Kagney - 1613_sc04

Whoever wins you, he will be a wealthy man to afford your price, Melena. But as to what happens before then… As soon as this year’s Rape Run is complete your implant will be fully activated, and you will sexually serve the needs of each of your sponsors, before being delivered for permanent service to your new master.” “No!” I beg, my tone unclear whether blowjob I’m begging to avoid this fate, or the approaching orgasm. “The responsiveness of your body, that again you prove right now, has attracted great interest,” he relentlessly continues. “Many man wish to enjoy having Melena de Santo as their personal plaything. What a prize you would make, docile at someone’s feet. You’re going to make millions of credits for Aghara-Penthay.” I’ve always known I’d be sold if I was caught, but for some reason hearing this news repeated unleashes a fresh flood of crying from me. I turn my head to the side and face Jasmine. Kneeling beside the bed, she looks silently at me - a teardrop in her own eye her only means of communication. As it trickles down her cheek we hold each other’s gaze as my body’s resistance breaks down, and I scream in climax at my violation from a stranger. The electric aftermath of such an intense orgasm hasn’t entirely faded when Salarin enters the hut with two of his men. But any last pleasure is shattered as I’m quickly brought down to the ground. My owner says that if Lotho-etsarra is finished with me, I am to be put in an appropriate place for Salarin’s property to spend the night. 25 - Pool I cry out in disgust as warm wet liquid spatters down onto my head. A man is urinating on me. Sloshing rapidly away from him through the thigh-deep filthy water, I move as quickly as I can out of the steaming stream that rains down from above. Most of the time I’ve seen these attacks coming and taken evasive action, but a couple of times I’ve been surprised. Luckily as it draws later into the night, such visits to my overnight home – the camp cesspool – have grown infrequent. This pit where they lowered me is the one I’d spotted on my first arrival. It is circular, about eight feet in diameter, and it’s about twelve feet from the submerged floor up to the rim. The walls surrounding me are made of the same desert sandstone that is everywhere on Aghara-Penthay, and they’re so roughly hewn that I could probably have climbed out without much difficulty, if only I had the use of my hands. But I don’t. To keep me trapped I was strapped into a garment rather like a straightjacket before they dumped me in here. Only unlike the lunatic asylum classic, where the clothing would have at least had the benefit of covering the torso, mine is a cut down version. So I’m standing here up to my thighs in shit wearing a skimpy piece of bondage-black leather, which comprises nothing more than tight sleeves and a stiff collar about my throat. My arms are folded across my stomach, with the limbs enclosed in black leather all the way from my shoulders to my fingertips, and then the securing straps which extend out from my hands have been tied tightly around my back and circled round to buckle over my belly. Left restrained in this configuration I am utterly unable to use my arms, although the sensation of having them close about me in a kind-of-hug at least gives a little comfort. As the garment is cut down to only sleeves and the collar, my creamy breasts are left totally exposed by the restraints. The heavy weight of my fruit-like flesh rests on my crossed forearms, and there is not the least way I can cover myself. Having my hooters on show for the world to piss on should have been degrading enough for them, but Salarin teen wasn’t finished. Additional leather cords were then tied round and round the base of each of my breasts, squeezing the cumshot flesh so I bulge out like I’m wearing a pair of pale pink balloons on my chest. My nipples protrude from these swollen masses, darkening from trapped blood to make even more prominent targets. Apart from the accessories around my boobs, the straightjacket and the gag over my face, I’m still stark naked, as I have been since he stripped me. In the Republic I was shy about revealing myself without clothing. Here, half the men on this hellhole planet must have enjoyed a look at my secrets. The muddy brown water I stand in is thigh-deep and too contaminated to see through, but that does at least mean I can use it to conceal my pussy and my backside if I crouch down. But it smells so foul I’m reluctant to submerge, and besides, there’s probably a hygiene risk if big blonde the worst of my welts go below the surface. A sound makes me look up as another visitor comes to the pool – a slave girl this time. I haven’t seen this one of the camp’s women before. There is a handrail sunk in the flat desert ground at the top of the pit, and by means of hanging onto this users can hold their nether regions over the empty air and conduct their business. There’s also a winch rig up there. “Kind of strong, isn’t it, Matt?” Or maybe she would get up and walk around, breaking the blowjob rules? What then, she asked herself? Don't get me wrong, I prefer to have a history and relationship with someone I big sleep with. We’ll use second shift officers and let’s make sure we have some of the new ones with us, especially Aimee Johnstone in case we have to frisk any female patrons. Warrick groaned, “Sounds like it got teen messy.” Which is when someone inserts a memory into someone else’s head, but the person rejects it. I replied, “As you like Nicole, no problem with cumshot me regarding tonight.” I soon became a little handsy, touching his skinny thighs and letting my hands drag upwards, taking his shorts with them, exposing more of his white skin. It was endless, the boy didn't have blonde normal balls, he had a full tank of thick hot sperm.