Mousetrap | By : NightDarkSoul Category: +M to R > Princess Principal Views: 433 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Principal, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
--Day 33--
Ange found herself gently woken by the press of soft, warm lips to hers. She groaned softly, responding by parting her lips and accepting the warm, firm tongue that slipped within. She suckled on it, shivering to feel the press of a gentle hand against her breast, under her shirt.
Her eyes opened as the kiss broke, immediately gazing into Kat's eyes. Briefly disappointed, she managed to force a smile on her face.
"Morning," she whispered.
"C'mon you fucking sapphists," Megan hissed. Ange glanced up at her with a frown.
Kat sighed.
"Time to head out, darling."
Ange nodded, and as Kat pulled back she sat up slowly, glancing out of the cell.
Kat moved quietly to the air vent in the wall. Megan watched out through the cell door, and Ange stood more-or-less behind Kat.
After a few moments, she heard a very soft metallic sound. She turned around, and saw that the vent was pulled free.
"Help me up," Kat whispered. Ange glanced back to Megan, who nodded.
Kat scrambled up, with Ange giving her a push from behind. Kat crawled a short way in, then turned around and reached down to pull Ange up.
"Cramped. Hope you don't mind staring at my ass while we move," Kat said with a wink. Ange couldn't keep a grin from forming.
"I shall not, I think."
Megan, with a huff of annoyance, reached up, and Ange pulled her in as well.
"We have one shot at this," Megan said. "There's no way to hide that we've left."
Kat was already scrambling along through the ductwork, and Ange quickly turned to follow.
After an untold number of minutes crawling through the cramped, dark space, they finally saw light ahead of them. After another moment, they came to another duct. Ange glanced back to Megan, then watched as Kat quickly unscrewed the vent, pulling it free, then pushing it outward.
The thee climbed out, to find themselves beside a high stone brick wall. Ange looked up. From here, it looked like a medieval fortress or castle. It may have been at one time, before being modernized into a prison.
"This way," Kat whispered. They moved at a slow, cautious crouch along the wall. They came eventually to a corner, and looked around. They saw the sea, and a distant foggy coastline. On the beach sat a small fishing boat. Two young women, or girls, stood on the beach, glancing around warily. One was tall and voluptuous, with brown hair pulled up short, and a revealing black outfit. The other was younger and shorter, wearing a dark green shawl over a baggy bodysuit. Her hair was orange-brown, and shoulder length.
"Recognize them?" Kat whispered.
Ange glanced at her, then turned her gaze back to the two girls. It could be Dorothy and Beatrice, but at this distance....
"I am uncertain," she replied.
Kat looked at her for a beat longer than Ange was entirely comfortable with, before she turned back to them.
"We can get their names when we get down there, yeah?" Megan asked, a touch impatient.
Ange glanced at her.
"Yes," she stated.
"Alright," Kat nodded, "then we...."
At that moment, a shrill steam whistle echoed through the night. Ange's eyes went wide, and Megan uttered a low, sharp curse.
The girls down at the boat seemed to panic, glancing around themselves and drawing weapons. There was the sound of dogs barking somewhere. Ange saw the squad of armed guards first. They were running along the beach, leading dogs and carrying rifles.
The shorter of the two girls glanced hurriedly at the taller, before scrambling ungracefully onto the boat.
There was the sharp crack of a rifle shot.
The back of the shorter girl's head exploded outward in a spray of blood and brains and bone. Her lifeless body tumbled over the edge of the boat and into the water.
The taller girl screamed. She dropped the gun she held, and fell to her knees, reaching pathetically out to the body of the shorter girl.
The guards were on her instantly, provoking another scream.
Ange was unable to suppress a shuddering wave of nausea.
Before they could see more, another guard stepped around the corner, aiming an automatic pistol at them. He pulled the trigger, causing Ange to jolt back. Megan instantly fell with a ragged red hole in her chest.
Before Kat or Ange could react, a swarm of guards arrived, grabbing them roughly and pulling them to their feet.
They were pushed and dragged back inside the walls of the prison, and taken through dimly lit hallways and through a metal door to a room with multiple seats facing a large window. Gazelle sat in a front row seat, legs crossed. She glanced up as Kat and Ange were shoved into the room. She shook her head and said nothing.
The guards pressed both girls down into seats, and closed the door.
Gazelle nodded, and one guard pressed a button on an intercom.
