“Yes, Miss,” replied Edward uneasily, fearing some subtle trap. Any response he might give could spark her mischievous temper, yet to remain silent would be, essentially, to disobey and surely guarantee some even more awful punishment. “Th-thank you, Miss,” he added what he hoped was proper deference.
“Good…” she murmured, rolling her shoulders slightly in a pretty little stretch.
For a moment the upstanding rosy peaks that tipped her pale breasts seemed to wink out of and then back into visibility, like some fleshly dark fireflies haunting the dim bedroom. The pattern repeated itself, confusingly. It was strange, he thought, most strange—and then suddenly his disbelieving mind interpreted the unreadable pattern for what it was. She was touching herself, the boy realized in awe, pale fin
