?Down. Now.?Swallowing hard, Brittany looked over her shoulder at Mr. Hathaway. ?Mmmmph??A pair of cold, hard eyes met her imploring gaze. The fingers...around her neck tightened.?Walk down, or fall down.?Mewling into the tape, Brittany eyed the stairs and started down. Mr. Hathaway lingered in the doorway until the undersides of Brittany’s slippers scraped the concrete floor.She heard the door close, the lock slide into place, and a click. The basement went black. The footfalls of Mr. Hathaway’s. I growled when my finger again found her sore womanhood and the wetness and heat it held. " Fuck you are wet." I whisper the words in her ear, making her shiver in fear, she feels my hard rod sticking her in her back. My lust is undeniable as my hand is opening her folds to again explore her scorching center again. " You are so fucking tight." I push a thick finger inside of her and is rewarded with a whimper. I start to slowly piston my index finger in and out of her tight sore hole, trying to. More

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