A/N: Art for art's sake.

"She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

'The curse is come upon me,' cried

The Lady of Shalott." - "The Lady of Shalott" Alfred Lord Tennyson

Chapter 2

The Curse Is Come Upon Me

Cara had held out for as long as she could against the pain and conditioning, against the endless and ruthless torture, but even a Mord-Sith had their breaking point. Dahlia had pushed her past the point of no return. It had been so simple to slip back into Dahlia and fall into the warmth of the agony. Here, everything made sense. There was pain, and then there was nothing. If she did as she was told, there would be nothing. If she resisted, there was pain. Cara hung limply from the chains that now felt like home, no longer her tenacious self but rather a mere facsimile of the strong, cunning woman she once was. If she was not herself, if she was not Cara, then who was she supposed to be? That was where Dahlia was most helpful.

"Cara." Dahlia said her name like a prayer. "I want you to say it again. One more time for me, and then you may have a treat."

Cara nodded and cleared her throat that felt like it was aflame. She hadn't drank anything for at least a day, at least it seemed that way. After days and weeks of unrelenting torture and manipulation, the words that once haunted her came easy now, as if she had been meant to say them her whole life; which was the honest truth. Cara was a full blooded D'Haran, taken at a young age to become a Mord-Sith. She had always been meant to serve the Lord Rahl.

"Master Rahl guide us… Master Rahl protect us. In your light we… thrive, in your wisdom we are humbled, in your mercy we are sheltered. Our lives… are yours."

"Good," Dahlia said with a smile that felt more real than anything else in the world. "Are you ready for your reward, love?"

Cara could barely manage a nod, but every aching fiber of her being wanted something good to happen. Something safe, something soothing. Anything but this searing pain mixed with the dull throbbing that was its consequence. Dahlia's chest seized up at the sight of Cara broken and submissive; for although it was torture to see Cara in this pathetic light, Cara would be in pain no longer. She would not be forced to grovel at the feet of the Mother Confessor, nor would she have to subject herself to internal battles about right and wrong. Cara was Mord-Sith once more, and that is something that made sense to her.

With a sad smile, Dahlia lifted Cara out of the chains and into her arms and noted that she was considerably lighter than when they had first begun this process. Dahlia carried her like a groom would a bride over the threshold of their new home, down the stairs to the second floor of the temple, and pushed open a door which led to a resplendent bathhouse.

Cara opened her eyes long enough to see that it was much like the one in her home temple, with a bath pool big enough to fit nearly twenty Mord-Sith. Luxuriously hot steam rose from the clear waters, incense swirled into the air, and flickering candles encircled the edge of the bath. Dahlia had clearly made the preparations herself in advance, as Raina had been left at the Lavia temple days ago. But it was worth it, for her Cara. It made Cara feel better to know that Dahlia had believed she would succeed.

"You've been such a good girl, I wanted to give you a little pleasure after all that pain," Dahlia murmured, but Cara was too distant to respond. It was an unfortunate side effect of training, the partitioning of the mind. Cara once thought of Kahlan, but she had been punished enough to know she should be thinking of Lord Rahl. Dahlia sighed and hoped that this act of humanity along with a few others she had planned would be enough to bring Cara back to some semblance of her old self. Dahlia thought for a moment that she may have gone too far, broken Cara too much, but it was Cara's fault really. Cara should have known to submit, she should have known what Dahlia was capable of.

Dahlia let Cara rest at the edge of the pool with her legs in the water while she undressed. If Cara would not land herself in a world of pain while turning her body around, she would have drank in the sight of Dahlia peeling off her leathers. She remembered the ritual well from the lives she had lived before.

"All right," Dahlia hummed to herself, scooping Cara delicately into her arms. Cara watched her pale, blue eyes as Dahlia strode into the pool with Cara hanging limply in her strong vice. The warm water felt painful at first, but as soon as Dahlia fully submerged her and held just her face above the surface the pool felt like pure bliss. Cara's bruised and tattered body immediately submitted to the soothing temperature, and her arms spread out to either side of herself in a desperate attempt to soak up all of the pleasure she could. Dahlia smiled and sat Cara on the ledge of the pool, the water coming up just under her breasts. Cara just barely winced, but Dahlia knew it had hurt her.

"You're at the simple part now, love. You've done all the mountain climbing," Dahlia told her gently, grabbing a cloth and rubbing a bar of soap into it, and it smelled of lavender and sage: Dahlia's favorite scent.

"Now you can just be yourself again. You can just focus on being Cara. I'm going to lean you forward now."

