Chained down as she was, her spittle barely made it to the top of her left tit, and dribbled down toward her nipple.I carried her lunch in and set it ...n the small table, uncuffing one hand so that she could eat. She knew by now that that any swing at me would result in painful retribution, as well as removal of the food until it was brought back, cold and stale, at dinner time."Fuck you, you sick bastard." Later, you cunt, after work."Of course, after work was maybe when I intended to kill. ‘It does smell nice, doesn’t it?’ It was a deep primal scent, of desire, of physical rut. It made me want to fuck something, preferably Stacey. ‘It smells like burning hair,’ Michael groused suspiciously. ‘Where did you get it?’ ‘I thought it was yours,’ I answered, feeling confused. We looked at each other, and then somebody knocked on the door. Michael looked like he was about to say something, but then just shook his head. ‘I’ll get it. Why don’t you go change out of those clothes before you. More

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