"Begin," he said simply. There was no acknowledgement. Instead, the light turned on beyond the glass. It was a gallows chamber, a noose hanging down from the ceiling above a trap-door.
After a moment, another door opened inside the chamber. The woman from the beach was dragged in. Her head was covered by a cloth hood, which covered her face. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back. Her outfit had been ripped in several places, one breast bare, her ass and pussy naked as the skirt had been entirely ripped away. There were bruises all over her exposed skin. Ange noted a dribble of fluid run down her thigh.
Kat gasped in horror.
"No," she whispered. She turned to Ange.
Dorothy (or the woman that resembled her, Ange was still uncertain) was shoved underneath the noose.
"Ange, you can stop this," Kat pleaded.
Ange glanced at her with a frown.
"Just one name," Gazelle said simply.
Ange turned to her.
"You could not extract it from her?"
Gazelle glared at Ange.
"She refused to talk."
Ange shook her head.
"You did not give her enough time."
"That's it?! Your friend is about to die, and you can only say that they didn't give her enough time!"
"I did not say she was my friend."
The noose was placed around the woman's neck, and pulled tight.
Kat's eyes went wide.
"No, this... please, say something!"
Ange turned to watch the proceedings.
Gazelle looked at her. She frowned.
"Damn you!" Kat shouted.
"That's enough," Gazelle said calmly.
Kat stood up, fists clenched.
"I can't believe this! You'll let her die? Just like that?!"
Ange turned to her.
"Were you truly a spy, you would know that the lives of two spies, even though comrades or friends, is an acceptable trade to protect countless others. Even strangers."
Ange turned back to the window.
Gazelle nodded at one of the other guards. He glanced at her for a moment, and she nodded again, firmly.
He sighed, and pressed the intercom button again.
"Proceed."
Kat stood, mouth agape, shaking with rage. Ange calmly watched as the guards backed away. The trap-door opened, and "Dorothy" fell through. The noose was drawn tight. Her body jerked once, then went very still.
Kat blinked, and looked at Ange. Ange sat there, impassively.
"I.. I just.…"
"You failed," Gazelle stated evenly.
She looked at Gazelle, and her anger and frustration instantly melted into terror.
"Wait... wait, I.…"
Gazelle drew a revolver from her holster, aimed at Kat, and fired. The girl collapsed, her face no longer recognizable.
Ange glanced at the body, then at Gazelle.
"Was that necessary?" Ange asked in a cold voice.
"Take her back to her cell. Her solitary cell."
"Good. I was afraid the luxuriant diet would ruin my girlish figure."
Ange was pulled up out of her seat, and her hands were handcuffed behind her back. She glanced one last time out the window, where guards were loosening the noose. The body fell down through the open trap-door, and out of sight.
As soon as Ange was tossed into her old cell, and the door was closed behind her, she collapsed to her knees. She closed her eyes, and was unable to suppress a sob.
Kat had been working with Gazelle. The girls that had been killed could have been anyone. Could have been. They might have been Dorothy and Beatrice.
She shuddered, crying heavily as the image of Beatrice getting her head blown off, and Dorothy dropping down through the gallows floor, to have her neck broken by the noose, ran through her mind. She saw them being killed. Them, clearly with no doubt. She tried to remind herself that she had never clearly seen their faces.
A wave of nausea hit her as she saw Beatrice's face clearly, and equally clearly saw the back of her head explode.
She scrambled to the latrine and vomited.
She screamed.
She retched.
She collapsed onto the floor, rolling up into a ball, her knees tight against her chest.
She passed out.
--Day 34--
The stench of shit and vomit forced Ange into wakefulness. She gagged and pushed herself away from the smell. She swallowed. Her throat was dry, burning of bile.
She pulled herself onto the bed, and kicked away her shoes. She lay back and closed her eyes.
She took a deep breath.
It was not them. Surely it was not. They had grabbed two girls that superficially resembled Dorothy and Beatrice. Maybe they were agents, maybe prisoners.
She took another deep breath.
If Dorothy and Beatrice were dead, then Princess and Chise would be alone. Neither were trained spies. Chise was a strong fighter, clever and cunning and far smarter than anyone gave her credit. Still, she did not understand Western culture very well, and did not fully mesh with the methods and philosophies of Western spies.
Princess was also better than anyone gave her credit for. However, she had been raised to be a Princess. Politically she was astute. Had she known where Ange was being held, she told herself, she would have applied so much pressure as to close the entire prison down merely to release her. Even so, she was not a fighter. She was not a crack shot. She was not strong enough to fight her way in to save Ange.
