Chapter XIII
"Maturing"
Part 36
Anna’s ass f***ing throbbed, a deep, dull ache that screamed of last night’s filthy “games” with Kitty. Every step she took sent a fresh pulse of soreness radiating through her, but instead of wincing, she wore it like a goddamn medal of honor—a shameless testament to how far she’d let herself spiral into sluttification chaos.
Still, the discomfort was fleeting compared to the nagging thought that had wormed its way into her mind that morning. "Mommy hasn’t had her dose of fake beauty in quite a while," she muttered with a wry smile, like addressing Mr. Impy.
In front of her, perched stiffly in the salon chair, Mrs. Swanson looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her processed hair sat in a frizzy halo as the stylist prepped her for extensions. The older woman’s timid gaze flitted to Anna, filled with a mixture of disbelief and quiet desperation, as if begging for an explanation. Why? it seemed to ask. Why have you turned into this plastic scarecrow?...
Anna, of course, didn’t give her the satisfaction of answering. She didn’t even meet her mother’s eyes. Her own heavily-lashed gaze stayed distant, cold, assessing Mrs. Swanson like she wasn’t even a person—just a doll waiting to be dressed up and reshaped however Anna saw fit...
SaidNuffman
2025-01-26 17:51:27 +0000 UTCSheilaSecrets
2025-01-26 17:33:38 +0000 UTCEselle
2025-01-25 23:11:09 +0000 UTC