"What do you make of it, Detective?"I turned to the voice beside me, shrewish, slightly balding man with a pencil-thin mustache that went well with hi... sallow,rat-like face. He could have been 42 or 62 - men like him always seemed a caricature of middle-age - and he looked worn out from a life spent catering to the debauched pleasures of the rich and powerful. One wouldn't think that would be so hard on the body, but given a place like this the mileage no doubt accumulated pretty fast. Her's. Luckily, there were two bedrooms in the dungeon. Tonight was going to be a fun one.--------------------We got back home and I lead Carla down the other staircase to her own room, watching her ass sway in her tight miniskirt. I had gotten lucky with this one; all I’d have to do were some minor adjustments and we could start having fun. “Master, please, I need your cock, now!” Carla cried with a light accent, opening the door to her new home. She quickly began stripping, and I allowed her, taking. More

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