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So filthy. I didn't care. Mr. Savage usually had me describe any sex I had that he wasn’t present for him in detail. I thought of that too. Being hooked up to the milking station while I was being fucked or maybe he would have me entertain everyone with the details, he had done that too while I was being fucked. Being fucked and being made to describe humiliating sex acts in detail whatever they may have been but also I had to be honest about how much I had enjoyed them. It always made my cheeks burn. Admitting how much I had liked whatever depraved act it had been. How much I liked being used for my Master’s ultimate pleasure. He loved hearing about it. He would often cum over my face as I told him. The woman got up and started putting her clothes on. She looked at me. “He has the recovery of a teenager.” She smirked and went off I assumed to relieve what I also assumed was her husband. I was still on the older man’s lap. He came over and pulled me to my feet. They took me through to a bedroom. He tossed me down on the bed like a rag doll. I didn’t know what to do. “Don’t you dare move slut, stay right where I put you.” He undressed. The older man got some rope out. One bound my breasts and the other my hands. My hands went on a hook which they had attached overhead. They attached a spreader bar between my knees. They put a bit gag in my mouth like I was a horse. I had never had one of those in my mouth. Then they both stood back and took some photos. “These are for George and us of course.” The man rubbed my tattoo, my mark. Pushing his fingers inside me. “George is very lucky to have his mark on you. You little whore, you love this, your cunt is dripping. I know my wife just cleaned you out and you are positively dripping again. I think you need a little spanking. I think you are such a filthy little girl you should always be spanked, don’t you think so dad?” The older man just responded with his hands on me. They took turns spanking different parts of me. My ass, my bound breasts, my exposed spread pussy. I flinched and squirmed and moaned and I loved it. My ass got redder and my pussy wetter. Finally, they decided to fuck me and I felt them both drive their cocks into me as I hung helplessly between them. They alternated between driving into me at the same time and cramming their cocks together inside me and one pulling out while the other pushed in. It drove me wild. My orgasm built quickly and they could feel me cum hard on their cocks, my muscles contracting wildly against them. They weren’t done though. They kept going for what seemed an age, pounding me so hard, pulling on my poor breasts. The old man reached for the wand. He pressed it hard against my clit and sent me into wild spasms, I couldn’t control myself but he wouldn’t let up. It was too much. I was screaming through the gag begging him to stop. Begging them to cum inside me, please. My left hand moved to my right tit and my right hand slid down to my pussy. Slowly he rubbed closer and closer to her luscious little pussy. “OHHHHHHH FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK. Their key person is a woman named Sandy….and don’t you smirk because Sindee won’t like it…ha, ha,” Jennifer tells me. I smiled as I swung my legs up and got into position and stayed there looking out to sea and the yachts that had arrived for the day. His closet door had been open just a touch, and I must have seen a flash of white lace or something, just enough to register as something I wouldn’t expect to see in Alex’s wardrobe, but once I found the dress, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. She finally spoke to me without hiding behind her phone. Call his bluff in the hopes he is bluffing. "Well, she didn't kiss me, he did." Ankle goes to pulley, to pulley, to ankle. The whole idea made her ever more desperate for doing it. I found them. Jane's head darted left and right as we headed towards the booster packs. She is about four years older than my Mom, and you would think she was Mom's sister instead of Sister-in-law. “What do you mean?” “Neither am I.” Carrie said. Well, here's how you can earn it, whore. I smiled at him and was pleased that I’d had those drinks earlier. “Did you guys know we could hear you? I said well that sounds ominous what’s the catch.

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Women are the stronger, the more moral.” “You have nice tits,” Wagner interrupts, “I’d like to see them.” White Queen is thrown for a moment by Wagner’s lewdness but regains her composure. “That kind of talk just proves my point. You are the one who is a slave. A slave to your hormones.” The noise of the crowd is building. They know what’s coming. Ithya doesn’t.“Would you say then the moral decision could be to bare your breasts for us? We weak men all want to see… Don’t torture us by keeping them covered.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” “To help a woman, maybe? What if you had to choose between fucking the princess over there with your strap-on, or showing us all those fine hooters?” Wagner presses relentlessly. “What would be the moral answer there? She’s a broken slave, after all. She’s betrayed womankind. She deserves no better than being raped.” White Queen’s eyes widen briefly as she understands this year’s ritual humiliation, but then the same expression of steely resolve returns. “Is this choice a hypothetical one?” “No. I want you to choose. I order you to choose, an order from a man to a woman, and act on that choice.” Rape Runners have their implants temporarily activated during the launch show. So with the word “order” Wagner has delivered the coup de grace. She has to choose, and go with the consequences. “Fine,” White Queen snaps, and her hands reach for her shoulder straps. “But remember what I said. Defeating me changes nothing.” She bares herself with same bravado that Twisted Elle possessed, but the heroine of our world is cursed with much fuller breasts than the punk girl, and the crowd roar out their lust and their scorn for Ithya. There can’t be any logic to men - her pale flesh is perfect and she has large rubbery nipples. Her body should be an object of pride, but they shout out their contempt anyway. The broadcast’s producers have to rebalance the sound for the rest of White Queen’s interview, so we can hear over the unending verbal abuse and obscene suggestions for the Hunters should they catch her. His eyes flicked up and down my body. That beautiful welt formed, that mark of my passion. I can only imagine what you two did that weekend, though, I don’t need to do too much imagining, you really should make sure your laptop is unplugged and shut down, mi amigo, you never know who’s listening in.” She laughed brightly. He grinned and told me that I was wearing everything that he’d bought for me to go swimming in. I felt the hard thick end of his dong bobbing up and down deep inside my guts near my belly button, with each massive flood of Kings Semen that was breeding me. I whimpered too, and cried like a Bitch in heat over and over as the continuous flaring spasms of his giant bulb against my churning gland pushed glob after glob of clear fluids from within me, my boy-juices running out my peckerhead in a constant stream as the trembling Doberman continued to cum. Abhi removed remaining hooks and ran his palm on them over the bra. She said with a giggle. You just hang back and follow her lead.” “Any movement.....” I said gasping. This story is the third part and the continuation of the second part 'My work in the red room'. Mother nature painted in the style of Vincent van Gogh. After a while Emma and Clara joined me. One of the things that we talked about was the length of time that we’d gone without wearing any clothes. “How’s it feel?” Were they sixty-nining? There is a juicy pussy staring me in the eyes that I have just licked and sucked until she has shot her wad. “She’s not like them.” “What’s this thing all about? She was wrong. When I had them up to mid thigh I stood and buttoned the stockings to the garter and then slid the panties on. Yeah, he was cartoonishly bad to me. He kept saying these things that I know you in particular will react angrily to. First down her back and butt, then I turn her around and start on her front.


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