she fought off the cankerous smile that fell across her like a deluge of water unable to break into the dry earth. The tide rose up her heel, her nervous toes frozen in fear, peering downward and trembling. Sucking in her lips, she bit down over them and closed her eyes as she drew in short, rapid breaths, their scaly touches menacing her pampered flesh. Cracks formed within her, a wellspring of distilled and cherished laughter bubbling upward like bits of air in an oasis. A chiding voice echoed in her throat and she felt her body giggle while the rainwaters rose around her, seeping into the crevices. The bugs chirped and buzzed, their prongs slithering up her sole, infesting her feet with an undeniable, ticklish agony. The sensations crawled up the deep wrinkles of her soles as though they were footholds. All around her she felt her laughter flood the tomb, the waters rising and within minutes, submerging her.
Her feet buzzed with a creamy, delectable agony as the creatures marched upward, determined as the army that overthrew her. A drone rung through her spine and she extended her neck, trying to pull away from the sensations that seeped along her. Her hips swayed back and forth erratically, and she shook her arms and wiggled her fingers, yet her cruelly wrinkled feet barely flinched despite how desperately she shook her ankles. She would endure, she shouted within her head as she attempted to shrug her face off to the side, the cloth creaking as she gently shook.
A single claw prickled against the center of her deep, yawning arch and at once she gasped as a fulmination of wispy sensations etched and throbbed across her feeble flesh. Unable to extend her jaw, she drew in a harsh gasp through her nose as her scarlet eyes bolted wide. A frenzied guffaw charged into her ribcage as she tugged at her ankle, her legs limply shaking as the strips of cloth seemed to tighten. As though aware of her plight, the mass of insects swarmed up her feet as she slowly counted the pronged claws that vied for the centers of her arches, a sense of dreadful knowing at what awaited her.
Sticky anticipation clung to her like syrup, drawing out the paltry seconds that remained before the plague consumed her. Her breath became a wildfire, simmering, sparking and flickering in the stale wind of her coffin. Edging her chin downward, she grit her teeth together and pinched her eyes shut while the light scratches at her heels seeming to slash across her entire torso. Slowly, shards of agony crisscrossed the centers of her feet, just above her heels, and at once she shook her head, her torso vibrating as laughter foamed at the edges of her mouth. The malicious bugs seemed to brawl with one another as each one sought to claim its own piece of her sole. They reached around one another so that it felt like a hundred little claws pinched her from each bug while they tried to overtake each other for the glorious right to set against her and single-handedly commit the most torture possible.
Silky threads of arcing shivers webbed across her back as the scourge of sensations on her feet blossomed and manifested. As the bugs gently kneaded and massaged her soles she whimpered lightly, too aware of the musty breeze that licked at the exposed remains of the upper halves of her feet. A refrain of melodious laughter hummed in her throat, the notes churning and bubbling as they sought freedom. Biting her lower lip, she carefully felt the quivering mass inch ever higher, her velvety soles acting as a tuning fork for the buzzing itch that nestled against them. The cursed sensations crawled up her legs like vines, choking her torso for the treasures that she was forced to hide away.
Pangs of passionate torment clouded her mind, veiling her thoughts of revenge and determination while covertly feeding them into the voracious fires that consumed her. With all of her being she wanted to laugh, to beg and plead harder than the priestess ever had. A distant part of her knew the scarabs would not acquiesce no matter her pleas and still her mouth sought to barter for the freedom of her soles as ticklish agony clutched into them.
As the bugs claimed the upper ends of her feet, quietly stalking across the flat balls of her soles and edging towards her gently twitching toes, she felt her body grow small and distant before her soles. Their presence rose before her, asserting their dominance over her body. Strength depleted from her muscles as a small voice in the back of her head bemused her situation, quietly mocking her. Her shoulders grew lax and she snorted out scalding breaths as the sensations blazed and blossomed into cactus flowers that prickled her with their needles while also fertilizing her with radiant pollen. It felt as though she gallantly walked across the sunbaked sands, the shifting buzzing of feelings on her feet igniting a flame within her.
