“Does your ass hurt slave?”“Yes master!”I grabbed it roughly. I massaged the flesh roughly between my hands. More blood welled to the surface....“Then here, let me massage it.”“Thank… thank you master!”I could hear the pain in her voice, sweet music to my depraved ears. Her shaking legs made me smile. I took a break from my torture and rubbed my dick up against her from behind. She could feel how hard I was and began to beg me to take her, hoping to stop the torture for good.I teased the entrance. Now, for some reason, steam rooms make me horny and so do black men. So here I was on my knees in a steam room sucking a black cock with raging hard-on.I had lost all track of time and failed to notice the steam room had been filling up with other men who were now watching the sex show I was putting on. Sometime after I saw the other men in the room, I felt a couple pairs of hands running over my body, squeezing my ass, and stroking my hard cock. My towel had been removed and dropped on the. The dream had been exceptionally vivid and relentless the night before. Today, he felt tired.Turning his head to the left, he renewed his assessment of his features. The most noticeably marred part of his face was the area around his eye. The lower lid seemed atrophied and the eye sunken. He had no discernable eyebrow and the flesh of his lower forehead and cheek seemed twisted or, perhaps, slightly melted, giving his skin, the appearance or texture of clotted curds. When he had first ceased to. I wondered if there was an AR-15 in this car. Some officers had them. Since 9-11 it wasn't uncommon for even a patrol unit to have the civilian version of an M-16. I glanced inside the cop car I hid behind and all I saw was a riot shotgun. Another burst of fire raked the car and I huddled down atop Mistress.My heart thudded with fear and only my training was keeping me going. Mistress was huddled in a ball on the ground, covering her head with her arms. I wanted to crawl up in a ball and join.