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Title: Festered
Fandom: Oz The Great And Powerful
Pairing: Evanora/Theodora
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1201
Notes: Incest. For Femslash Friday, and the Femslash Porn Battle at
femslash_today, prompt "Evanora/Theodora, sin".
Summary: Seduction to the darkness.
Theodora stares up at her, eyes glassy and distant with sorrow. She is breathtaking, even with fresh scars marring her cheeks, tracing the path of her tears.
“Sister,” she sobs, and her voice is so small, so young. “Sister, how could I have been so foolish?”
If Evanora had not sacrificed her heart so many years ago, she’s sure it would break for the pain in her sister’s words.
“Come, Theodora,” she croons softly, and her hand settles over her sister’s throat. She watches the rise and fall of her Theodora’s chest, the shift and swell of her breasts. “Let me help you. Let me heal you.”
“Yes,” Theodora hisses, tilting her head back, the curve of her neck pressing up into Evanora’s palm.
Her surrender is exquisite.
Evanora’s fingers follow the pearls that cascade down over Theodora’s cleavage, her nails scraping slightly over the pure white bodice. She itches to rip it from her sister’s body, to claw and tear at stitches and material until Theodora’s body is displayed before her.
But there is a part of her sister that still clings to the ideas of goodness and decency, no matter how much the Wizard may have hurt her.
Evanora must be patient a little longer, must coax at that sweet darkness that festers within Theodora’s soul.
Her hands trail over Theodora’s waist, and then she is clutching at the fabric of her skirts, easing them higher up Theodora’s legs. The skin of her ankles, her shins, her knees, it is pale and untouched and Evanora feels her eyes narrow in appreciation.
“What are you doing?” Theodora asks quietly, but she does not move to stop Evanora as the fabric of her skirts is pulled higher to reveal her creamy thighs.
“Let me show you, sister,” Evanora murmurs. “Let me allow you a taste of what it means to forget your troubles, to forget responsibility and obligation and pain.”
Theodora nods slowly, her face painted in confusion and aching trust.
Evanora pushes the skirts up until they gather at her sister’s waist, and Theodora’s eyes widen in surprise, instinctively pushing her thighs together. But Evanora grips her knees, slowly easing Theodora’s legs apart, exposing the white satin of her undergarments.
Evanora longs to leave pretty red marks, teeth and nails digging into supple skin, but her hands are gentle as they slide up Theodora’s thighs.
“Evanora?” Theodora whispers, her fingers digging into the plush cushions of the chaise longue.
“Let me give you this gift, sister,” Evanora replies, and the smile on her face is likely too sharp, too hungry, for she cannot hold back any longer.
She reaches between Theodora’s legs to cup her there, her grip firm and insistent. Fingers pressing up against Theodora’s most sensitive places, feeling the heat of her through the satin.
Theodora gasps, her entire body undulating, spine arching and hips pressing forwards in Evanora’s heavy touch.
“Sister!” she cries, and perhaps she is trying for scandalised, but instead Theodora sounds full of awe and awakening desire.
“Embrace this pleasure,” Evanora says, a heady rhythm pounding within her chest, an intense thrill spreading throughout her body. Beneath her dress, her nipples are hard and tender, her cunt growing wet and needy.
She rubs fingers over Theodora’s sex through her undergarments, and the touch is not gentle, it is strong and sure and makes Theodora whimper, rocking into Evanora’s hand.
It is tempting to take her like this, to bring her to completion by allowing Theodora to rut against her hand like a mindless animal. But Theodora cannot merely be passive, if Evanora’s plans are to succeed. She cannot simply receive, she must participate. Her aggression and her lust must be explicit.
There is immense pleasure to be had in the idea of simply watching Theodora’s control and her sense of self unravel, but Evanora wants more.
“Let me guide you.” She pulls her hand back, and the noise Theodora makes in response is almost inhuman. “Let us embrace it together.”
She rises to her feet, and Theodora’s expression is so beautiful, as if something deep and deliciously sensual has been released within her. Theodora’s eyes watch hungrily as Evanora reaches beneath her dress and plucks at the laces that hold her undergarments snug to her hips. The ribbon loosens and the material slides down Evanora’s legs to pool at her feet.
“Together,” she repeats, her breathing fast and heart fluttering that she may finally have this.