A scarab scratched at the stalk of the middle toe on her left foot. Stifling a secretive moan into a gasp, she clenched her fingers tightly. Peeking her eyes open into slits, she clenched her stomach muscles tightly and spewed a wavering breath through cracked lips. A slim sliver of spring-like pleasure crackled across her face. A dreadful chill filled her as she dashed the emotion away, smothering it beneath her as a ghostly word, defeat, slithered along the back of her neck. Whimpering, she began shifting back and forth anew, her ruby eyes wide at the surge of realizations that coursed through her like the flooded Nile.
Even then, a small sliver of breathy, bubbly light blossomed within her. The titillating touches almost seemed to draw upon the emotions she buried away, soaking them up for nourishment. Her feet no longer felt agonized, but awake and alive, rebelling against her. Chiding and cooing, she attempted to tilt her head away, a searing weakness draining her of her struggles. The coffin seemed to grow around her as she crumpled within it, the tirade that plagued her soles dousing her power over herself. A meek giggle paraded through her and a tiny, whimsical smile fluttered across her lips as she fell away from her barricade of resolve, watching it overrun with the vines of powerlessness and helplessness that she fully yet regrettably embraced.
The scarabs scratched their way up her toes and she felt her spine arch upwards, the overbearing strikes too pure for her to handle. Despite their betrayal, her toes still flickered in a vague attempt to protect themselves as she simultaneously cursed and praised the sinister wrappings that quashed their coup. With a grievous yet victorious guffaw, she sat, writhing in place while muffled laughter seeped around her. Unmoved by her agony, the scarabs continued to inflict their private desires upon her soles.
Praying that she was alone, she threw off her queenly charade, privately indulging in the crippling and overpowering weakness of her feet. She laughed and shrieked, silently pleading for an end while secretly burning with a lust for more. Time dragged on, a full eternity seeming to flash by in a moment's time, yet the scarabs continued to toil for her. For days her feet flayed her with their battle cries of sensitivity, goading her to laugh and giggle like a paltry school girl. A week thereafter she roared with moans of sanctified pleasure as a monstrous weight seemed to press her down, squeezing her of every drop of euphoria she could muster, to the point that her muscles ached with cramps. The curse that bound her soul back to this earthly body sustained her, refusing to allow her any reprieve by exhaustion. So she resided, flitting back and forth between innocent joy and agonizing arousal, the whole time savoring the blissful torment while ruing the day that her curse might be broken, forcing her to stalk the halls of this forsake house once more.
The room tumbled and spun about her, a noxious purple fog bleeding down the walls and choking her sight. Memories flashed through her like lightning, searing her with sizzling blotches twinkling before her blinking eyelids. Everything around her grew cool and the world seemed to grow distant, the ground beneath her vanishing and her weight tumbling down a long, dark corridor. The images crackled before her: the orange moon hanging over the distant forest-clad mountains, the long winding dirt road that still seemed to crumple beneath her, and then that lonely, deplorable house, complete with cobwebs and decaying wood.
Closing her sapphire eyes, she drew in a deep, murky breath of the stewy air. Images of vast hills covered in sand winked in front of her. Knocking it aside, she drew an image of the house up again, her breath shaky. She watched her friends stalk their way up the steps then pass the large pillars before forcing the old creaking door open. They chuckled and laughed, loudly chanting down the tall tales all the professors had told them at the college. A great, roaring wind blew around her, sand spraying over her like an unabashed sea wave. Raising an arm, she lowered her head and shielded herself from the storm.
Halloween. The word slammed into her like a raging bull, knocking the wind out of her. Staggering and gasping, she reached forward, slowly clenching her fingers into a fist. Smiling viciously, she felt a fury course through her, crackling beneath her skin. A thousand images of seeping darkness clouded her mind, burying the memories of the dusty carpets and peeling wallpaper. Darkness rolled over her and she felt a thousand years of anger simmer through her, remembering how she shook within the tight strands of linen that had housed her.
