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Welcome to a new installment of Blunder Woman's adventures...

Dianthe felt his hand on her skin, on her tit, rubbing it gently. She wanted to scream, to curse. She wanted to tear free of the bands holding her and rip Bistritz’s arm from its socket. But she kept still, instead feeling the rage and shame bubbling up like bile from the pit of her stomach as he played with her soft womanly orb. He pressed his palm against her, forcing her nipple to push up against his hand. Dianthe breathed out loudly through her nose but otherwise made no sound.

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