WitchFall

***** This is a particularly dark erotica with horror elements.  Please read with caution. ***** "Do you know what shame is, Saria? Do you fully understand it, in truth?" He began to walk around me. "It's what I'm feeling right now." "Yes. But why?" "Because what you're going to do to me is wrong." "Ah, ah." He tsked. Strolling around the table and dragging his hand along it as though it were the most perfectly formed thing in creation. "Let's be honest, shall we?" He gave me a chiding look. "It's not merely what I'm going to do to you." His voice rose in a pleasant, friendly way. "It's what you've invited me to do." "Invited?" My voice rose on a shrill note. I massaged the bicep I gripped in an effort to soothe myself. Still standing naked and fighting the urge to fully cover myself. "I've invited nothing!" "Haven't you?" He tilted his head thoughtfully as he rounded to stand next to me. Facing the table but nearly shoulder to shoulder with me as he peered sideways. "Wasn't it you that followed a man into the woods, alone?" "I-I..." "Wasn't it?" He demanded. "I did but-" "And did you not sit behind that bush and watch me unclothe and climb into that water. Did you not stare at every inch of my flesh as I do yours, now?" My face blushed with shame. I did. But how'd he know? "How-how?" "I know many, many, things Sweet Spitfire." He turned to prop his hip against the table and drug a thoughtful finger from my collarbone, down my shoulder, and along the outside of my bicep. "Did you not then spread your legs for me to enter you on my Dining Room table? Where any of my staff could have watched you splayed out like a wanton?" "That's not-" I started defensively. "But it is, isn't it?" He c****d his head questioningly. "At the end of the day that is what you did. Then a man invites you to his residence in the dead of night to spread your legs for him yet again...And here you are." He gestured to me. "Ready to spread your legs for me again."