You hear me rustling around in my bag, but you can’t see. Then silence. Have I left the room? Am I standing right over you?It startles you a little ...hen I start gently caressing your tits again, but nowhere near as much as when the caressing turns to a slight squeezing and then suddenly a needle is being pushed through your flesh. You yelp at the unexpected pain, and I laugh at you a little. Did that hurt? Oh I’m sorry. I would stop, except… You’re a fucking pincushion whose flesh is there for. Her lush body refused to climax as she gasped and squealed, leaning forward and convulsing with lust, fluids flowing, teeth clenched. She cursed and dismounted.A half-hour later, showered and powdered, her pudenda carefully shaved and a jeweled cone-shaped plug deep in her stretched anus and a tiny clip-on ring atop her fluttering labia, she came down for breakfast wearing only her brother’s college t-shirt, which barely reached the crest of her mounded thighs, a constant reminder of their. More

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