What about you?" "That's myslave." Ethan pointed towards the knot of men. Looking closer,amongst them,could be seen a woman, inverted. Her ankles were...clamped to eitherend of a spreaderbar, suspended from the ceiling. Her mass of blonde hairswirled about herhead in the bucket she was suspended over. One by one, the menwere taking turnspissing on her, and into the bucket. "What's upwith that?" "Well, a fewweeks ago, this slut confessed that she hated the smell and tasteof piss, so Idecided that. Your head comes up and back as far as possible. Then I hear it. A familiar sound. The sound of fingers assaulting your depths. This is more than a finger probing. This is purposeful thrusting—at least three fingers in search of a burst of deep, rolling pleasure.Fucking sounds overcome the relative quiet of the room. They are wet sounds. The sounds of a lusty liquid-saturated pussy being invaded in short, fast strokes again and again.Your ass just grinds. Rolls and grinds. Searches. Climbs my. More

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