Bill was fucking my face fast and hard and grunting, and I was on my knees as a willing receptacle for his cock, his cum, or anything he wanted to put...in my mouth. I was continuing to gag and choke a little. My face had never been fucked like this before. Bill stopped, removed his cock from my mouth and opened a drawer from a small side table. I slid off of the couch on to my knees, gasping for air and wondered if I did something wrong. Bill produced a small brown bottle. I knew they were. I filled her asshole with piss from Weyland’s friends, so much of it that she was sobbing behind her gag. I made her lay on the floor, her belly bulging, while she shuddered and cried and I felt that cold clarity where I was at peace with the world while seeing another’s torture. I paced around her, considering a new line of possibilities, tapping a rattan cane against my leg while I thought. Almost absentmindedly, I swung the cane against her ass and thighs to hear her shriek and sob, and. More

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