On that same morning, from within the quaint house across town, there was a single scream punctuated by a longer moan.

The naked form of Grace Morgan lay shaking under her warm, spiderweb-decorated blanket, breathing too quickly and staring at the ceiling above her. Briefly, she tried to focus on the images in her dream before they blurred too much and she gave up.

Moments later, she turned instead to the digital clock on the bedside table. She had woken up exactly eight minutes before her alarm was to go off, but her dream was enough to make her body warm and sensitive, and the wet spot between her legs didn’t feel much different.

Grace took in a deep breath and swung her legs over the side of her bed, sitting up to rest her face in her hands. Trying to focus on other things didn’t help either, but she hadn’t really expected it to. Like always, ghosts of the images from her dream kept flashing across her mind. Dreams like the one she’d just woken up from were an all-too-regular feature for her, and they always left her shaking like this.

After a while, she gave a shaky sigh and reached for her enchanted vibrator in the drawer under the clock. She turned it on quickly, spreading her legs and taking the calming vibrator as deep into herself as she could. She took in a few strokes, then glanced around at her bedroom.

Her brown eyes coasted around her silk and velvet surroundings and neatly organised wardrobes, and she turned the vibrator off, set it aside, and moved to one of them. She drew out her black robe and quickly slipped into the bathroom, where she hung the robe on her door and turned the shower on. In the time it took for her to grab the vibrator, the shower was warmed up enough for her to step into.

The warm water coasted down her dark skin as she stood and relaxed for a few moments. Finally, she turned the vibrator, waterproof and enchanted to the highest degree, on again and slid it slowly inside of herself. She had bought the enchantment from Philandra, the god of lust in all forms, and never once regretted the price. Its primary effect was enhancing the senses and nerves to the point of hypersensitivity, so that Grace could feel almost every part of her body come alive under the water and the vibrations.

Leaning against the wall, Grace let the water caress her breasts and run down her stomach as the vibrator buzzed away inside her. She could feel each drop of water touch her skin, and her eyes closed as she moved her other hand to her chest. A single pinch drew out a long, quiet moan from her throat.

With her head laid back against the wall, Grace’s mind slid into a world of fantasy, where she was being worshipped and could have partners like no one she could have in reality. Though the vibrator was uniquely powerful, it was an equally powerful centaur soldier in her mind - completely at her mercy, and completely for her pleasure.

Her moans became louder as she imagined the centaur bucking into her, and her hips in turn bucked into the vibrator. The water toying with her skin made her back arch away from the red tile and she had to steady herself with an army against the other wall. Bent over for her centaur pet now, Grace pushed herself closer and closer to the point of desperation, trying to hold it off for as long as she could.

Until finally, with a drawn-out moan, she lost control. Her hand balled into a fist against the wall as the vibrator brought her far over the edge, each spasm seeming like a climax of its own.

The ride down was almost as strong as the climax, with Grace slowly sliding the vibrator out, setting it aside on the shower self, and stroking her lips with her fingers to help calm herself down.

Her legs were shaky as she stood and turned the vibrator off. Again, she stood and relaxed in the warm water as the sensitivity faded and she was stuck with the afterglow high. After several moments, Grace reached for the soap and began her proper shower, lathering up her hair and her breasts and caressing her hands down her stomach to her legs.

On the way back up, she stopped to pay special care to her bush and lips, washing away her honey and cleaning up her mess as best she could. But she couldn’t help herself and slid a pair of fingers inside one more time, quickly pushing herself to one last climax before she stepped out of the shower.

As she finished up and began drying off in front of the mirror, her brown eyes looked over her body in blatant appreciation for what she saw. A lot of people had tried to make her turn against herself over the years, tried to make her hate her body like they did, and she still bore scars from the few times they’d almost won.

But after all of that, her body also proudly bore the tattoos she’d put there herself - the black rose curled around her belly button, the spiderweb on her left shoulder, her mother’s sigil over her shoulder blade - and a number of scars she’d received over time, from fights won and fights lost with all sorts of monsters. Most of all, though, her body was the only thing that could bring her such pleasure, and that was well worthy of appreciation in her eyes.