The servant girls took care of most of the lambs needs in the dungeon. He had no idea, but the idea was oddly appealing to him. She wasn't tall, slender, or blond. But you have to meet your quota of juice. His voice was hoarse with screaming, his throat sore with laughter. That night he got no sleep at all. It didn't hurt when she snuck a peak at Steve's crotch and see a telltale bulge.
The feelings were exquisite. This fact didn't worry Anne much and she chocked it up to a poor economy. It was ten feet in diameter. Mostly leather with a metal plate covering the whole pubic regions of the wearers hips. However; she would find that the workout equipment installed in this arena held more promise for the perverse. A final notation was made on the ominous clipboard.
Upon it was a captive girl, chained tightly with her legs on either side. The sight that Anne beheld made her blood run cold. Within moments both her breasts were securely bound. Suddenly he felt very fearful. What Tina had said was true. Even such trepid sensations were nirvana to the captive. Anne pulled at her restraints wildly, her clit sending wave after wave of desire to the very core and fiber of her being.
The dress was cut fairly high, just above the knees, so she made sure to shave her legs thoroughly. Her tongue swirled over the ever moistening petals. Tina returned and placed a small bottle of baby oil on the table. But there was a caveat: Each nerve yearning in vain for release. Anne was so aware of the pleasure yet bound so tight that every synapse in her brain became transfixed on the teasing.