We Mustn't Upset Him

In the suffocating grip of grief, Katie (Lulu Chu) crashes into the home of distant kin Wanda (Dee Williams) after her parents' brutal wreck claims them. Harold, Wanda's shadowy husband, is off on some endless deal, his ironclad edicts already hanging like smoke in the air. Katie chokes down the overreach, grateful for the shelter from the storm. Weeks bleed by, Harold a ghost—slipping out just as she stirs, vanishing on phantom jaunts. Yet his phantom claws sink deep: Wanda tightens the noose, chaining Katie's every move to appease the absent tyrant's code. Paranoia creeps in; Katie scents the rot of Harold's soul-crushing reign, Wanda fraying at the edges, eyes haunted by unspoken torment. Fueled by reckless empathy, Katie corners her, whispering a twisted bargain: let me bare my ass for your hand, purge the poison he's fed you, shatter his spectral hold. Wanda cracks, her palm cracking against Katie's quivering flesh in a frenzy of slaps and gasps. Clothes rip away in the dim haze, bodies collide in a savage lesbian storm—fingers plunging into slick heat, tongues lashing swollen cores, hips grinding with feral urgency. Katie's cries echo as Wanda devours her, scissoring thighs slick with sweat and release, nails raking backs in ecstatic fury. Dawn breaks on Wanda's fractured gaze, a spark of defiance flickering. But Harold's return looms like a blade—what fury will he unleash on this forbidden blaze?