They were impossibly heavy, each one dense with muscle and about the size of Carson's head. But now he had a perfect view of his target--a little pink...hole peeking out of his tightly curled butt hair.I could suffocate in there, Carson thought. What a way to go, though. He took a deep breath and dove in, sinking his face into Mr. Armisen’s mountainous buns.“Motherfucker,” Armisen moaned, tilting his head back, his piss squirting out like ejaculate.His sweaty ass was delicious as Carson breathed. ? With Scully?s mind a whirl her captor?s instruction simply failed toregister with her and before she knew it she was once again down on her handsand knees moaning in pain. ?Take off your top, slut,? Harold continued in acalm voice. ?Now.? Scully struggled quickly to her feet and slipped her plain cotton topover her head and dropped it on top of the jacket on the other side of thebars. ?Good girl,? said her abductor, smiling as he took in his latest pet?sperfect tits, encased in a lacy black. Number one, there is no hell. At least, none that I've come across, and I've been in this game for a while. Number two, there is somewhere else for them to come from. In fact, you'd be surprised to learn, we make demons. Every day, on your way to work and someone cuts you off, whenever you get in an argument with your husband, whenever the thick emotions overcome you, a corresponding demon is born in astral space. Normally, they get overwhelmed shortly by the vastness of this space and die,. (Look for “How I started being an exhibitionist”.) Mr Burgess flickered briefly but brightly into my life shortly after that but I can recall every detail, every feeling, as if it is happening as I write. It began with a simple supermarket shopping trip, and here I will tell you what happened on that first day. My mind travels back to an autumn day in Sydney, the bright afternoon sun still high in a sky which is a clean blue, except for dark clouds gathering somewhere over the sea to the.