There was no need for clamps over her knees. Even without the firm pressureof the grips at her ankles, neck and wrists she doubted if she could have f...eedherself, with her legs bent back in a vee like that. Any muscular effort wouldhave merely pressed her more firmly into position. She was utterly in the powerof the machine. Strangely, the fact of being secure and helpless excited her. There was noescape from her fate, a fate she had dreamed of ever since her earliest memories.It was time to be. Walsh looked at it as Sarah circled the table. A beautifully cooked cunt. And he was going to eat it. Yes, he loved Malcolm’s dinner parties.Sarah, armed with a bone saw, leaned past her master and, gripping one of the girl’s feet in one hand, sawed through the ankle with the other. She set the foot on Malcolm’s plate before returning the saw to the tray of carving tools.Malcolm waved her out of the room dismissively.The men ate in silence for a few minutes. Walsh was lost in a rapture. Not. More

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