Ange shuddered.
"No," she whispered to herself. "She is."
Ange shivered.
"She has to be."
If Dorothy and Beatrice were dead, it would be up to the Princess and Chise to rescue her. Then together they would take Gazelle and exact revenge.
She shook her head. She couldn't clarify her thoughts. She could only see Dorothy and Beatrice dying, and could only see Gazelle, stripped naked, being beaten to within an inch of her life by a wild-eyed Princess.
The door to her cell opened. She heard a guard enter. She chose to ignore it. She heard a tray set down on the ground.
"I am sorry." It was the voice of the female guard that had been nice to her for a time.
"Die," Ange replied quietly.
There was no response. Ange heard her walk off, and the door closed and locked behind her.
--Day 35--
The next morning, Ange awoke to the sound of the cell door being opened. She opened her eyes, and turned her head. A male guard she didn't recognize entered the room without speaking. He picked up the empty tray and mug, which had been left since yesterday, and placed a mug down on the floor. He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Ange sat up, and glanced at the mug. She looked back at the door, waiting a moment. When the door did not open again, she stood up and walked over to the mug. She ignored the shoes she had been given.
She sat down, and looked again at the door. With a sigh, she picked up the mug. It was water. She drank.
--Day 37--
Ange awoke hungry. She sat up in bed. She had not been given food yesterday. She looked at the mug sitting on the floor, and walked over to it. It was empty. She frowned, and looked at the door.
A moment later, she heard it unlocked. The same guard as yesterday entered, carrying a fresh mug. He blinked, and shifted his weight awkwardly.
She stared at him for a moment.
"Um. Water," he said quietly, thrusting the mug in her direction.
"Food?" Ange asked simply.
The guard shrugged.
Ange hesitated for a moment, then took the mug. The guard looked at the empty mug on the floor, then at Ange. He slowly backed out of the cell, watching her carefully.
--Day 39--
She had been barely able to sleep. Her stomach had been rumbling all night, and what fitful dreams she had were all of food.
Eventually, she heard the cell door open. She looked up expectantly. The same guard entered. He watched her closely, sidling over to the two empty mugs. He set a new mug down, picked up both old ones, and left the room as quickly as he could.
--Day 43--
It was a new routine. Ange barely sleeping, the pangs of hunger gnawing at her empty stomach. Ange opening her eyes when the cell door opened. Ange watching the same guard enter carrying only a mug of water.
--Day 44--
Ange had not slept the previous night. She sat in her bed, eyes wide. She felt weak. Hunger pervaded her thoughts. She didn't want to move. The door opened.
She looked up. The same guard entered.
"Sorry," he whispered, before setting down a fresh mug, and picking up the old.
She watched him leave, saying nothing.
--Day 45 (?)--
It had been too long. Hadn't it been too long? Ange tried to think. It was difficult. It hurt. She felt pain in her torso. Pain that represented hunger. She could bear that. She had to bear that. But where was her water? She had drifted in and out of sleep. It had been too long. Her lips were growing chapped. Her throat was dry and parched. She found that she had no need to use the latrine.
She drifted in and out of consciousness. She blinked, and looked at the empty floor of her cell. Where was the water? What had happened?
She tried to focus on how long it had been. When had the guard last entered her cell? Had they forgotten her?
When she heard the door opening, she looked up expectantly.
The guard that entered was all too familiar to her. She felt icy terror grip her guts. He moved toward her, and she was just barely able to suppress a whimper of terror.
"C'mon cunt. See if you're a little more pliable now."
He reached down and grabbed her forearm. A second guard that looked vaguely familiar grabbed her other.
Her knees shook. Her legs felt like rubber. She made the motions of walking, but she was more dragged down the hallway by the guards.
She was taken into the room with three doors. She recognized the female guard standing there. She was watching Ange, undisguised contempt on her face.
A door was opened, and she was pulled into the room with a chair, and with chains hanging from the ceiling. She couldn't have resisted if she had wanted to. They tossed her on the chair, and closed the shackles around her wrists and ankles. It was almost unnecessary.
She blinked, as she felt the chair pivoted. She looked at the chains. She looked at the door beyond them. The door opened, and Gazelle Flint, flanked by two male prison guards, entered the room.
"Ange le Carré. I give you one final chance."
Ange didn't respond. She wasn't sure if she could.
Gazelle strolled over to the chair, the guards remaining behind.
