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Agatha is laying on their bed when Evanora comes in. Hips still twitching and skirts around her waist.
Before she can utter a word, Agatha feels a cold hand tighten around her throat—dragging her into the centre of the room.
Evanora sets Agatha kneeling, her hand leaving her throat to claw at the underside of Agatha's jaw. Tears prickle at her eyes as she's forced to meet her mother's gaze.
'Mama, please. I won't do it again, I'll be good. I promise!'
A thumb pushes her mouth open, silencing any further pleading from Agatha. Agatha's tongue automatically coming to meet it.
'Slattern.' She spits out.
Letting Agatha's chin drop, as a tear rolls down her cheek.
Before Agatha can catch her balance, hot ropes of magic bind her hands and feet together behind her back; uncomfortably presenting her body to Mother. And with one final wave of her hand, Agatha's clothes disappear, leaving her subject to the draughty room.
Evanora kneels down in front of her as Agatha begins to squirm embarrassingly—it could almost be endearing.
A hand grips Agatha's hair, pulling her head back to meet her eyes.
Cold fingers reach out to run along her folds. 'Such a desperate little slut, aren't you.' A sharp smack comes down on her clit before starting to circle lazily, forcing a whimper from Agatha.
'Now, as you have been letting yourself give into these urges, I think it's time you learnt to control them.'
Evanora's hands leave her body, and Agatha is left grinding into the air.