He let go of my hair and I fell to my handsand knees.He stood over me, his hands across his chest."I will be lenient on you because you are a new slav.... For a remarklike that, you could be whipped," he walked over to the closet andopened a small duffel bag. From it, he pulled out a whip. I slidbackwards a few inches. He walked towards me and sat in a chair,playing with it, uncoiling the strands."This is a gorean slave whip," he said, matter of factly again. "As youcan see, it has five strands.". Both of their rigid cocks were practically already inside me. I don’t mind a crowd, especially if I’m the center of attention but this might be too much, at least right now. I wondered if I could get their phone numbers and arrange a menage-a-tois some other time. Then I caught it. The faint odor of blood. Fresh blood. A human could have never picked it out from the myriad of other scents even had it been a hundred times stronger, but I could tell. I lifted my head and breathed deeply, trying. More

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