The noose is closing in about Pearl's neck; she feels it happening and can't help it, has to struggle. Even though she knows the rules of the game say she has to be quiet and just take it, a protesting sob wrenches itself from her throat: "No, I like this but I'm not, I'm not lying--"

The words disintegrate into an incomprehensible whine as her mouth is abruptly stuffed full. She tastes her own want, her own filth, salty and musky and sticky-slick all over Rose's skin. On the verge of choking, but not quite -- the backs of her eyes prickle with the sensation and with her own shame -- maybe she even tears up a little, it's hard to tell when her face is already so very wet with the sweat and steam of the shower. She shuts her damp eyes and sucks. Her dignity's in tatters, her breath coming in shattered gasps through the swollen 'o' of her lips, but she still tries to be as graceful as possible. Sends her tongue darting delicately around and between fingers, across tender skin. As if she could show Rose with her mouth how desperately penitent she is, how useful she can be.

When the water hits her full on, though, she loses it. Rose's aim is perfect -- the pulsating stream strokes mercilessly across her folds, her throbbing clit, and it empties out all of her carefully hoarded nervous control in a single instant. One of her feet lifts off the floor, breaking position as her whole body goes rigid and she can't help the jerk of her jaw as her teeth dig into Rose's fingers for a second before she forces her own mouth back open--