"Names."
Ange stared at her.
"Name." Gazelle said. "One name."
"John," Ange croaked.
Gazelle said nothing.
"Paul," Ange said after a deep breath.
"George," she said again, licking dry lips with a dry tongue.
"You work with male spies?"
Ange blinked.
"Carol."
Gazelle frowned.
"Wendy. Elizabeth."
"I want real names, Ms. le Carré."
"They... they are real."
"Names of the spies you work with."
Ange blinked, and took a deep breath.
"How... how do you know... they are not?"
Gazelle sighed.
"What is the name of the spy we executed?"
"Did... did you forget. Forget to ask her?"
"What is her name?"
"Off."
"Off?"
Ange nodded.
"First name, sod."
Gazelle took a deep breath, and paced slowly toward the front of the room.
"Do you wish to die?"
"Over... over your happiness? Yes."
Gazelle leaned in close beside her face.
"Do you know how miserable it is to die of dehydration, Ange?"
Ange flinched.
"Do you want to find out?"
Ange didn't say anything.
Gazelle stood back up, and paced slowly back to the other side of the room. Ange weakly followed her with her eyes.
"You may only last a few more hours."
"Good. Tired of this."
Gazelle turned back to her.
"I cannot believe that you would choose to die in misery."
"Better. Better me. Than my friends."
Gazelle watched her for a few more moments, before she shook her head.
"This is absurd."
There was a knock at the door behind Ange. She blinked in confusion. Why would anyone knock?
"Come in," Gazelle called out.
The door opened. Ange couldn't hold back a whimper, as she was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of roasted beef, and potatoes, and carrots, and rich brown gravy, and strawberries.
"Dinner, ma'am?"
Gazelle smiled, and nodded.
"Wonderful. Yes, bring it in here."
Ange turned her head weakly. A guard walked past her with a metal folding table. A second held a similar folding chair. The third held a large metal platter, overflowing with food. All of the food she had smelled, and bread and butter and a tall glass of milk and a bottle of wine, and several bottles of water, and... and other plates. So much!
She watched intently as the guards moved to a position in front of her, setting up the table, and the chair, facing Ange, and setting the tray down on the table.
Gazelle nodded at them.
"Thank you. That shall suffice for now."
They nodded, and walked back, all three giving Ange long, meaningful looks as they passed her.
Ange swallowed. No, she tried and failed to swallow.
Gazelle sat down, and looked over the feast that was set in front of her.
Wordlessly, she ate. Slowly. Chewing luxuriantly on the roast beef. Biting off big hunks of bread. Carelessly letting brown gravy and potato mash dribble down onto the table beside her plate.
Ange tried to close her eyes. She found she couldn't. She couldn't stop watching Gazelle eat.
Gazelle raised a glass of wine, tipping it toward Ange.
"To your health," she said in a too-earnest voice. She then slowly drank.
Ange whimpered again. She shivered. She wanted to pass out. She wanted to die, then and there. She couldn't. She couldn't stop watching Gazelle as she indulgently drank her wine, and ate her food.
Gazelle stretched lazily, and stood up slowly.
"I am nearly full to bursting," she said, strolling over to Ange. She held something in her fingers.
Ange looked at it. It was a strawberry.
"I don't think I can eat it all. What say you, Ange le Carré?"
Ange said nothing. Her eyes were locked on the strawberry. Gazelle followed her gaze, and chuckled.
"Oh. Oh my, did I bring this with me?"
She walked up close to Ange. The girl looked up from the strawberry, to Gazelle's eyes.
"Well. I have no appetite for it," Gazelle shrugged. She held it tantalizingly close to Ange's lips. She could smell it. Almost taste it. Her mouth opened. She whimpered again.
"Oh, I suppose you can have it."
She lowered it slowly to Ange's mouth. Eagerly, she closed her lips around the strawberry. She chewed. The sweet fleshy fruit coated her tongue. The juice dribbled down into her parched throat. Ange shivered. Gazelle chuckled again, as Ange desperately licked her fingers, to suck up every last drop of fruit and juice as she could.
Finally, Gazelle pulled her hand away, and strolled back to the table.
"Would you like another?"
Ange swallowed. Her hunger was unbearable. She shuddered.
"Yes," she whined.
Gazelle turned to her with a smile.
"Really? Where is your self-sacrificing nobility of a moment ago?"
Ange swallowed. It was harder this time.
"Please," she whispered.