Shaking her head, she cast aside the images and hobbled forward, the muscles of her limbs subdued by a restrictive tightness. Pawing at the air and hunching onward, she wheezed heavily, the thoughts of her comrades dashing off into dark rooms that seemed to shift and warble as though they weren't entirely there. An avalanche of anger claimed her again as she recalled the sharp prongs of the Scarabs that were locked within her tomb, prickling at her with an incessant candor. Gritting her teeth, she wanted to howl as the memories of their stabbing grew hot and rigid.
Her college beamed before her like a holy light and she saw herself, her long golden hair shimmering in the sunlight as she laughed with friends. Groaning, she reached forward again, swiping at the image as she accidently dashed it into the mists. A round cake covered in white icing came and went, followed by her parent's smiling faces at the door of their small farm house. The sound of a thousand swords clanged loudly as she looked over the army that marched forward, casting a great wall of dust as they swooped through the roads of the city – her city! -- and swept up the sand-colored bricks of her palace.
The men that wore her colors threw down their blades and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her backward as she kicked and screamed, and soon the priests appeared with their ankhs of obsidian. Her voice scrawled inside of her throat as she called forth the memories of her class from this morning, how they had discussed the Handmaid's Tale and the subdued narrative voice of women throughout history. Drawing her hands to her head, she gripped tightly, shaking and howling as another voice that carried the same pitch and timbre as her own roiled within her. The image of her tomb cracking open, forbidden morning light spilling into it came and went as her spirit soared through the palace, flying free. In her head she heard the other voice and her own speaking over top of one another, the two screeching against one another like nails against a bed spread in the dim of a starry night. "I am Sarah," she felt herself call out, but the words fell within the howling storm of sand.
A powerful voice mirroring her own cried out, "I am Sabah!" and her chest quaked. All at once she saw her friends fall away and run from her. Tears bubbled at her eyes as she reached forward for help, the rags at her arms dangling loosely. A clatter came from around her as the house settled into this realm, the shadows leering at her with a sinister, otherworldly sparkle. Lurching to her left, she stamped her bare feet and looked at the woman that had betrayed her sitting on the floor, shaking with terror. She quivered and pushed herself back, pressing tightly against the wall as she felt her form near.
Trying to shake her head, she pleaded inwardly for a moment before she felt her voice silenced, her terror subdued by rage. A vicious red light blared from behind her. Turning, she threw her hands up and shielded her eyes, screaming like a banshee as she felt her limbs tighten once more, the world growing dark and black.
The air was cool, musty and damp. With a quick tug of her arms, she felt her fingers wiggle and tap into her shoulders. Shifting her torso, she banged her hips and shoulders against a thick, stony material. Her anger boiled deep inside of her and she began bouncing within her tomb, thrusting her hips forward and banging against a heavy board of stone that lifted lightly, allowing threads of light to peek through at her. Rage bled through her like the viscous red light that had engulfed her. Shaking with all of her might, she banged against the sides and the lid, her form barely nudging the confines of her coffin.
Puffing out a heated breath through her nose, she felt the tethers of the cloth tighten. The sound of water agonizingly dripping to her right hounded at her, each drop seeming to take a millennium to plunk away. She counted the time between the drops, then the drops themselves. Imagining the dark puddle, she watched as the water plinked into it, rippling its mirror like surface as she counted the time until it settled. A thin, blasphemous smile curved along her lips as another drop fell. Next time, she would be quicker, she thought to herself as she smirked and chuckled. Next time, she would--
A distinct scratching buzzed within her coffin and her thoughts were swept away like sand. A malodious, decayed wind flustered against her bare soles and at once her eyebrows sparked up. The briefest image of herself sprinkled before her. She sat upon her throne, yawning and leaning her chin onto the palm of her hand as she twirled her scepter in the other. Laughter rang through her hall like a holy bell, and she looked downward, glancing at the mummified woman that twisted and bucked in place, hardly moving. With her exposed mouth she begged and pleaded for release between crying for an end and begging forgiveness. For an entire day she sat above the betrayer, smirking and soaking up the delicious agony of the priestess that first rose against her, bound before her as hundreds of little, wiggling scarabs burbled over top of her expertly exposed soles.
