The shorts fit her tightly. As if painted on. Not messy, but tight. Slutty tight for attention. She was getting it. Now. The tentacles would have a bi... of work sliding inside her shorts to her pussy and asshole. Octopus man left her clothes on for now. He wanted to have some fun and make her cum in her shorts. His cum had a distinct musky smell. A smell you could never get rid of. Manly. Pleasant. This smell was impossible to get rid of. It stayed forever on the girls clothes. Kind of a. I take a deep breath, exhale, and open the trunk. Her dirty blonde hair is wildly messed up, she's clearly exhausted, but continues to thrash around like some sort of spastic monkey. It's so amusing I just stand there for a minute watching her rage around in the trunk, smile on my face. The look in her eyes speaks volumes. It says "I'll kill you", "Don't kill me", and "Oh, please, why are you doing this" She can't readily decide which emotion to stick with, I guess she doesn't know which one. They don’t usually have the resources we have, and they’re of little use to us. ‘All wrinkles and white hair.’ ‘Kill him, then,’ I say. Josh squeezes the trigger and birds scatter from the forest around Westwood Collegiate. I raise my telescope in time to see a shadow slump and fall out of view on the fifteenth floor. I turn around, but Josh is already on his way back to the southwest battlement. ‘Send a runner,’ I shout after him. ‘No runner is getting to the fifteenth floor,’ he calls. "Cameron ordered two rib eye steaks, medium rare, rice pilaf, tossed green salads and ice tea which promptly appeared on the table. Sitting, he asked, "How does this work? Earth technology can't produce this effect though we can imagine it and show it in science fictional entertainment such as Star Trek." Unfortunately I can't tell you. I doubt if anybody knows because we don't have this on Cassandra either. At least as far as I know we all have to cook to eat! Tastes good by the way." I have.