Gazelle shrugged, and picked up another strawberry, and an uncorked bottle of water. She strolled back to Ange, and lowered the bottle to her. Eagerly, she parted her lips, and gulped at the water that was slowly poured into her dry mouth.
"Slowly," Gazelle whispered, almost tenderly. "Don't drink too quickly. You'll get sick."
After a few moments, she pulled the bottle away. Water dribbled down Ange's chin. She swallowed, and licked her lips. She blinked, and turned her eyes to the strawberry in Gazelle's other hand.
The dark-skinned woman smiled, and held it down for her. Ange was again eager in closing her lips around the strawberry, eating and savouring it. She licked Gazelle's fingers and her palm.
"Good girl," Gazelle cooed.
Ange shivered.
"You want more? Some beef perhaps? Potato? Gravy? Milk?"
Ange looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes, and nodded.
Gazelle's expression hardened.
"Names."
Ange blinked.
"I...."
She trembled.
"Names. Give me one name, and I shall give you a bit of beef. Give me another, and you shall have a forkful of potato with gravy."
"I ... I can't," Ange whimpered.
Gazelle sighed.
"You won't, you mean."
Ange blinked.
"Please?"
"Will you give me names?"
Ange closed her eyes, and weakly shook her head.
"No?"
Ange opened her eyes. Gazelle frowned, turned, and angrily gripped the edge of the table. With one swift, brutal motion she overturned it. Beef, potato, brown gravy, strawberries, milk, water, wine, and more spilled out onto the floor of the interrogation chamber.
Ange, wide-eyed, looked at it. She whimpered, and sobbed.
Gazelle turned on her with an angry look.
"You refuse the carrot. Perhaps we try the stick?"
Two guards were at her in the blink of an eye, opening the shackles over her ankles and wrists. She was pulled up roughly, and as one guard held her in place, the other tore her pants down. Then the other ripped the shirt off of her.
She was dragged past the spilled food, and past Gazelle, to the chains hanging from the ceiling. She weakly mumbled in protest, whimpering when she felt the shackles fastened around her wrists.
Gazelle stepped over to her, gripped her chin, and raised her face.
"Names?"
Ange shuddered.
Gazelle leaned in close.
"Names!" she hissed.
Ange sobbed, but said nothing.
Gazelle sighed, and stepped back.
"I tried," she whispered.
The chains were pulled up, and Ange was lifted up off the ground, until her toes just barely touched it.
Without warning, a sharp burning pain exploded across her ass, as she was hit with something.
She screamed weakly, closing her eyes.
"Names!"
She was hit across the back. She grit her teeth.
"Names!"
She was hit across the ass, in a different spot.
"NAMES!"
She was hit across the back.
Gazelle sighed. The cuttingly painful hits continued. Ange groaned, and sobbed, and screamed, until she finally felt too weak to even do that. She simply limply jolted with each blow. Her eyes were closed. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Her back bled.
"Stop," Gazelle finally said.
Ange shuddered.
Gazelle stepped over to her, again grabbing her chin. Ange's eyes fluttered open. She could barely see the darker woman through eyes blurry with tears.
"Will you not talk?"
Ange made a very soft whimpering sound.
"You cannot survive like this," Gazelle said softly. Almost as though she was concerned.
Ange shivered, and her eyes closed again. Gazelle released her chin, and stepped away from her.
Ange felt the shackles unfastened, and she collapsed to the ground.
When cold salt water was poured over her back, she flinched, but didn't make a sound.
She twitched once, and then lost consciousness.
--Day ???--
Ange became vaguely aware that she was still alive. She lay face down on a soft mattress. She felt her back and ass tingling. There was no pain. She heard a voice, but she couldn't understand the words. She passed out again.
When she woke up, she was still on her belly on a soft mattress, and covered by a warm blanket. She opened her eyes.
She recognized the room. It was the infirmary. She tried to pull herself up, but a wave of pain washed over her. She groaned, and decided to lay still.
After a moment, the door opened, and a woman walked in. She recognized her. She remembered her.
"Edith," she whispered.
The doctor knelt down beside her. Her expression was sad. She gently placed a hand on Ange's cheek.
"You're safe now," she whispered.
Ange didn't say anything.
"I gave you some water, and I have food ready for you when you're hungry."
Ange weakly nodded.
"Can you sit?"
Ange shook her head.
"Too much pain?"
Ange nodded again.
"Alright. I can help that."
