Clawing at the air Twitty knocked Skylos off his feet. Rushing to Skylos, Ambrose grabbed the mask then pulling Twitty up put it over her face.Gasping...in a huge lungful of air she smiled up weakly at Ambrose. “I’m am proud to be your mate, sire!”Still struggling to get up Ambrose held her there a moment. “Rest a moment you need to get your strength before you go at it again.”“Sire! We have to keep the engine going or we are dead in space. Ugh! Then help me sire.” Twitty said as they both walked. The male would hear two eruptions of applause from the eager horde of female onlookers, but was unlikely to hear the third delirious crescendo.Overcome by the wicked attentions of the smiling redheaded dominatrix and the sweet promise of death from the haughty bitch behind him, who rubbed herself and allowed him a sniff of her arousal from elegant fingers, the male's tortured balls tingled with a final, fatal ecstasy as the bolt began to bite his neck and he witnessed the willing anticipation. More

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