Page 58 of A Foster Fling
If I put a spell on Abbe, will he be back?
I reach between my legs and swipe my fingers through my sore flesh, bringing them back to my face. Not only are they tinged with blood, but also the evidence of Abbe’s obsession. Right there, in the translucent fluid glistening on my fingers, is the proof of his manic lust-filled episode.
Two fingers slip into my mouth, and I lick my tongue along the rust and bitter tasting fluids. A smile forms around them as I swallow it, and this time, I do send out a spell. If I am a witch, I want Abbe to come back. Only next time, I want him to worship me.
I manage to get myself up the stairs and run myself a hot bath in my clawfoot tub. I start a fire in the large fireplace, then dump my torn and bloodied clothes in there, watching as the smoke and flame rise.
My toes curl the second they touch the bath water, the heat stinging along the sensitive skin. Then I cry out when I finally sit inside the tub, the pain increasing between my legs. But I endure it.
I soak my sponge in the soapy water and clean my chest and stomach. The bite marks on my breasts sting with the soap, and soon enough, the water begins to turn pink. Next, the sponge is between my legs as I cry through the process of cleaning my torn flesh.
I quickly switch out the water, groaning when the fresh water comes in a bit colder than the last. The small water heater here in the tower takes a while to reheat. But the chill adds a soothing touch to my aching body. I dunk my head under and clean my hair, concentrating on the large bump.
Once I’m done and dressed, I somehow make it to my bed and fall into the covers as tears soak my pillowcase. There’s one comforting thought as I drift off… Pearl isn’t the only one who can enjoy a cock.
——
“Zelinda!”
My eyelids struggle to part as the sound of Pearl’s shrill scream pierces my ears.
“Zel! Let me in.”
I want to scream out and tell her to leave. I don’t have the energy to spare on her today, and my body hurts just to fucking breathe. My head swims as I slowly rise from my pillows. She’s going to know there’s something wrong with me.
I slide off the bed, gripping the wall as the room spins, then make my way down the stairs slowly, ignoring her screaming. The back of my head throbs, and it doesn’t help that my hair is down and dragging along the floor behind me.
By the time I get to the large door, my breath is coming in heavy pants, and dark dots line my vision. The space between my legs burns like it’s on fire, and I press my forehead to the metal.
“Pearl,” I call out. “I can’t see you today. I think I have the flu.”
The silence that greets me is a little unsettling, and when she does finally speak, it startles me.
“Zelinda, open this door right now. You have never had the flu a day in your life.”
She’s not wrong. I have never been sick. There’s no hiding from her. If she wants to get in, she’ll find a way, and then this whole thing will be even harder.
As soon as the door is unlocked, she’s pushing her way in to look into my face.
“Oh, dear child,” she exclaims. “You are sick.”
“I was not lying,” I scoff.
The first thing she does is run her fingers through my hair. The wince that comes over my face has her pausing, and those blackened nails touch to the lump on my head.
“What is this?”
“I fell off my bed in the middle of the night. I believe I was trying to get to the bathroom.” I grip my stomach.
“Did you eat rotten meat?” she asks as she helps me up the stairs. I bite into my cheek to stop myself from crying out in pain.
She leads me to the bed, and I collapse with a groan, my eyes shut before my head ever hits the pillow. I don’t care what Pearl finds out while she’s here. I can no longer stand upright or have the energy to speak.
So I succumb to the darkness.
——
Pearl has been with me for three days, and each day I grow a little stronger, but the bleeding continues between my legs. I fear he’s damaged me.