Sylvie, the Slave Girl (Lily Futa) - Chapter 33 (pt. 2)

Wei Qing went to her room.

As she entered, a faint, unpleasant, musky smell hit her.

The sheets were crumpled messily, with dried, spotty white stains and wet marks faintly visible.

Wei Qing paused, her face showing instinctive disgust.

Two seconds later, she remembered it was her own doing.

Oh… maybe she couldn’t be disgusted.

She stood in place, mentally preparing herself.

She debated whether to bundle it all up and throw it out or wash it.

Considering this would likely happen again, throwing it out each time seemed too extravagant.

Reluctantly, she decided to take it apart and put it in the washing machine.

As she got closer, the obscene details of the stains became clearer.

Her nose twitched guiltily. The erotic smell hit her stronger—dried white semen spots, fluids soaking large dark patches.

The most obvious stain was in the middle, from a mid-session break when, without her c0ck blocking it, a gush flowed out.

Sylvie’s pvssy was fucked red and swollen, the opening trembling, unable to close.

Wei Qing, overwhelmed by desire, barely left the girl’s body after that.

Thank goodness for this not-so-modern place having a washing machine.

But could these stains even come out?

Whatever, she’d just add extra detergent if needed.

Carrying a crumpled pile of fabric out, she saw Sylvie on the sofa, head tilted, silver hair falling by her face.

Sylvie gave her a sweet, soft smile.

“Hard work, Master,” Sylvie says.

Wei Qing glanced at her, looked away instinctively, and coughed twice.

“Not hard, I don’t have to wash it,” she said.

Sylvie blinked, watching her.

The woman quickly went to the bathroom, disappearing from sight.

Sylvie frowned, stood on tiptoe, shifted position—still in pain—and moved to the back of the sofa. She stopped, able to see her again.

In the bathroom, Wei Qing lifted the washing machine lid, stuffed everything in, touched her chin, and poured in detergent.

Sylvie soon stifled a laugh.

… She poured a bit too much, didn’t she?

But the woman would sleep with her tonight, right?

The laundry wouldn’t dry in a day or two.

Happy.

–

Sylvie’s discomfort eased surprisingly fast.

She didn’t know it was the apple pie’s effect.

They went out for a walk and came back.

That evening, after a bath, the woman came to her bedroom, applied medicine to her back, and Sylvie applied it elsewhere herself.

“The mark on your back is much better,” the woman said, touching her shoulder blade, her voice satisfied.

“Another half month of this, and it’ll be completely healed,” she added.

Sylvie hummed softly and turned her head.

“Master, are we sleeping together tonight?” she asks.

She asked despite knowing.

The woman paused.

“What, you don’t want to?” she asked.

“No… I want to sleep with you!” Sylvie said, taking a breath, her voice faintly urgent.

Wei Qing chuckled, paused, remembered something, and pinched her neck.

Her fingertips were gentle, her voice slow, like a soothing prelude.

“Okay, you want to… how much?” she asked.

The woman’s voice softened.

Her hand didn’t move away.

The damp, warm fingertips with leftover ointment rubbed, stirring a shiver.

Her hand slowly closed around Sylvie’s nape.

“I…”

Sylvie tried to turn, but the woman’s slender fingers held her face.

Her voice was pleasant, soft, and she leaned closer.

Her voice sounded by Sylvie’s ear, a bit sudden.

“Good girl, do you… want to help me with your mouth?” she asks.

Sylvie’s pupils widened slightly.

Something soft brushed her bare shoulder faintly.

She turned, meeting the woman’s narrow eyes.

Wei Qing seemed to coax, repeating herself.

“Good baby, do you want to help me… lick it?” she asks.