Comments (3 comments, Last comment 8 рік назад)
  • Mr. Iyer was deliberate and intentional in providing me with varied experiences, as he promised. My disappointment at not having a dog was replaced with the consideration of new experiences. Clearly, Mr. Iyer didn’t concern himself as much with my approval or acceptance beforehand as much my following his direction. That recognition that he was taking control was brunette mollified by the recognition that my reaction to him was to comply with whatever he directed. My hand seemed to move out on its own until it grasped the cock. I looked up at Swapnil and found him watching me intently. He had positioned me very deliberately and that seemed peculiar in the back of my mind, but I was so focused on the cock in front of me I didn’t put much thought into why. I leaned forward and licked the underside of his cock. I could feel it move just from that simple action. I lifted it and licked along the length of it. When I reached the top, I pulled the foreskin back to expose the head, opened my mouth and took it inside, sucking on the head, swirling my tongue over it. I did this action repeatedly, licking the length, exposing the head and taking it into my mouth. Soon, the reaction from my cumshot efforts gave me the largest cock I had ever seen. The head was pushed out from the foreskin, exposed and ready for me. I thought the dogs’ cocks were big and they were compared to Prakash, but they weren’t as big as Swapnil’s. I wrapped one hand around the base and saw it was only covering about half the length. I looked up and smiled, again. What would it be like to experience something like this? Then, the doubts about what was happening flashed into my mind. I was a married woman. I had a husband. Part of that union was supposed to be a commitment of loyalty and faithfulness. I had rationalized my way through each new step: the masturbation was self-pleasure; the toys were still self-pleasure; the dogs were not human so they didn’t count. But, now this was a man I was enjoying. By doing this, I couldn’t rationalize it away. I was being disloyal and unfaithful to my vows of marriage and my husband. But, I had had these same thoughts before, even before I knew what this experience might be. I had considered the possibility that this might someday be presented as ass an opportunity. It was a natural progression, after all. In the cool moments of consideration and analysis, I knew I would take the opportunity to again experience a man’s cock that wasn’t my husband’s. I understood that taking that step, that opportunity, might add additional frustration into the marriage, but the path I had set myself on had produced that whether I took this additional step or not. Another consideration came to my mind, though. My husband’s actions played into this, as well. I had learned accidentally that despite our tight japanese finances, he was continuing to gamble and drink with his buddies. Nights that he said he would be working, he was with his buddies. It was an accidental discovery amateur and it had angered him tremendously when he had been caught in his lies. His anger had been such that I feared being beaten more than the slapping I might on occasion get as his drinking progressed. Maybe it didn’t completely justify what I was doing, but he wasn’t without some fault and responsibility. With that determination and acceptance, I became earnest in my efforts of pleasuring and experiencing the hard cock in my hand and head in my mouth. All Mr. Iyer said was that I would have man-cock today. I became diligent in satisfying Swapnil. It became important that he report back to Mr. Iyer that I had pleased him with my mouth and I was determined to take his cum in my mouth and swallow it. Another thing I obviously had never done. “Your hair’s fine?” Chico’s tail was wagging madly as he could smell three bitches in heat and was desperate to mate with at least one of them, or even all three if he could, but for now he needed one. “You mean... you were thinking of it for my sake? James has told me this about my clitoris many times in preparation for our sexual union. cumshot Stepping out she was again met by the same five men as before. Dave: well Paul since you are already over japanese there you can go first. She began to put her mouth on it and bobbed up and down. Mayor Davies?” “Come this way, I'm going to call the cops on this one. The issue didn’t leave at what I saw. The old man had his cock buried inside my cunt. The cream-colored, sheer top was thin enough that you could see the dark circles around ass her nipples. “Thank-you for that. “I love the way amateur Julian is licking my cunt. And she stroke it back and forth as she start to lick it. I knew they would eventually want to fuck and I was more than down with that. When I’d finished showering and cleaning my egg I went to my locker and got dried. He saw nothing but honesty looking back at him, “You want---uh,” a quick shudder rumbled through his balls, “I can fuck you?” I brunette increased my intensity moving around her love box. What is she up to? My brother... my brother...” “Ealaín, what is the way?” I shouted and thrust at the figure. It undulated and writhed, almost like it beat against an invisible fist.