The chittering grew within her tomb and she distinctly recalled the sharp nose and dark, beady eyes of that proud woman before her torment. Gritting her teeth, she saw that face, again and again, in her classes, in her dorm and as she followed her into the house, her lower jaw quivering when they stepped into the grand hallway. A light touch rounded her naked heel and she shackled a gasp, her eyes winking into a wince as she looked away.
Exhaling, she spread her shoulders and propped her head back, her eyelids growing stiff as she clenched her teeth with determination. Chuckling with delirious fury, her lips smoldered into a smile. To think that that weak priestess was broken over such a simple thing, she thought to herself. A small handful of tiny needles scritched at her soles, their flesh made soft by being hidden away in stout sneakers. Her foot flinched momentarily, the wrapping that clung to the top of her foot and bound her toes side by side barring her do little more than gently flex her arch. No, she thought to herself as the fang-like legs of a multitude of the scarabs clung to her, I’m The Queen, not some pathetic riff-raff. I will not be defeated.
Gritting her teeth, she fought off the cankerous smile that fell across her like a deluge of water unable to break into the dry earth. The tide rose up her heel, her nervous toes frozen in fear, peering downward and trembling. Sucking in her lips, she bit down over them and closed her eyes as she drew in short, rapid breaths, their scaly touches menacing her pampered flesh. Cracks formed within her, a wellspring of distilled and cherished laughter bubbling upward like bits of air in an oasis. A chiding voice echoed in her throat and she felt her body giggle while the rainwaters rose around her, seeping into the crevices. The bugs chirped and buzzed, their prongs slithering up her sole, infesting her feet with an undeniable, ticklish agony. The sensations crawled up the deep wrinkles of her soles as though they were footholds. All around her she felt her laughter flood the tomb, the waters rising and within minutes, submerging her.
Her feet buzzed with a creamy, delectable agony as the creatures marched upward, determined as the army that overthrew her. A drone rung through her spine and she extended her neck, trying to pull away from the sensations that seeped along her. Her hips swayed back and forth erratically, and she shook her arms and wiggled her fingers, yet her cruelly wrinkled feet barely flinched despite how desperately she shook her ankles. She would endure, she shouted within her head as she attempted to shrug her face off to the side, the cloth creaking as she gently shook.
A single claw prickled against the center of her deep, yawning arch and at once she gasped as a fulmination of wispy sensations etched and throbbed across her feeble flesh. Unable to extend her jaw, she drew in a harsh gasp through her nose as her scarlet eyes bolted wide. A frenzied guffaw charged into her ribcage as she tugged at her ankle, her legs limply shaking as the strips of cloth seemed to tighten. As though aware of her plight, the mass of insects swarmed up her feet as she slowly counted the pronged claws that vied for the centers of her arches, a sense of dreadful knowing at what awaited her.
Sticky anticipation clung to her like syrup, drawing out the paltry seconds that remained before the plague consumed her. Her breath became a wildfire, simmering, sparking and flickering in the stale wind of her coffin. Edging her chin downward, she grit her teeth together and pinched her eyes shut while the light scratches at her heels seeming to slash across her entire torso. Slowly, shards of agony crisscrossed the centers of her feet, just above her heels, and at once she shook her head, her torso vibrating as laughter foamed at the edges of her mouth. The malicious bugs seemed to brawl with one another as each one sought to claim its own piece of her sole. They reached around one another so that it felt like a hundred little claws pinched her from each bug while they tried to overtake each other for the glorious right to set against her and single-handedly commit the most torture possible.
