She pinched them lightly, not looking away from him. After about 30 seconds, she spoke, barely audible. Its not working. She said it like a dismayed l...ttle girl. Chris was more than willing to help. He reached out and started to rub them with the tip of his finger. She sighed a bit, and they stood right up, surrounded by little bumps all over the darks of her areolas. Chris didnt stop rubbing though. Sometimes, getting them wet helps a bit. He lifted his fingertip to her lips, and she parted. She kept applying cool compresses to her torn pussy, from a supply of gauze pads Paul had brought her.After a couple of hours, the bleeding stopped. She felt somewhat weak, but didn't know how much was from pure exhaustion and how much from the shock her system endured when she was so brutally raped and torn. She knew she couldn't have lost enough blood to matter.When she knew she had the bleeding under control, she lay on the bed and tried to relax, hoping that the smarting, burning sensation. I heard her sigh and when I turned my eyes her way, she was looking at me, her face thoughtful. ‘I can tell that you’re worried about something, because… that’s sort of my thing’ she told me, her voice slow, as thoughtful as her facial expression. ‘Your hands in particular give away clues about what you’re thinking and feeling. When you’re drawing eyes, you’re thinking about something that puzzles you, you’re trying to figure out if and how to solve it.’ I looked at her and down at the paper in. But there weren’t too many strangers hanging around the dairy as a rule, just delivery men and the vet, an occasional agent, rarely a woman. I got to know them all and eventually we would joke and share cracks about fucking, I mean breeding that is. A few, stopping by, would want to know how it was, me doing all the ladies as a breeder. It was like they kind of wished they were me. Always, they admired my penis especially if I had a hard on. How could they not?I got used to being dirty and I.