The lengths of smooth timber disappeared between their arse cheeks as their knees bent and their empty cunts gaped wetly and hungrily above the invading pegs. Again, they drank each other’s souls through their eyes in a deep, mutual stare and then, as though rehearsed many times, they reached out to slip their wrists through the leather loops at the ends of their crossbars and kicked out, propelling the steps away over the floor so that each was helplessly transfixed on the sedile stabbing up into her bowels. They screamed silently, and piss spurted briefly from the cunt of the woman on the left before diminishing first to a trickle and then a spattering. The camera panned out and zoomed in, it changed angles crazily and then picked up again from the original position. The victims were now convincingly dead, slumped motionless and decorated with fearsome whip marks that had transformed their whole bodies into slabs of raw, bleeding meat. It was so easy to believe that the film was a macabre piece of performance art, staged and edited to titillate the jaded appetites of nameless perverts – but Oliviya was watching carefully to see the digital display edge remorselessly towards the critical time. The camera tracked around the beautiful corpses until she froze the frame as instructed and forced herself to focus unblinkingly on the still image. Spotting a faint legend typed on a scrap of paper in the corner of the shot, she gave a small squeal of delight and magnified it excitedly. As promised in her mysterious text, there was an internet address hidden in plain sight. With trembling hands, she noted it down and typed it into a fresh address box. A familiar scene unfolded immediately; the moaning and writhing pair hung evilly suspended from their crosses as before. A deep and warm voice that thrilled her to the very core spoke from out of shot. “Fasten the restraints before we start” he said. At this an athletic, blue-eyed young woman, naked and sporting the shaven head and collar of a chattel slave, stepped into view. Oliviya asian felt her own nipples pucker and tighten at the sight of the heavy rings the actress wore in her breasts, and she imagined how it teen must feel to wear them permanently. With a calm and business-like efficiency, the japanese bald slave moved around the crosses, standing on tiptoe to tighten the leather cuffs around the women’s wrists. They spoke words of thanks, she assumed, in some strange language. Both were already panting and straining from the effort of supporting their bodies on the cruel rods embedded inside them. “It is done, Dmitri” the slave announced, and Oliviya’s heart leapt at the sound of the name. She had found him! Without ever taking her eyes from the screen, she unfastened more buttons at the front of her staid dress until she was able to slip it from her shoulders and wriggle out of it, revealing a half-cup brassiere and leather suspender-belt which would have shocked and scared the stolid bourgeois who patronised her school. “Back behind the camera” he rumbled, stepping forward as the slave moved away, regarding him with worshipful eyes as they passed. Dmitri was just as Oliviya’s imagination had created him in her erotic nightmares. He dominated the room by the sheer physicality of his presence; the huge muscles of his broad shoulders were not disguised by his loose shirt and his hair and beard were a great mass of japan grey-flecked curls that was somehow savage and animalistic. He drew the full length of his black whip over the palm of his hand, lost in thought, and then spoke to some accomplice. “Have them repeat the message”. A different male voice spoke from the shadows, in the strange tongue the women had used before. There was a change of focus, to the anguished face of the dark-eyed woman, and she began to speak in the curious, stilted way of someone reciting words memorised from a foreign language. “You have been chosen. For collection. Later. There will be a form to submit”. As she finished speaking, she turned to the other and pussy the camera followed her eyes. “We will die now” her fellow victim pronounced. “Watch. And follow us. If you choose”. Dmitri turned his head to look out of the screen and deep into Oliviya’s soul. Entranced, she put the tip of her little finger to her mouth and closed sharp, white teeth gently around it. She just nodded her head. THE RELUCTANT DATE: The trains were crowded and I had to squeeze in. I just knew teen that sometime that week I was going to get groped; especially as I was wearing such short skirts. My wife and I watched exhausted how the tongues that had just spoiled my ass and my cock started to dance with each other and our slaves began a hot make out session. “Great, you really wore me out last night” Katie replied, giving Jake a playful wink. She was scared about what he was doing, she felt the pressure, his eyes locked on hers, “Let go Tina, just let go,” she came for the first time in her life. “Why is it disappointing?” I squeaked, my body plastered to hers. You break our kiss to start kissing my neck. A suspicion confirmed when pussy Estley flicks the little gold bell held on a chain between Cindy’s tits. Mirror decoration on all the walls of the bedroom, including the japanese ceiling and even the living area. They're on the stove. Once we turned the machine off, we would get back into the van and haul ass out of here before they could respond and seize us. She took her tits back out and immediately I got completely hard. Mom does too, and she didn’t have rock hard abs until Trevor came into our lives. “What did you like most, Charlie, when I was up there dancing? She lightly asian puts her hands on japan my waist.