Her sister may be entirely too trusting for her own good, may be stubbornly convinced that she can be sweet and kind despite the wickedness she was born with, but in some ways she is a fast learner. Theodora’s eyes do not leave Evanora’s face as she removes her own undergarments.
“Lie back,” Evanora instructs, and Theodora does so instantly, settling amongst the cushions, knees parted.
So perfect, so very lovely, and Evanora has waited for this day for too long.
She straddles Theodora’s chest, her knees pressing down on either side of her sister’s head, and Theodora stares up at her with an expression caught between shock and titillation.
“You will taste my pleasure, sister,” Evanora murmurs, feeling herself throb for the thought of it.
“I cannot,” Theodora whimpers, although the hunger is plain on her face. “It will burn me.”
Evanora’s smile is slow and she bites her tongue against the delighted laughter that bubbles within her. For Theodora could have denied her out of modesty or anger or repulsion, but she has not, her pain the only barrier, and her words make it clear how very much she wants this.
For so many years, Evanora had thought this seduction would be rife with danger, that it could push her sister away and make an enemy of her.
She is not sure if the fraud of a Wizard is to blame, or if Theodora has been unknowingly waiting for her touch all this time.
“It will not burn you,” she promises, fingers tracing the scars on Theodora’s cheek. “Water is pure, and so it hurts you, who is so wicked. Your tears are from sorrow, from love, and so they hurt the evil within you.” She raises her skirts above her hips, showing Theodora the flush and spread of her cunt. “There is nothing pure in this touch, there is nothing virtuous about my lust. It is twisted, as you are, and so my taste cannot hurt you.”
Theodora’s face looks like it may crumple, eyes shining. “Is there no love in this?” she asks, voice hoarse.
“There is lust,” Evanora purrs, and she arches, rubs herself down against Theodora’s chest. “A dirty and wonderful sin. Let me give you this, sister. Taste me, and let me give you relief.”
She cannot tell what Theodora is thinking, and for a long moment she is holding her breath.
And then Theodora’s eyes clear, sadness and confusion blinked away. “I want you,” she says plainly, and her voice is deeper, rougher, like a song to Evanora’s ears.
“Then you shall have me,” Evanora promises, so many years of yearning finally coming to fruition, as Theodora raises her head and finally kisses her, firm and sure, between her legs.
Fandom: Oz The Great And Powerful
Pairing: Evanora/Theodora
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1201
Notes: Incest. For Femslash Friday, and the Femslash Porn Battle at
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Summary: Seduction to the darkness.
Theodora stares up at her, eyes glassy and distant with sorrow. She is breathtaking, even with fresh scars marring her cheeks, tracing the path of her tears.
“Sister,” she sobs, and her voice is so small, so young. “Sister, how could I have been so foolish?”
If Evanora had not sacrificed her heart so many years ago, she’s sure it would break for the pain in her sister’s words.
“Come, Theodora,” she croons softly, and her hand settles over her sister’s throat. She watches the rise and fall of her Theodora’s chest, the shift and swell of her breasts. “Let me help you. Let me heal you.”
“Yes,” Theodora hisses, tilting her head back, the curve of her neck pressing up into Evanora’s palm.
Her surrender is exquisite.
Evanora’s fingers follow the pearls that cascade down over Theodora’s cleavage, her nails scraping slightly over the pure white bodice. She itches to rip it from her sister’s body, to claw and tear at stitches and material until Theodora’s body is displayed before her.
But there is a part of her sister that still clings to the ideas of goodness and decency, no matter how much the Wizard may have hurt her.
Evanora must be patient a little longer, must coax at that sweet darkness that festers within Theodora’s soul.
Her hands trail over Theodora’s waist, and then she is clutching at the fabric of her skirts, easing them higher up Theodora’s legs. The skin of her ankles, her shins, her knees, it is pale and untouched and Evanora feels her eyes narrow in appreciation.
“What are you doing?” Theodora asks quietly, but she does not move to stop Evanora as the fabric of her skirts is pulled higher to reveal her creamy thighs.
“Let me show you, sister,” Evanora murmurs. “Let me allow you a taste of what it means to forget your troubles, to forget responsibility and obligation and pain.”
Theodora nods slowly, her face painted in confusion and aching trust.
Evanora pushes the skirts up until they gather at her sister’s waist, and Theodora’s eyes widen in surprise, instinctively pushing her thighs together. But Evanora grips her knees, slowly easing Theodora’s legs apart, exposing the white satin of her undergarments.
