Valentina's throat constricted with every swallow. The texture was the worst part: the thick, slippery mucus of her own arousal mixed with the heavy, cloying weight of Rex's seed.
Each gulp felt like she was swallowing her own dignity.
GULP... SCHLICK... GULP.
Tears streamed freely now, hot and relentless, dripping from her chin and landing in the white slurry on the plate with soft plip... plop sounds. Her stomach twisted in a nauseating conflict between primal hunger and spiritual revulsion.
'I am eating myself,' she thought bitterly, her mind fracturing further with every swallow. 'I am eating the evidence of my own violation.'
'God help me... if there is any God left in this cursed kingdom... let me die before the plate is empty...'
The silence of the dining room was suddenly shattered by the creak of a heavy wooden door down the hallway.
CREEEEAK.
