Oh god… What had she just done? Sex She had to show her father she wasn’t afraid and she knew that if she did, he would hate it. The dirty whispers that broke all social taboos, urging her to continue as he listened to his daughter do something that no father should ever hear. Every cough, every sleep-induced mumble, every-sigh of pleasure from Miss Little’s room as she no doubt played with herself as was custom. The air was cool, and she could see the moon light through her curtains. She stared up at her ceiling for a moment, the clouds painted there upon light blue when she was but a little girl; they took shapes of smiling faces and a prince and his princess dancing for the sun. Every night Sarah heard the same sounds from her room, which was right next to her own; she sometimes wished she could actually see what Miss was doing, to see for her own eyes what method of touching, what tool caused her to forget her silence, or be unable to control it.