Evanora longs to leave pretty red marks, teeth and nails digging into supple skin, but her hands are gentle as they slide up Theodora’s thighs.
“Evanora?” Theodora whispers, her fingers digging into the plush cushions of the chaise longue.
“Let me give you this gift, sister,” Evanora replies, and the smile on her face is likely too sharp, too hungry, for she cannot hold back any longer.
She reaches between Theodora’s legs to cup her there, her grip firm and insistent. Fingers pressing up against Theodora’s most sensitive places, feeling the heat of her through the satin.
Theodora gasps, her entire body undulating, spine arching and hips pressing forwards in Evanora’s heavy touch.
“Sister!” she cries, and perhaps she is trying for scandalised, but instead Theodora sounds full of awe and awakening desire.
“Embrace this pleasure,” Evanora says, a heady rhythm pounding within her chest, an intense thrill spreading throughout her body. Beneath her dress, her nipples are hard and tender, her cunt growing wet and needy.
She rubs fingers over Theodora’s sex through her undergarments, and the touch is not gentle, it is strong and sure and makes Theodora whimper, rocking into Evanora’s hand.
It is tempting to take her like this, to bring her to completion by allowing Theodora to rut against her hand like a mindless animal. But Theodora cannot merely be passive, if Evanora’s plans are to succeed. She cannot simply receive, she must participate. Her aggression and her lust must be explicit.
There is immense pleasure to be had in the idea of simply watching Theodora’s control and her sense of self unravel, but Evanora wants more.
“Let me guide you.” She pulls her hand back, and the noise Theodora makes in response is almost inhuman. “Let us embrace it together.”
She rises to her feet, and Theodora’s expression is so beautiful, as if something deep and deliciously sensual has been released within her. Theodora’s eyes watch hungrily as Evanora reaches beneath her dress and plucks at the laces that hold her undergarments snug to her hips. The ribbon loosens and the material slides down Evanora’s legs to pool at her feet.
“Together,” she repeats, her breathing fast and heart fluttering that she may finally have this.
Her sister may be entirely too trusting for her own good, may be stubbornly convinced that she can be sweet and kind despite the wickedness she was born with, but in some ways she is a fast learner. Theodora’s eyes do not leave Evanora’s face as she removes her own undergarments.
“Lie back,” Evanora instructs, and Theodora does so instantly, settling amongst the cushions, knees parted.
So perfect, so very lovely, and Evanora has waited for this day for too long.
She straddles Theodora’s chest, her knees pressing down on either side of her sister’s head, and Theodora stares up at her with an expression caught between shock and titillation.
“You will taste my pleasure, sister,” Evanora murmurs, feeling herself throb for the thought of it.
“I cannot,” Theodora whimpers, although the hunger is plain on her face. “It will burn me.”
Evanora’s smile is slow and she bites her tongue against the delighted laughter that bubbles within her. For Theodora could have denied her out of modesty or anger or repulsion, but she has not, her pain the only barrier, and her words make it clear how very much she wants this.
For so many years, Evanora had thought this seduction would be rife with danger, that it could push her sister away and make an enemy of her.
She is not sure if the fraud of a Wizard is to blame, or if Theodora has been unknowingly waiting for her touch all this time.
“It will not burn you,” she promises, fingers tracing the scars on Theodora’s cheek. “Water is pure, and so it hurts you, who is so wicked. Your tears are from sorrow, from love, and so they hurt the evil within you.” She raises her skirts above her hips, showing Theodora the flush and spread of her cunt. “There is nothing pure in this touch, there is nothing virtuous about my lust. It is twisted, as you are, and so my taste cannot hurt you.”
Theodora’s face looks like it may crumple, eyes shining. “Is there no love in this?” she asks, voice hoarse.
“There is lust,” Evanora purrs, and she arches, rubs herself down against Theodora’s chest. “A dirty and wonderful sin. Let me give you this, sister. Taste me, and let me give you relief.”
She cannot tell what Theodora is thinking, and for a long moment she is holding her breath.
And then Theodora’s eyes clear, sadness and confusion blinked away. “I want you,” she says plainly, and her voice is deeper, rougher, like a song to Evanora’s ears.
“Then you shall have me,” Evanora promises, so many years of yearning finally coming to fruition, as Theodora raises her head and finally kisses her, firm and sure, between her legs.