“Now…the weights,” Madame said. “Which ones?” Delaney asked. “The one pound ones,” Madame confirmed, still stroking her cock. Delaney...reached under the bench and found the tiny, but heavy weights. Wincing, she clipped them to the clamps. Her tender nipples, on fire now, stretched. As the weights swayed, fiery sparks radiated down to her wet cunt, congesting it with blood. “Now, finish your story,” Madame Destry demanded, getting up and moving out of Delaney’s field of vision. “Uh…the. The guy had his food stashed in Brock's locker and appeared to have opened the game shoes and batting gloves that were in there."Fuck you, Rookie," Cerutti had sneered. "Maybe I'll make you dress in your car all year." And maybe I'll do everyone a favor and pound your no-talented ass into the pavement," Brock had shot back. "Now get this fucking idiot out of my chair and keep your ego-inflation society out from in front of my locker and out of my shit. If anything is missing, I'm going to find. More

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