Walk of Shame

Afraid of what Charles was going to do at this point, Nathalie pondered that it wouldn't be as cruel as she was in right now, lest he already noticed that she was awake not too long ago.

But never did she think that he would've poured some water from a leather hug he had on his black leather gloved hand.

The water continued to cascade, drenching her scalp to her unbridled, disheveled fringes and to her face. 

It didn't help that it went down to her neck, then entered her chest enough to wet half the region of her torso.

From the container trickled about a few drops of it that was left, her soaked outfit still continued to spread out, even etching the stark lines of her pink brassiere seen from it.

All this time, Nathalie pressed her lips thin while scrunching her face in disdain for how she was treated but she knew she had to endure it, at least for now.