I felt myself get harder under me and I flexed my internal ass muscles to feel the firmness of that visiting piece of man meat and in reaction to my excitement.He wants more than your hand he wants to be kissed.I’m sorry, wife said Lorraine.The entire interior felt sterile, as if it had been cleaned and re-cleaned several times.Then down to the closet.I never expected a girl to do that.She left to the closet, where we keep such things, and returned to the front room.I returned to the front room, thermometer prop in hand, sat down and talked to quietly with Terry for a few minutes.Even after she shat in my mouth, granny I still loved her.I then took the wire switch and held it out in old front mom of Karen and told her to hold it between her teeth, which she did.Jen immediately began to undo my buckle and pull my jeans and underwear down.Now she licked her lips and nodded.Low chuckles reverberated through the musky air as Amelia felt her heart skipped a mature beat. A large speeder roars into camp and men jump out, ten of them, laughing and talking like they’re on their way into a bar. I see several different faction badges. I’m expecting them to go into one of the buildings but they all stop, conversation dying as they stand to stare at me here displaying my breasts.Their arrival seems to trigger mature something. The tension ramps even higher, for it won’t be long now. Other men begin to emerge from the buildings and gather around, slowly forming a circle with me at its center. Most of them are in the uniform I take to be Salarin’s Slaver faction. Come and watch Melena get raped, the entertainment spectacle of the year. Twenty, then thirty, then forty, all watching me. Dead eyes rove over my body, exploring where hands will granny soon follow. I avoid returning eye contact with any of wife them.The atmosphere under the desert sun turns uglier and uglier. My stomach feels like a lead weight in my belly. Even Palonae senses some of it from within her well of unconsciousness and she looks up at me with dark tear-reddened eyes, and shakes her head. Oh please, oh please, oh please, no, not this.And then Salarin reappears, head high like he’s a great statesman. I hear a murmur of expectation from the watching crowd as he strides purposefully across mom towards me. The Sadist carries objects of cruelty in his hands – a old vicious serrated bowie knife, and worse – a wand like some electronic relay baton.He takes his place, standing before me again. Only inches separate us.Wordlessly Salarin raises the knife so I can get a good look at it, and without ceremony slices away my elasticated top.