Satisfied that they have her just as they want her, the hard men who move her body around like a rag doll let her up from the chair only to replace ro...es with straps and chains. Dizzy as she is, Sierra knows that they've used her responsiveness to pleasure to weaken her endurance for pain. The mean clover clamps bite into her stiff nipples like sharp teeth, and the snap of the crop wrings yelps of anguish from her ungagged lips. Each swat to her tingling clit makes her jump, and each jump. My hand was full of a soft naked tit. Her right hand was caressing my ass, trying to get to my cock from the back. The sister kissing me, yes, still, had run my hand up under her blouse and unhooked her bra also, so each of my hands were holding a soft fragrant mound of delight and as they squirmed and moved, each nipple gained an erection, becoming stiff and hard. They were almost as hard as my cock, which was trying to rip a hole in my bikini underwear and the velvet pants. It was being. " Yes, I was fixing a drive train problem they had after the attack," sheconfirmed. "But I grew up on her though."She sat with the command crew who would become responsible for monitoringand maintaining the Power Train, going over the differences that theywould need to learn and know. They would get into it in more detail oncethey reached Kelvin Nine.++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++They were half a day out from their destination now. "Once we completeour Shakedown to ensure. Waiting for the scar tissue around the hole in my mind (where all of the things I believed about him have been distorted, warped, changed and ripped out) to harden. Waiting for the scars across my torn fingerprints to close and fade into one of the many lines that say so much without speaking. He worked his way into my fingerprints. Fingerprints do change. They are lives. You can read a fortune upon them and, if you follow the curves, distinguish individual pain. Fingerprints burn and cry and.