Cara nodded weakly and closed her eyes as the pain came in waves each time Dahlia moved her arm or leg. Dahlia only spoke in the form of command: move here, lift your leg, let me just— yet they were at the same time words of care. Dahlia spoke words which melted into her bones and healed her ails. Dahlia's hand began to confidently roam Cara's body the more the dirt and blood was scrubbed and soaked free of it. An idle hand brushed over Cara's nipple, and Dahlia could not help herself but to lean down and take a nipple into her mouth. She paid close attention to Cara's responses and small moans, she had no objective to hurt her anymore. Dahlia wanted to remind her what pleasurable goodness came after the horrific chaos. When she was broken and defeated, the Mord-Sith would always be there for her, and would accept her exactly as she was.

"Let me wash your hair, don't struggle," Dahlia whispered, and Cara nodded with what little strength she gained from the bath. Dahlia gently took Cara's hair in her hand and bent her forward, dunking her head into the bath. She held her there for a moment, then brought her back up. Cara took a deep breath and opened her watery eyes to a different world. One in which she fit. Dahlia massaged oil into her hair and dunked again, with each massage of her scalp Cara felt the dirt and grime and blood soaking out of her hair. It reminded her of the warm, romantic baths they once took together. Sidled up next to each other, unable to be separated, sharing those small moments alone which they could not have in front of Lord Rahl. Moments which, beyond their Sisters of the Agiel, were deemed foolish and weak.

Why did the weakness feel like the Creator's Light touching down on her skin?

"All right, out of the bath, before you get pruny," Dahlia told her as she lifted Cara up to rest her bottom on the ledge of the pool. She wrapped Cara in a soft, warm towel; besides Dahlia carrying her down to the baths, this was the gentlest touch she had felt in months. Cara, intimately aware of the process of breaking, knew she had earned it for knowing her place, for returning to her sisters. She deserved these kindnesses wholeheartedly.

"There you go. Let's go sit on the chaise and dry off."

Cara held her arm around Dahlia's shoulder and slowly walked to the other wall of the bathhouse, gingerly dropping herself onto the white, upholstered chaise lounge chair. There was a cup of water on the table beside her which Cara took in both hands and sucked down greedily, she did not care if it was for her, she wanted it. Dahlia smiled— Cara had passed the test, there was still something hard left inside her which Dahlia could build back up. Cara was not just some broken toy she had played with too roughly. Cara was still Mord-Sith, still strong, still hungry.

"Lay on your stomach. I'll brush your hair," Dahlia told her in a soft voice. Cara complied and slowly turned over on the chair, her soft breasts feeling like a cushion underneath her. For the first time in months, Cara was aware of her body as her own. All the cuts and bruises felt delicious now that they had been soaked and cared for. Dahlia sat beside her and began to pull at her hair with a comb, which felt soothing beyond words. The repetitive strokes felt meditative, and Cara could have sworn she felt her mother's hand on her back rubbing and humming a wordless song in the deep dark of night. Dahlia removed the brush from Cara's wet, blonde hair and placed it down on the table beside her, replacing it with a small tin of pungent ointment. Dahlia pressed two fingers into the slick substance and rubbed it kindly into some of Cara's more horrifying wounds. The ones which would scar and remind Cara of where she truly belonged— beneath Dahlia's touch. When she was satisfied with her handiwork, both in punishment and aftercare, Dahlia laid a kiss or two on Cara's back before sitting up and resting a hand on Cara's generous ass. Her staying hand was a denotation of her want, and of her desire to do with Cara what she liked.

"Please," Cara said quietly, her voice thick and heavy with need.

"Please, what?"

"You know what I want."

Dahlia practically purred in delight at the prospect. She had spent many years with Cara and she knew this woman inside and out. Dahlia knew all her curves, kinks, and crevices, she knew where the darkest parts of Cara laid because she had held a lantern to them. So when Cara begged, Dahlia knew precisely what the blonde needed.

Dahlia shifted herself to sit on the edge of the chaise and pulled Cara up and over her lap so that the blonde's lean belly stretched over her thighs. Dahlia's ungloved hand brushed along the sumptuous curve of Cara's ass, returning to trace the healed abrasion lines that licked horizontally along the pale skin. It had taken more than the agiel to break Cara, so Dahlia had been forced to get more creative than usual. It had been a challenge which Dahlia was more than eager to rise to.

