He used to get into my clothes all the time and play dress up.Your grandfather, my dad, caught him once and beat him so bad that he hadto go to the ho...pital, but back then, nobody did anything about it. Abouta year later he got all dressed up again, but that time he stupidly wentoutside, and he just disappeared over night. They found his body hangingupside down in a tree, his body mutilated below the waist and his throatcut. He had bled to death. My father was angry at my brother, but. Instead, she continued to sprint along the sidewalk, her black shoesslapping loudly on the concrete.She glanced over her shoulder, looking back in the direction fromwhich she'd come. I followed her gaze to see the crowd parting again,this time to allow a large man in a black leather jacket, faded jeans,and a pair of mirrored sunglasses, to step through.The running girl turned her face forward again. This time, there wasno mistaking the fear in her pretty face. Not fear. Sheer terror.Definitely. He hoped Santa had got the sizes right. Mom had quite a slender neck, so Michael was pretty sure that he could use his own dog's studded collar if Santa's gift wasn't right, but the rest of the all-black, slick-and-shiny slut suit with every appropriate opening for easy accommodation was 'bound' to be perfect. The hand cuffs, ankle chains, ball gags and other restricting devices were one-size-fits-all types. So they would not be much of a concern... Michael almost opened the package, just to. That’s when the true torture began. Instead of stopping, Dr. Schmidt keeps right on jerking me off concentrating on the now extremely sensitive head of my cock "AIIEEEE, STOOOOOOOOP, PLEASEEEEE!" I shrieked. "No, my young friend," he said working on my cockhead constantly "I won't stop it. You will have the chance to confess when we finish. After a man cums you see, his cock is over sensitive and every sensation of pleasure that I work into it becomes unbearable, and when your shaft finally.