Her eyes were gone and she had no shape. Thus this fearsome Mistress of the Day who while she had the light, believed in the light, that she might be a child of the light, in his world clotted into a dark gelid shell of fishy incense, rotting taste, and warm cunt only. In starlessness the sire would breed her. He would batter her perineum. He would bloody her cervix. He would make her bleat like Sexy Babe a demon if he wanted to. He would degrade this formless breathless child on a japanese blackened stage in an unseen amphitheater beside the Winged Sentinel of Heaven. He would tie with her for nice ass hours, in his pleasure letting her freeze before a crowd of uncaring obsidian eyes. He had to. He was obligated. He was compelled. It was his nature. Epilogue Time has slipped away from me, fifteen years since I wrote the allegory. I have defied nether time nor night itself, nor its infirmities. Just as in memory the narrative and the wish become one, so its passions and meanings blend to and indistinct whole. What did the story mean? Did she survive that night? The professor found her mid-morning the next day, laying spread-eagle and naked on that ratty old knapsack. She was groggy and incoherent. She remembered only cold darkness and a feeling of being adrift throughout the night. Moki was oriental lounging about 60 yards away, quiet, but watching as always. This he told me in an email, not in a text, a few months later. The professor mentioned that he had wrapped Susan in some blankets, revived her with a swill of Old Gawdawful, and washed her feet as best he could. He said he rushed her to San Juan Regional in Farmington, where she recovered within a few days. The professor brought her home to the McDonald ass fucking Ranch in the Jornada del Muerto to regain her strength. She left him six days later, trusting Moki to his care. She glanced over at Warrick, but he was either too focused on the movie, or perhaps too focused on massaging the nymph in front of him to notice the two of them. With that Julie removed a wad oriental of notes from her handbag on her lap and placed them on the table in front of her. Only a true fuck slut could manage to get it in her pussy, and then once forced in. it was painful to get out. What the fuck? Huge goblets fell onto her gold necklace, and all over her mouth, chin and breasts. As the paint dried it gripped my skin. I want to tell them they can fuck you Katie. I'd edited Vern to believe it was okay to fuck students, particularly Kyleigh. To Sexy Babe attend to and pamper that penis that’s the job of a sex slave. Elise finally smiled. Her beautiful blonde hair looked shiny as I watched her. Emily japanese placed a glowing finger ass fucking on Melissa's clitoris, creating an instant explosion of pleasure that wiped all others nice ass clean.