She stood up, and opened a cabinet. Ange watched as Edith pulled out a hypodermic pistol, and an ampoule filled with bluish medicine. She loaded the pistol, and walked back to her.
"This will sting a bit, but it'll get rid of the pain so you can sit."
Ange nodded. She felt the injection point pressed against her arm, and felt a faint pinching, followed by a burning sensation that spread up her arm.
After a moment, she felt light-headed. She blinked.
"What... what was that?"
"Don't worry about it. It'll take away the pain."
Ange frowned, but nodded.
"It's working."
Edith nodded.
"Good. Can you sit?"
Ange very slowly pulled herself up to her knees. Edith gently placed her hands on Ange's shoulders to help her steady herself.
Ange winced, but was able to swing her legs over the edge of the bed.
"Good. I'll get you something to eat."
Ange nodded.
Edith turned and opened the door. She walked out, leaving the door open. Ange looked at the open door. She sighed. For a moment she considered running. She didn't know where the door led. Where was the infirmary compared to any other part of the prison? Even if she got past the wall again, where would she go then?
Ange felt her stomach grumble, and her mouth water, as the scent of food again overwhelmed her. She looked up eagerly as Edith entered, carrying a tray. Upon it sat a porcelain bowl filled with soup, a plate of melon wedges, and a glass of water.
Ange watched Edith very closely, feeling herself tense up. She remembered what Gazelle had done. She could not bring herself to fully trust Edith.
However, the doctor placed the tray down on a rolling cart, and pushed it over by Ange.
Ange hesitated a moment, looking up at Edith. The doctor smiled.
"Go ahead. No strings."
Ange glanced at the bowl.
"Chicken?"
"Yes, chicken soup with noodles. Gives you some protein that you desperately need, but isn't too heavy."
Ange nodded, and picked up a spoon.
"Eat slowly. You'll get sick if you eat too fast."
Ange shuddered at the words.
"Gazelle said that," she whispered.
"Well, it's true. You need food yes, but your instinct to gulp it all down quickly is wrong. Like I say, you'll make yourself sick and undo the benefit."
Ange nodded, and filled the spoon. She looked. It held chicken broth, a small bit of chicken, and two thick wheat noodles. She brought it to her mouth, closed her lips around it, and allowed the broth to pour into her parched throat. She pulled the spoon out, and slowly chewed the chicken and the noodles. Then she swallowed.
Her eyes closed, and she couldn't help a soft moan.
Edith laughed softly.
"Good?"
Ange nodded, and spooned up more soup.
"Don't forget the melons too."
Ange nodded, and after a few more spoons of soup, picked up a small dessert fork to stab a wedge of melon. She brought that to her mouth. They were delicate, practically disintegrating as soon as she put them in her mouth. The sweet liquid made her shiver.
Edith softly placed a hand on Ange's head. She realized that she was again freshly shaved. Ange glanced up at her uncertainly.
"Sorry. I felt that it'd be best, for now. I know you don't want to be bald, but I don't want you to have lice."
Ange shrugged, but didn't say anything. She instead resumed eating, and drinking water, until the bowl and plate and glass were all empty.
Edith leaned in close to her, and very lightly pressed her lips to Ange's cheek.
Ange's face turned red, and she looked at Edith in surprise.
"I'm just glad that you're alive. I'll get you some clothes. I can keep you here as long as I feel it's necessary."
"Gazelle...?"
She can't touch you in here, Ange. It's a concession she made to me."
Edith, still close to Ange, gently cupped her cheeks in her hands. Ange shivered. She closed her eyes.
"Ange?"
Ange didn't say anything. She tried, and failed, to suppress a sob.
"Ange. Please, understand that you can trust me. I'll do what I can."
Ange nodded, and couldn't hold back. She openly cried. Edith wrapped her arms around Ange, and the girl buried her face into Edith's chest, crying and shaking heavily.
After long minutes, Ange sniffled.
"Sorry," she muttered.
"It's okay," Edith whispered. "You're safe here. You can cry. You can talk to me."
Ange stiffened.
"Sorry," Edith said. "I didn't mean about the things they want to know. Not that. Just, how you're feeling. What I can do to help you. That kind of thing."
Ange relaxed.
"Now, lie down and get some more rest. I'll bring you something to wear, and more food later. Alright?"
Ange pulled back from her embrace, and nodded. Edith smiled, and helped Ange to lay down, pulling the covers over her body, and again giving her cheek a soft kiss.
Ange closed her eyes.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo