trying to make it pamper him. He hovered above her, rough hands hard on her shoulders. He nudged at the warm wetness of her entrance with the rounded thickness of his globe. She could feel him opening her up, spreading the inner lips apart. Poised there, he looked down at her.
Prised open in this way, Zacora could feel Brad’s hot liquid running from her; feel it seeping over the spread buttocks and down her splayed thighs. She had bent her knees and spread them outwards, making herself totally vulnerable for Wolf, wanting to please him.
“You are a used woman,” he grunted cruelly in her face. His features were a mask of hatred; his need to hurt her naked form beneath him.
Zacora said nothing, but simply tried to ignore the pain in her shoulders. His grip was fierce on her soft flesh and her arms were becoming numb from their long confinement in one position above her head. She concentrated on the wonderful feelings in her sex. He penetrated her further, making the entrance slow and tantalising. She tilted her mound, offering a more open position.
Wolf’s dark eyes slitted cruelly. “Surely,” he hissed, “only a harlot would know such tricks.” She saw him move his swarthy cheeks, gathering saliva and a great gob of his spit splashed on her pale cheek. He plunged into her fully, gyrating cruelly, and she met him movement for movement. It was an angry, frantic coupling with the sex skilled girl contracting her muscles around him, milking him of his sperm. His heavy balls smacked hard against her buttocks, already wet with Brad’s spillage.
Another splash of liquid fell hotly on her swollen breasts. Wolf still held her at the shoulders, pinching the fine skin and bruising the delicate bones.
Zacora looked up, Pike was standing over them, his head thrown back, glorying in their sudden ascendancy over a woman. His penis was held in one hand, while the other was cupping his balls. His thick shaft was being manipulated vigorously and it was spurting in great hot splashes over her naked breasts.
She accepted her humiliation gladly. She smiled up at Wolf and was rewarded with another gob of saliva, aimed this time into her open soft lips. His movements were frantic, spearing his whole length into her. She could feel him pulsing and her own climax was so close, so very close.
CHAPTER FIVE
The new slave had arrived in a sedan chair, lying back on soft cushions. Naked, as a slave should be, she trembled in her chains as Megan peered into the curtained sedan. It was a delicious sound; the tinkling of the fine chains.
The nervous slave looked up at her new mistress with the biggest sapphire eyes Megan had ever seen. Long blonde curls - no, not truly blonde, gold, with streaks of silver - twisted over the pale shoulders to circle pert pink nipples. The breasts had the perfect roundness of youth. The skin was stretched over them drum-like and it swept down to a slender waist, so delicately curved that it asked to be caressed. Megan stretching out a finger and the slave flinched back into the cushions of the sedan.
The girl had a belly, a mere gentle swell from the dip of her navel. The nest! Oh, Megan had gasped at the sight of the nest. It pouted out, a pad of female flesh brushed with hair more silvery than that upon her lovely head. And the way she had been placed in the sedan by the guards made the silver-flecked labia part so that Megan could see the moist pink folds beneath. The nubbin, too, was plainly visible, achingly lovely, begging to be kissed by female lips.
The chains by which Zacora was held were light, but strong. The ankles were gripped by manacles, holding her shapely pale legs apart. The chain between the manacles was at full stretch, holding the legs taut. A well-placed padlock in each lower corner of the sedan pulled the ankles, and thus the full legs, wide apart.
The wrists, too, were shackled, but together. The arms were pulled high, Megan noticed, and fastened to the roof of the sedan, making
Prised open in this way, Zacora could feel Brad’s hot liquid running from her; feel it seeping over the spread buttocks and down her splayed thighs. She had bent her knees and spread them outwards, making herself totally vulnerable for Wolf, wanting to please him.
“You are a used woman,” he grunted cruelly in her face. His features were a mask of hatred; his need to hurt her naked form beneath him.
Zacora said nothing, but simply tried to ignore the pain in her shoulders. His grip was fierce on her soft flesh and her arms were becoming numb from their long confinement in one position above her head. She concentrated on the wonderful feelings in her sex. He penetrated her further, making the entrance slow and tantalising. She tilted her mound, offering a more open position.
Wolf’s dark eyes slitted cruelly. “Surely,” he hissed, “only a harlot would know such tricks.” She saw him move his swarthy cheeks, gathering saliva and a great gob of his spit splashed on her pale cheek. He plunged into her fully, gyrating cruelly, and she met him movement for movement. It was an angry, frantic coupling with the sex skilled girl contracting her muscles around him, milking him of his sperm. His heavy balls smacked hard against her buttocks, already wet with Brad’s spillage.
Another splash of liquid fell hotly on her swollen breasts. Wolf still held her at the shoulders, pinching the fine skin and bruising the delicate bones.
Zacora looked up, Pike was standing over them, his head thrown back, glorying in their sudden ascendancy over a woman. His penis was held in one hand, while the other was cupping his balls. His thick shaft was being manipulated vigorously and it was spurting in great hot splashes over her naked breasts.
She accepted her humiliation gladly. She smiled up at Wolf and was rewarded with another gob of saliva, aimed this time into her open soft lips. His movements were frantic, spearing his whole length into her. She could feel him pulsing and her own climax was so close, so very close.
CHAPTER FIVE
The new slave had arrived in a sedan chair, lying back on soft cushions. Naked, as a slave should be, she trembled in her chains as Megan peered into the curtained sedan. It was a delicious sound; the tinkling of the fine chains.
The nervous slave looked up at her new mistress with the biggest sapphire eyes Megan had ever seen. Long blonde curls - no, not truly blonde, gold, with streaks of silver - twisted over the pale shoulders to circle pert pink nipples. The breasts had the perfect roundness of youth. The skin was stretched over them drum-like and it swept down to a slender waist, so delicately curved that it asked to be caressed. Megan stretching out a finger and the slave flinched back into the cushions of the sedan.
The girl had a belly, a mere gentle swell from the dip of her navel. The nest! Oh, Megan had gasped at the sight of the nest. It pouted out, a pad of female flesh brushed with hair more silvery than that upon her lovely head. And the way she had been placed in the sedan by the guards made the silver-flecked labia part so that Megan could see the moist pink folds beneath. The nubbin, too, was plainly visible, achingly lovely, begging to be kissed by female lips.
The chains by which Zacora was held were light, but strong. The ankles were gripped by manacles, holding her shapely pale legs apart. The chain between the manacles was at full stretch, holding the legs taut. A well-placed padlock in each lower corner of the sedan pulled the ankles, and thus the full legs, wide apart.
The wrists, too, were shackled, but together. The arms were pulled high, Megan noticed, and fastened to the roof of the sedan, making
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