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  • Unarmed and outnumbered, even women who end up passing through here in larger groups have no chance of revolt or escape. The majority of fellow females that I see are naked save for chains which link them together in long lines of servitude. All the Slaver men are armed, most with the hateful goads and a few with blaster weapons which could do more serious harm. Some of the sisters in bondage who mill around us are new arrivals, some are leaving, and some seem to be in service here on the station. I don’t need any skill to tell the difference between trained women, returned back up here and on their way out to be sold, and new captures about to descend into a world of torture and humiliation on the planet’s surface. Processed women have their faces tattooed with the slave-mark – the sign of degradation that they will carry for life. Although I cannot see the implants buried in these women’s skulls – an even more terrible lifelong burden, I know brunette each one of them carries one. For the mark of a true slave is applied only when the girl is implanted. The new arrivals like Ja-alixxe and myself are yet to be marked. These fresh captures usually look terrified and broken and are frequently crying. Processed women have more stoic expressions of acceptance, and some of them actually look eager to be sold. Perhaps anything is better than the horror waiting for us down on the surface. Slavery is everywhere, although not quite every woman at the trading station is destined for lifelong bondage. Some females come in as crew or passengers on ships, and depart on those same ships, only briefly tasting the abuse that will be unending for most. Such women are permitted into the station only if dressed as a slave should be, and they must remain in the company of a registered male owner at all times. A female would be insanely foolish to venture here on her own, for she would immediately be taken. These lucky visitors I see are still slaves, but slaves whose bondage is temporary. They will not have their faces marked, although if their registered owner does wish for a permanent memento, there are still places on the station where the masters can have their property implanted. Private slaves, i.e. those not owned by the planet, have to wear bracelets locked on a wrist, registered with their DNA and linking them to their owner. The information is filed with the Slaver authorities and bracelets are checked frequently. A woman cannot “fake” an owner. There are a number of different garments worn by private slaves. The most common is the wrap, like mine, but in navy-blue. It is greatly coveted by the many Slaver-owned girls, that blue wrap. Wearing blue means you’re not destined to go down to the planet. Wearing that means you’ll leave this hellhole. For a few females, coming here is even a strange form of tourism – women who crave to briefly experience a reality where they are nothing but amateur owned objects of desire, and they venture here with trusted escorts, deliberately seeking time in the bracelet and the navy blue slave clothing. I can guess who these lucky ones are by their expressions, which are flushed with excitement and lack the dead-eyed manner of the others. When I look at those among my fellows who are true slaves, I wonder if I look as broken as they. Two drunks stagger japanese past, singing, and almost knock us aside. The relaxed attitude of the men on the concourse differs dramatically from the women. Aghara-Penthay is a popular destination for male ship crews who flock here here to relax, get laid and enjoy the sight of so many scantily dressed females. Ja-alixxe and I pass a typical crew in dirty overalls, sitting drinking alcohol, and I am recognized for the first time. “Melena de Santo,” a mechanic covered in oil calls out to me jovially. “It’s really you. The news said they’d caught you, but I didn’t quite believe it.” He adds ass with gleeful unconcern, “Man, you’re in for a rough time.” His weedy looking colleague, a fellow perhaps still in his late teens, is groaning with longing as he blatantly looks me over and I feel shamefully aware of my body, of my cumshot femininity. “Whoa, she’s even hotter in real life. Oh, check out her legs,” he says reverentially, staring at my bare limbs with unabashed lust. Unzipping his shorts, she released Henry's cock and kissed the fat cock-head. I winked at her as I pressed the skirt down her thighs, exposing her silky, bare flesh. As she moved to a seat moved in amateur position for her in front of the desk, he admired her lovely girly form. Ahh, the flavor of the feelings flowing through the energy of the moment! The Chinese futa was talking with Lizaveta, Candice, and Ginny. Please?" I pulled Tammy over cumshot me so japanese she was pissing on ass my face and hair. brunette I could feel him looming over me. Preparing to deliver that wonderful spanking that would have me shuddering in delight. After resting for several minutes, I slowly sat up and stared down at Cindy’s gorgeous naked body, studying each and every little curve. Emily was starting to believe the girl would shut up for good, and then she just had to open her mouth again. I was in heaven, and Heather was moaning.