The night air touches the wetness of the nectar collected in her flower. Running a fingertip over her labia, she splits herself like a fig. The pinkne...s of her inner folds visible should someone gaze upon her. The manicured red nail tickling her sensitive nubbin with a sigh. Caressing her breasts, she teases herself into excitement. Her cream forms a pearl within her flower which she bursts by sliding a finger into her tightness. Her breath catches in the still air and she pushes deeper into. She shivered as she reasoned that the stickiness that adhered itself to her feet was the blood that flowed from the slaughtered victims of the Duke of Warwick's revenge. However, she was less concerned than she might otherwise have been for the cleanness of her feet. Her naked body was already a mess of dirt, scratches and bruises. A little more made no difference at all.But before she bathed her body in a stream or even in the castle's filthy moat, in which faeces floated amongst the corpses. More

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