Speechless

"I hate you," Violet spits. Veruca smirks, twirling a curl around her finger.

"And I you, Violet darling," she says, the words rolling off her tongue in an aristocratic lilt. She lays a hand on Violet's shoulder possessively, eyes never straying from the sea before them. Violet stiffens and looks at the hand with an expression of disgust, but doesn't move or speak a word in protest.

Later that night, Violet comes screaming Veruca's name.

Veruca closes her eyes and reaches climax silently.

They scratch and bite and grind and torture each other relentlessly. They are passionate and desperate and they never exchange a word.

Words are unnecessary, because no words can express how the two girls feel toward one another.

Violet needs to be dominated, and Veruca needs to be needed.

Love has never been part of the equation.