Dahlia pulled her hand out to the side and smacked it down on Cara's bare ass. The sound of harsh palm on skin reverberated off the walls. Cara recoiled in surprise more than pain, but Dahlia felt her immediately settle.

"Again," Cara said smoothly, a command to which Dahlia instantly complied, bringing her hand down harder. The more Dahlia spanked Cara, the more relaxed Cara became. Small moans and sighs of pleasure slipped from Cara's full lips, and the impacts of hand on skin became ritualistic the longer they went. Dahlia was not hurting Cara anymore, she was healing her. Dahlia's clear, blue eyes went to the brush on the side table and reached for it, curling her fingers around the bone handle and pausing for a moment. Silently, she asked permission by holding her hand there, waiting for what Cara might say. Cara looked over at the brush and said nothing, simply pressing her face into the corner of her elbow. It was then that Dahlia felt a dribble of wetness on the top of her thigh, where Cara lay. It immediately sent a rush of heat to her own core. Relying on pure instinct, Dahlia slid her hand down and found that the wetness came from Cara's slick pussy.

"Cara," Dahlia breathed, her fingers gently rubbing against Cara's soaked clit. The blonde Mord-Sith let out a low moan but said nothing. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on her hands, and from the way her arms were folded all Dahlia could see was the enduring muscle she had built over years of intensive training. Dahlia remembered their sparring matches, which Cara often won, that almost always ended with them naked on the floor, vying for who would be taken and who would take.

"Keep going," Cara murmured, biting her bottom lip and lightly grinding herself against Dahlia's hand, though that was spending more energy than she had. Dahlia gripped the hairbrush tightly and spanked her once, twice, three times with it, the instrument that was a moment ago for pleasure now used for pain— it was the Mord-Sith way. Cara hissed in satisfaction, delighting in the hot, red marks most likely forming on her ass. Dahlia could not take this teasing any longer, and after a few more strokes with the brush she abandoned it, instead pushing her fingers into Cara's soft wetness, letting the sensation of fullness overtake her and becoming grunts and moans. It didn't take long for Dahlia to find that spot within Cara that she had missed so much. She took delight in plunging her fingers into it and watching with hungry eyes as Cara unraveled beneath her touch minutes later, shaking and convulsing with much needed release.

"I've missed you, Cara."

"Hold me, Dahlia."

And she did. And they stayed like that, Cara wrapped up in Dahlia's arms and the beautiful post-orgasm cloud, until the sun fell beneath the hills. Dahlia knew with certainty that there would be nothing but this, that there was nothing but this. How could there be anything but this?

"Do you know why I had to bring you back?" Dahlia said after a long time of silence, of holding and caressing and gazing into each other's eyes. Cara grunted in the negative, her eyes having closed and just barely drifted off into some kind of light sleep. "Lord Rahl wants you to do something very important."

"What is it?"

"He wants you to kill the Mother Confessor," Dahlia said. Her words hung in the air like prophecy, but it took only a moment of pause for Cara to bookend her statement.

"Why me?" Cara said flatly, more perplexed than astonished. She was stronger of mind than she had been in the last two years, but on the other hand she was the weakest of body she had ever been. Dahlia shifted Cara in her arms a bit, the blonde's head coming to rest on her shoulder. They locked eyes, Cara's gaze still impossibly verdant, even depleted as she was. Tenacity lived within her no matter what the odds.

"You're the perfect weapon, Cara. You are the only one the Mother Confessor trusts with absolute certainty, so you are the only one she would allow close to her, close enough to kill," Dahlia said, watching Cara's expressionless face for a moment. There was nothing but intent in her eyes. "And, more importantly, you do not lose."

—

Fresh daylight spilled out before the unlikely troupe who was on the hunt for any evidence of Cara, dead or alive. Kahlan was already packed to go before anyone else had awoken, even going so far as to make a bit of breakfast for everyone so they could move as quickly as possible. They had not anticipated bringing along Raina so there was nearly not enough food for all of them, however Berdine was the first to offer half of her ration of oatmeal. Kahlan felt a soft spot in her heart reach out for Cara, who would have done precisely the same for her. Cara would have handed over almost anything she had without hesitation if it meant keeping Kahlan safe.

"Kahlan," Raina called out gently, her eyes still slightly puffy from sleep. "I want to warn you about what you might find when we do catch up to Cara and Dahlia."

"You don't have to warn me," Kahlan countered, her blue eyes darting over Raina's face before she turned to tighten the straps on her horse's saddle bag. "I've bore witness to a Mord-Sith's work before."

