The Birth of a Woman (Elizabeth/Estrella)
First it’s just a meaningless, barely there brush against small, unsuspecting breasts while apt fingers tie up fine laces and suffocate. Elizabeth doesn’t notice, she’s not supposed to. Combing long, silky blonde hair becomes a ritual of worship but the goddess feels boredom only or destructive rage against the angel locks at best.
Undressing the hard, almost boyish form turns into the sweetest of tortures, admiring the unconscious beauty of the young nymph makes a desire-robbed body shiver with need. She’s not supposed to feel. Double-bound in her senseless existence: a woman, a maid.
But this time the mistress of her passions lifts her sensual eyelids and touched by the divine, for the first time in her life, the maid is not a mule but a woman.