Sortie / Day One / Revulsion

From All The Fallen Stories
Jump to navigation Jump to search

It is easy to rile up the sense of physical revulsion she feels at the slimy smear drying into scales on her belly and lap.

As you pluck the string of her disgust, she begins scanning the room, wide-eyed, seeking some way to get the fluid off of her body and hands without smearing all over her personal things. When no solution presents itself, she tucks front of her pajama top under her chin to keep it from falling into the slime on her belly. She then rapidly scoots to the edge of her bed, and then gingerly hooks her pajama bottoms and panties with her still clean pinky fingers and pushes the unsoiled clothes down off of her legs.

The top presents more of a challenge, but she eventually settles on wiping her fingers vigorously against her own bare chest so she can pull the top off over her head without dirtying the pale blue fuzzy cotton fleece.

Now naked, she hops to a stand, and pulls her bedroom door open, too grossed out about the yellowing cum smeared all over her to care about modesty. She darts down the hall to the bathroom, only to find the door locked. She pounds on the door with her open palms, desperate and heedless.

The older boy, whom you will later learn is named Alexander, is tall and muscular, with near-black eyes, mocha-brown skin, and handsome hawk-like facial features. His thick, coarse black hair falls to his waist.

This striking hair and his naturally smooth chin reveal his Native American blood. It is not clear whether the hairlessness of his body is congenital or the result of manscaping.

For a long moment she is left there, a naked waif dancing from foot to foot, her arms cocked out at her sides, her hands waggling uselessly as she nearly gags on her revulsion. At last the bathroom door opens in a puff of warm steam. Sara pays no attention to the bronzed young man wearing only a towel at his waist, instead she dodges past him into the safety of the bathroom.

As she pushes the door shut, she fails to notice, (though you do not) the lingering gaze and quirked half-smile of the older teenager.


There is nothing for you to do but...