Soon I can feel Wang lubing up my ass – a courtesy afforded only to Slaves in highest favor – and reflect on my good fortune as the skinny Asian enters me with a sqlch. Look, your friend’s throat feels the prick of cold steel.”
Kitty sees the black man’s fist tense, the knife just nicking her friend’s throat, a crimson stripe dripping to the collarbone of the frightened, blue-eyed teen. Bokepindo Ski-mask gently caresses Kitty’s labia with the head of his cock. Languidly he orders Wang to attach the chain to my collar. Ski-mask has a gun in Kitty’s face and before she knows what’s happening she hears: “You scream, you die, understood?”
Kitty nods slowly, mouth suddenly drier than the Mohave, Sahara, or any damned desert.
