The other twin, the one whose chin still shone with Clara's release, or the stern-faced girl lifted her head.
Her eyes, dark and emotionless, held something new, like a sudden spark that burst inside her heart.
She suddenly thought of a way to escape death, she didn't know of it would work or not, but she had to give it a try.
She quickly sent a mental thought to her sister about her plan, this is their secret that even their drunken father didn't know off, as twins they were born with telepathic ability to communicate with each other.
Both quickly nodded in their hearts and proceeded with the plan.
"Forgive me, my lady," she whispered, voice raw. "I didn't know… I didn't know it could feel…"
Clara arched a single eyebrow.
"Like blissfully? Like being peeled open and remade?" She cupped the girl's jaw, thumb pressing at the corner of her mouth. "You enjoyed it. Don't lie."
The girl shook her head, a tiny desperate motion. "I didn't want to. I swear it."
"But you did." Clara's smile widened. The Evil god seed in her chest pulsed, warm and greedy.
It recognized the truth in the room: shame and arousal braided so tightly they were one cord. "On your back. Both of you. Legs apart."
This time, the twins moved without hesitation.
Their skin, pale, unmarked except for the faint bruises Clara's fingers had left… they settled into the rumpled bedding like a living tapestry.
One sister's hand found the other's, fingers interlocking on instinct.
Clara stood, the black lace nightgown clinging to the damp hollows of her body and simply watched them breathe.
The candlelight mapped every flicker of muscle, every shallow rise of their bellies.
"You've never been with a woman before," Clara said. It wasn't a question.
"No, my lady." The answer came in stereo, soft and almost reverent.
"Then this is a gift. Remember it." Clara knelt between them, the mattress accepting her weight with a sigh.
Her palms landed on two trembling stomachs simultaneously. The heat of their skin rose up her arms. "You, on the left, what's your name?"
"Liria, my lady." The stern girl answered, while still trembling.
"Liria. You're going to watch me make your sister come. You're not allowed to look away. If you do, I'll stop. And then neither of you will be left alive. Do you understand?"
Liria's breath caught. A single tear slipped from the outer corner of her eye, but she nodded. "Yes, my lady."
Clara turned to the other twin. "And you. Name."
"Sera." The word trembled.
"Sera, you're going to tell me what you want. You have three words. Use them wisely."
Sera's mouth worked soundlessly. Her hips shifted against nothing, a helpless roll.
"Your mouth," she finally choked out. "Please, lick my clit."
"Good girl." Clara lowered herself.
She didn't tease. The first stroke of her tongue was broad and flat, dragging upward through folds already puffy and slick.
Sera's back bowed off the mattress. A garbled noise… half-scream, half-prayer, tore from her throat.
Clara's fingers on her thigh kept her pinned.
Liria, true to her word, watched. Her free hand crept to her own breast, palm flattening over the nipple.
Not squeezing. Just holding, as if she needed to anchor herself.
The wet sounds built. Clara's tongue narrowed, tracing the hood of Sera's clit with surgical precision, then softening, swirling.
She sucked the swollen bud between her lips and released it three times in rapid succession.
Each pull drew a sharper cry. Sera's hands flew to Clara's hair, not pushing away, but holding on. Her knuckles whitened.
"That's it," Liria breathed, half to herself. The words carried something close to awe. "Feel it. Don't fight it."
Sera's thighs began to quake. The tendons in her neck stood out.
Clara felt the pulse of the girl's climax before it hit, that telltale fluttering against the tip of her tongue.
She pressed down harder, sealing her mouth over the entire mound, and hummed.
The vibration broke Sera apart.
She wailed. Her whole body jackknifed once, twice, a wild animal movement, and then the tension drained in a long, liquid shudder.
Clara drank the flood that followed, lapping slow now, gentling her through the aftershocks.
When she finally lifted her head, her chin and cheeks glistened. She looked at Liria.
"Your turn. Did watching her turn you on?"
Liria's hand was still at her breast, but now her hips were grinding against nothing.
A sheen of sweat across her collarbones caught the candlelight.
"Yes," she admitted. "Goddess help me, yes."
"There's no goddess here." Clara crawled up Liria's body, aligning their hips.
The heat of Liria's cunt pressed damp against Clara's own through the ruined lace. "Just me. And the things I want. You're going to grind against me. You're going to use my body to get off. Can you do that?"
Liria's eyes widened. The terror in her mind, replaced by something far more dangerous, survival.
To survive, and save her sister, she would go to any lengths… She slowly whispered out, "But you… you're the Baroness…"
"And I'm telling you to ride my thigh. Now."
Liria scrambled to reposition. Clara lay back, drawing Sera's trembling form against her side, and crooked one leg.
Liria straddled it, the slick heat of her settling against the hard muscle.
She braced her hands on Clara's ribs; fingers splayed and began to move.
The rhythm was clumsy at first, all desperate stutters.
"Slow," Clara instructed, voice dropping an octave. "Feel every inch. This isn't a race; it's like a sweet meal. Savor it."
Liria obeyed. Her hips rolled in deepening arcs.
Clara watched the girl's face undergo a beautiful unraveling, the furrow between her brows, the slackening jaw, the way she bit her lip and then released it, panting.
Sera, nestled against Clara's shoulder, reached out and pressed two fingers to her sister's clit, rubbing tight circles in time with Liria's thrusts.
The sisters gasped together, a harmony of shared pleasure.
Clara's own arousal sharpened again, a blade of heat between her legs.
She didn't chase it. Not yet. This was the foreplay of power, the exquisite delay of her own release, knowing it would come later, fed by darker fantasies.
"There," Liria moaned, her thighs clamping around Clara's leg. "There—there—I'm—"
The orgasm crashed through her in silent, seismic waves.
She went rigid, mouth open on a scream that never came, and then folded forward, forehead pressing to Clara's sternum.
Her breath burned through the lace.
Minutes passed. Maybe longer. The three of them lay tangled, sweat cooling on skin.
Then Clara disentangled herself. She stood; legs unsteady in a way that pleased her and strode to the window.
She watched out for a few minutes, then wore a nearby robe preparing to leave.
Just then.
Behind her, the twins stirred. Sera's voice, still husky from screaming: "My lady… will you return?"
Clara glanced back. The two of them lay curled together, satiated and soft, their fear replaced by a yearning that bordered on worship.
They didn't know what was coming. They didn't know what she would do to them, unless they showed some value.
"Perhaps," Clara said. "If you're still awake."
The chamber door swung shut, and her bare feet whispered down the cold marble corridor toward the meeting hall.
Just the Clara paused for a second in front of one of the maids and ordered, "clean up those girls properly, they will be my new maids… they should be well trained within the next few days, don't disappoint me!"
"Yes, my Lady!" The maid replied hurriedly, bowling her head with respect. She then hurriedly left towards the bedroom to clean up.