Silky threads of arcing shivers webbed across her back as the scourge of sensations on her feet blossomed and manifested. As the bugs gently kneaded and massaged her soles she whimpered lightly, too aware of the musty breeze that licked at the exposed remains of the upper halves of her feet. A refrain of melodious laughter hummed in her throat, the notes churning and bubbling as they sought freedom. Biting her lower lip, she carefully felt the quivering mass inch ever higher, her velvety soles acting as a tuning fork for the buzzing itch that nestled against them. The cursed sensations crawled up her legs like vines, choking her torso for the treasures that she was forced to hide away.
Pangs of passionate torment clouded her mind, veiling her thoughts of revenge and determination while covertly feeding them into the voracious fires that consumed her. With all of her being she wanted to laugh, to beg and plead harder than the priestess ever had. A distant part of her knew the scarabs would not acquiesce no matter her pleas and still her mouth sought to barter for the freedom of her soles as ticklish agony clutched into them.
As the bugs claimed the upper ends of her feet, quietly stalking across the flat balls of her soles and edging towards her gently twitching toes, she felt her body grow small and distant before her soles. Their presence rose before her, asserting their dominance over her body. Strength depleted from her muscles as a small voice in the back of her head bemused her situation, quietly mocking her. Her shoulders grew lax and she snorted out scalding breaths as the sensations blazed and blossomed into cactus flowers that prickled her with their needles while also fertilizing her with radiant pollen. It felt as though she gallantly walked across the sunbaked sands, the shifting buzzing of feelings on her feet igniting a flame within her.
A scarab scratched at the stalk of the middle toe on her left foot. Stifling a secretive moan into a gasp, she clenched her fingers tightly. Peeking her eyes open into slits, she clenched her stomach muscles tightly and spewed a wavering breath through cracked lips. A slim sliver of spring-like pleasure crackled across her face. A dreadful chill filled her as she dashed the emotion away, smothering it beneath her as a ghostly word, defeat, slithered along the back of her neck. Whimpering, she began shifting back and forth anew, her ruby eyes wide at the surge of realizations that coursed through her like the flooded Nile.
Even then, a small sliver of breathy, bubbly light blossomed within her. The titillating touches almost seemed to draw upon the emotions she buried away, soaking them up for nourishment. Her feet no longer felt agonized, but awake and alive, rebelling against her. Chiding and cooing, she attempted to tilt her head away, a searing weakness draining her of her struggles. The coffin seemed to grow around her as she crumpled within it, the tirade that plagued her soles dousing her power over herself. A meek giggle paraded through her and a tiny, whimsical smile fluttered across her lips as she fell away from her barricade of resolve, watching it overrun with the vines of powerlessness and helplessness that she fully yet regrettably embraced.
The scarabs scratched their way up her toes and she felt her spine arch upwards, the overbearing strikes too pure for her to handle. Despite their betrayal, her toes still flickered in a vague attempt to protect themselves as she simultaneously cursed and praised the sinister wrappings that quashed their coup. With a grievous yet victorious guffaw, she sat, writhing in place while muffled laughter seeped around her. Unmoved by her agony, the scarabs continued to inflict their private desires upon her soles.
Praying that she was alone, she threw off her queenly charade, privately indulging in the crippling and overpowering weakness of her feet. She laughed and shrieked, silently pleading for an end while secretly burning with a lust for more. Time dragged on, a full eternity seeming to flash by in a moment's time, yet the scarabs continued to toil for her. For days her feet flayed her with their battle cries of sensitivity, goading her to laugh and giggle like a paltry school girl. A week thereafter she roared with moans of sanctified pleasure as a monstrous weight seemed to press her down, squeezing her of every drop of euphoria she could muster, to the point that her muscles ached with cramps. The curse that bound her soul back to this earthly body sustained her, refusing to allow her any reprieve by exhaustion. So she resided, flitting back and forth between innocent joy and agonizing arousal, the whole time savoring the blissful torment while ruing the day that her curse might be broken, forcing her to stalk the halls of this forsake house once more.
