Her eyes glinted with a wicked light, eagerly anticipating Meredith’s compliance. You’ve learned. Heather merely smirked at the sight and taste of Meredith’s blood on her tongue. As the brutal violation continued, a flicker of anguish crossed Meredith’s tear stained face. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at Heather to seek confirmation. Heather placed her hands on Meredith’s thighs, holding them tight. Tears welled up in her eyes as a choked sob escaped her throat. The lewd slurping sounds of Heather’s oral ministrations fill the room, mingling with the distant whir of the camera and Meredith’s escalating whimpers. Meredith’s train of thought shattered as Heather ground herself harder against her face, drowning her in a new flood of scent and slickness. Any moment, she would snap, would shatter. “Meredith,” Heather began, her words deliberate, “this stage of the initiation isn’t just about tradition; it’s about trust, about proving your commitment to what we stand for. Just breathe and let yourself be into the moment.” Heather said. It clenched slightly in anticipation. The room was filled with the sounds of Meredith’s increasingly needy whimpers and the slick noises of Heather’s teasing fingers as they dance along her dripping slit.