"That may be true, but this is… different. Cara has stood firm to Dahlia for weeks, but at some point she has to give in or die. And when that happens, she might not be the Cara we knew. Training changes people, no matter how strong they are."

"It's Cara. She's stronger than any of us," Kahlan said coldly. Raina's hand shot up to catch Kahlan's, the Mord-Sith and Confessor met eyes as if it were a duel to the death. Kahlan now understood what Cara had meant when she said Raina's ruthlessness lay beneath her kind exterior. Not all Mord-Sith wore their wounds over their leathers. Although both knew she would never dare, when touching Kahlan there was always that tinge of fear, of being undone in the most painful of ways. They both knew the odds, but Raina held Kahlan's hand in both of hers and kissed her reddened knuckles. The knuckles she had torn up trying to knock down the door at the temple.

"I know. But you met Cara at a crossroads. You have never experienced Cara before she was a lone wolf. When she's in the pack… she's entirely different," Rainia said. "All I am saying is be on your guard, and do not expect anything you once had from Cara."

"Cara and Dahlia, are they still…"

"In love? For Dahlia, yes. Cara, no. But they were in love for many years, and in those years they became the women they are today. They have a history that you and Cara do not have the luxury of. They were holding hands and whispering to each other when life was crashing down on them, when they had to kill their parents and suffer the pain of the agiel as young girls who had not had their blood yet. You cannot escape a person like that, they're always going to be linked to each other."

Raina's words rang out in her head for the entire journey to the next temple. It was only a two day's ride from the temple where they had found Raina, so there was a great possibility that they were nipping at Dahlia's heels. The seed of doubt which Raina had planted began to infect Kahlan's mind; what exactly had Raina meant? In what condition would they find Cara? Images of broken limbs and a swollen, purpled face cluttered Kahlan's mind. It overwhelmed her, blocking off any other external stimuli. When Zedd's horse came closer to hers in an attempt to make conversation she ignored him. When Ask tried to toss an apple to her, it flew straight past her nose and landed on the ground. Thankfully, Berdine's horse had eaten it quite excitedly. There was nothing stopping Kahlan from her present purpose because fear was driving her. Fear was the greatest motivator, something both Confessors and Mord-Sith knew and used as a tool.

The next temple looked much like the first, and much like the first it did not contain Cara. They searched long and hard, eyes and hands scouring every corner and curve of the temple for any shred of a clue, but it became clearer the more they explored that Dahlia and Cara had never been there in the first place.

"There is one other temple we can look to," Berdine said, her lips pursing, her hands on her hips. "And it may be exactly where they are."

"Why do you say that?" Ask said, looking up from a Journey Book which had not been updated in months.

"It's the temple they both grew up in," Berdine told them. "It's a bit farther from here, but it may be that Dahlia is moving Cara until she's finished with her. Beyond that, the other temples are in the mountains, and it could take weeks to get to her there."

"Let's hope that she is where you say she is, then," Ask replied warily when Kahlan did not. They slowly walked over to Kahlan as the room cleared. The Mother Confessor was staring out the window onto the open plains below which D'Hara was known for, and Ask stood beside her and did the same. "What are you thinking about?"

"Cara would never break, would she? Darken Rahl said he had one more piece to play against me. I can't help but think that maybe that piece could be Cara," Kahlan told them, immediately shuddering at the thought. "Cara would never break."

"The only alternative would be to lie, or to…"

"Nothing that runs through my mind is good. I don't foresee any positive outcome, Ask," Kahlan said quietly. Against their better judgment, against what they had been taught their whole life, Ask reached out and squeezed Kahlan's hand. They reached out to a Confessor, a dangerous woman, and comforted her the only way they knew how.

"We have to find her, regardless of the condition in which she is found," Ask told her, their voice low and sorrowful. "We can't abandon her. And if we find out the worst… at least we will have answers."

"I don't want answers, Ask. I want Cara. I have always wanted Cara. I only want Cara," Kahlan said and turned to Ask with wet, blue eyes. Without thinking she pulled Ask into a hug and sobbed for the first time in months. Ask could not help but wrap their arms around Kahlan and bring her closer, her body soft and comforting against their own hard, lean form. They closed their light, gray eyes and soaked in the agony, the hurt, the betrayal, and let it harden their resolve.

"Stay hungry, Kahlan. It is the only way to get what you want in this life. Stay hungry, for her."

