Okay but Carmilla masturbating is doing things to my brain chemistry.
Carmilla unable to sleep at night, her body tense and thoughts racing.
She’s so stressed about the upcoming extermination and frustrated by the outcome of the overlord meeting and she’s going to be absolutely useless tomorrow if she can’t fucking fall asleep.
She’s been ignoring her body recently. Just because she’s a CEO and Overlord doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the same needs any sinner would, and that includes sex. She’s got a high drive and has had even less time than normal to satiate it. She’s been constantly wet and aching, and while it’s something she can ignore during the day, at night it’s another matter entirely.
So she’ll throw the blankets off her, enjoying the cool bedroom air against her heated skin.
With one hand covering her mouth (she can be loud and she doesn’t want to wake the girls) she traces a path down her body with the other. Groping herself hard and arching into her own palms. Teasing her nipples long enough that she wonders if it’s not too late to call someone to suck her tits while she finishes herself off. She knows at least two people who would. But they’d probably want sex after and Carmilla is in no mood to reciprocate; she wants to focus on her pleasure and her pleasure alone, cumming as many times as she needs to relax.
And when her fingers find the wet heat between her legs she could practically cry. It took many years to get used to such large hands but she can’t deny they have their perks sometimes—like when she can slide only two fingers in and feel so deliciously full.
She’s been with her fair share of sinners and almost nothing can compare to how her own fingers feel inside her. It’s better than any dick or strap she’s had yet, anyway.
Thank god she’s covering her mouth, because the little noises she does make would otherwise be full blown moans. It feels so fucking good and she can’t stop a few hot tears from running down her cheeks. She needs this, needs to be touched and stroked and taken care of until her stress just melts aways.
All the way in, curling to stroke that sensitive spot inside her, sliding almost entirely out and then thrusting hard back in.
Carmilla loves it, gets off on that feeling of being filled and massaged so intimately. It’s to a point where she can have the most powerful Asmodean vibrator on her clit, but if there’s nothing her walls can clench around on there’s no way she’s going to cum very hard. She’s just so deliciously sensitive and warm inside, and with her demon form masturbation has never been more satisfying.
She doesn’t even have it in her to feel embarrassed about the slick sounds echoing across the high ceilings, or be worried about the wetness that drools out of her cunt staining the dark purple sheets.
And when she cums? Oh there’s tears and slick and cream all messily dripping out of her; she shakes, so unlike her, from how wonderful it feels to finally receive the stimulation her body has been craving. She melts into her bed, heedless of the mess she knows will be annoying to clean up in the morning, body loose and relaxed enough slip into a deep sleep.
