' Now there is a thing, I never knew Neil was an artist.During this time there was a knock at the door and a small voice, "Can I come in?" Kirsty was ...t the door. My three wives hurriedly pulled the covers over our lower halves and Kelly shouted "Yes, Love."Kirsty bounded in and leapt on the bed, she said, "I know it's exactly one year since Mummy and I arrived here, everyone has been on about it for the last week. Anyway, MumKaren and MumKat helped me choose this." She produced a small. However, it seemed there was nothing to do so long as we remained bound. We were completely powerless, without a prayer to hope for survival.MARISKA, his voice boomed inside our heads. It was something felt rather than heard, a psychic blast rather than a physical voice. YOU FOOL, he continued, SOMEONE WHO STILL CARRIES THE BLOOD OF THE DRAGONSLAYER YET LIVES.The blood of the who now!? Did he mean the lord paramount’s family?“That’s impossible, great Firelord!” Mariska pleaded, kneeled before. I changed into white kurta and pajama and sat in the car. He again gave me a stern look and said, “I had called for the shorts.”I replied, “It’s there, baby. Just wait for the highway.”As we drove to the highway, I removed my pajama and beneath it was the tight blue shorts. He saw it and gave me a smile.“Are you happy now?”, I asked him.He replied, “Of course” and placed his hand on my naked thigh. He started squeezing it.“Ouch”, I exclaimed and said, “You wanted this so you made me wear it.. My hands go to the wooden crossbeam before me, as though drawn my a puppeteer's strings. Only the rest of my body shakes now. I want so much to scream out, to ruin this all by pleading for it all to end. My hands on the wood, worn smooth as leather with age and use, (I feel as though placed in stocks). My buttocks shove themselves backward - I have no method of control, no illusion of resistance. My ankles are now digging their sides into the hard wood underneath the s**ttering of hay. .
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