—

Somehow, Ask's hand had found Kahlan's in the night. Their bedrolls had gotten closer and closer as the days wound down, and Kahlan found their presence beside her comforting. Although they had what she didn't, a raw and physical connection to Cara, Kahlan could not help but be enamored with them. For all the hardships Ask had gone through, of which Kahlan learned the more they traveled together, they had remained soft and welcoming. It did not take long for Kahlan to be pulled into Ask, letting them wrap their arms around her and take a deep breath in. It was not Cara, but it was a friend. Ask was her friend, and although their relationship with Cara was nothing like Kahlan's, they shared the same fears. Both Ask and Kahlan were here to find Cara.

"Can I ask you something?" Kahlan said, breaking the silence of the night. She felt Ask shift behind her and groan a bit at being woken up from the precipice of sleep.

"Go on."

"How did you know that you weren't a woman?"

"Just look at me," Ask chuckled, a sly smile gracing his full lips.

"No, that's not what I'm asking," Kahlan said, rolling over in their arms so she was facing Ask. They were inches from each other's face, but there was no desire to close the distance and melt into each other. Not like when Cara was beside her, when she was ravenous for her touch. "How did you know where you were wasn't the place you were meant to be?"

"I… I don't know, actually," Ask said, pursing their full lips in thought. "I just felt this insatiable thirst to get out, to escape myself. I would look down at my chest and feel like my whole body was a buzzing wasp nest. People would call me a woman, call me she, and it would feel like they were speaking of someone else. My body wasn't something I couldn't hold onto. It didn't feel grounded."

"Is Ask the name you were given when you were small?"

"No. I gave myself this name," Ask said, wary of the unfolding line of questioning. Kahlan saw his hesitation and stopped herself.

"It suits you," Kahlan said, smiling. "Ask was one of the first peoples, wasn't he?"

"He was. It felt so far removed from man or woman, so it felt just like me."

"You're a very interesting person, Ask," Kahlan breathed, watching as his face relaxed. Her eyes traced down his proud nose, to his angular face, and his plush lips. She wished so badly that he were Cara instead. "I'm happy we met you."

"Why?"

"You softened Cara in a way I couldn't. Even if it was just a little. It was easy for her to like you, there wasn't the same… agony as it was with us. Everything feels so fraught yet so free with Cara and I. There's always something keeping us from each other."

"That's real love," Ask smiled sadly. "When the universe feels like it's trying to keep you apart, it's because your love will break the world. You and Cara are meant for each other like the stars are meant to be in the sky. I believe that."

"What happens if Cara isn't Cara when we get to her?" Kahlan said, a cold fear gripping her chest. Thinking about Cara made her feel like she couldn't breathe.

"I don't know, Kahlan. I don't know."

—

"You still fit so well in your leathers," Dahlia hummed over Cara's shoulder. Her deft hands worked expertly at each buckle, each supple expanse of red leather requiring a new restraint method this way and that. The leather was designed to hug Cara's enthralling, muscular frame, and so it did. Cara's breath hitched slightly as Dahlia's hand teasingly palmed her left breast. Cara's emerald eyes came up greedy, her hand grasped Dahlia's and took two index fingers in her own wet, wanting mouth. Dahlia smirked, seeing that Cara had regained a fair amount of her strength and her needs in the past week or so. She had spent so long mercilessly training Cara until she was cut down to barely anything, a shell of her former self. Dahlia had been worried for only the briefest of moments that she had gone too far. But no pain was too much for her Cara.

It had been surprisingly effortless to build her back up—Cara was a glutton for punishment, especially in the form of physical endurance. Cara had been eager to do morning runs with Dahlia, even when her body could not keep up with her mind and collapsed beneath her. No betrayal had ached more than that of her body. The more she pushed herself, the faster she became, the more she was able to withstand the pain of her body failing. It began to fail less and less, and all the while she could not imagine a life without Dahlia, nor one without being a true Mord-Sith.

Kahlan and Ask had made her soft and therefore weak. She did not need love if it was not the venomous passion which Dahlia pushed into her. Dahlia made her strong, she forced her to confront everything she was. Cara did not have to hide the more monstrous parts of herself to save face, to fit in with Kahlan's perfect plan of how a lawful life should be lived. Cara was no longer burdened with the unwieldy weight of trying to be good. She could simply be what she was meant to be; a menace, a horror, a beast.

"It's all those early morning chin ups we've been doing," Cara murmured, her eyes scorching a path down to Dahlia's breasts, not yet covered by the restraining collar of her Mord-Sith leathers. "They have been serving you well, too."

Dahlia smiled and grabbed hold of the buckle which connected Cara's collar to her breast and pushed her up against the wall. Cara pressed a knee into the valley between Dahlia's legs to make her gasp in pleasure, then wrapped her arm around Dahlia's neck and bent her forward. Dahlia was quick to unsheath her agiel and, without thought, thrust it into Cara's belly. The blonde did not waver, practically numb to the feeling of it for far too long.

"Are you…"

"I can barely feel it, Dahlia," Cara said, a single note of sadness in her voice. "Try again."

Dahlia obliged, trying again on Cara's arm. It was not that she could not feel the pain, but it evoked no screams from her, not even a struggle. The pain was so far away now, like her mind was closing her off to it. Cara felt like her chest was a deep cave, empty and cold. If she did not have the pain, then what in this miserable world could she call her own?

"Dahlia," Cara breathed, letting the blue-eyed Mord-Sith free of her hold. There was something unspoken in her eyes that reached out to Dahlia for help. Dahlia took no time to forcefully press her lips to Cara's, for she knew exactly what the blonde desired; in the absence of pain, she needed aggression. She needed to be alive. Cara hummed in delight as Dahlia's hand ripped off her collar, freeing her from the restrictions of the durable, red leather. Dahlia freed Cara's soft, supple breasts from their leathers too, revealing more and more of her luxurious hips and ample bottom with every tug down the tight end of the material.

"Oh… Cara," Dahlia murmured, her eyes soft with genuine strife. It was impossible to describe the feelings that filled her when she stole even a second's glance at Cara. She was irrevocably beautiful, dangerous, and broken. The wounds which cut up the insides of Dahlia had cut Cara just as badly, they were mirror images of each other. They could not survive without each other, and neither Dahlia nor Cara was sure who was the true image and who was the reflection. It mattered not, for they were together again at last.

"Cara, what am I going to do with you?" Dahlia mused, her fingers easily curling into Cara's core, filling that wanting, needing space with herself. It was a selfless act, between two people with bodies like theirs. Dahlia got nothing but mental pleasure from plunging herself into Cara, but it did not matter. It made their love-making all the more genuine. Without words, Cara's hand went to one of her agiels and unsheathed it, the thin rod whispering promises of pain when her bare palm connected with it. She offered it to Dahlia like she was knighting her with a sword.

"Cara…"

"Please. I need it," Cara whispered, her kisses on Dahlia's neck becoming hungrier. She gripped Dahlia's braid and put the handle of the agiel into her gloved hand. Cara had not been this desperate for her in what seemed like a thousand lifetimes. Dahlia and Cara were starving for each other like the wolf who followed the sun, seeking to swallow it whole. They would never be satisfied. But that was what made their love grand.

"I know," Dahlia said back, her pale, blue eyes darkening with the prospect. "You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?"

Cara grunted and grabbed the end of the agiel and forced it lower, lower, until it was right where all the wetness was dripping down her thigh. Down to where all her sensitivity lay. Where she knew it would hurt the worst. Dahlia's eyes met with Cara's one last time and saw all the world's ferocity within those green orbs. There was no hesitance in Cara's expression, only hot, wet lust. It scared Dahlia. When she obliged this greedy woman, pressing only the slightest inch of the agiel's tip to Cara's inner thigh, Cara purred with pleasure at the pain. Yet, Cara was still ravenous.

"More," Cara begged in her level tone, her hands grasping at Dahlia's shoulders in a strong-willed attempt to pull her closer, closer. Dahlia dragged the agiel down to Cara's slicked clit and held it there for just a moment. It was enough to blacken Cara's sight and claw out a blood-curdling screech which had been living inside her for years. Cara's grip weakened, her body shook, and Dahlia held her up against the wall.

"More," Cara breathed after a moment of resplendent pain. She was bottomless, Dahlia had dug a hole too deep in her and now Cara felt absolutely empty. But the pain was all she wanted, all she needed. It was all she was now. Living, moving, starving agony.

"You are a beautiful creature," Dahlia said, her breath hitching as wetness coated the inside of her leathers where Cara's knee had grazed. "I'll never find anyone like you." She felt herself swelling as she carefully and lovingly slipped the agiel deep into Cara's wanting pussy.

The most delectable pain shot straight up Cara's spine, followed by a rapturous, explosive orgasm. Cara had barely enough time to scream and revel in the pain before her entire body went slack. Dahlia slid the soaked agiel from Cara and followed her to the ground, pulling Cara's limp head onto her shoulder and holding her tight.

"Hush-hush. Hush-hush. Hush-hush."