“So did you decide?” Faith asks as she sits up on her elbows.Morgan frowns at her partner. “I don’t know it we should. I mean, we can use one ...f the androids.”“But we want to make sure that it performs to the specifications that we want,” Faith protests. “The unveiling is only three days away.”“And that is what the androids are programmed for. They are closer to experiencing pleasure as you or I than anything else,” the woman explains. “Their programming is on the same level as the VR. Mostly they're large lizards that can be good or bad depending on how they feel. Most have some level of magic. Though only a handful would be of a level to be considered mages. Why do you ask? What do dragons have to do with this group?" We believe some if not most of that group are dragons in human guise. We know and have worked with and for several dragons as well. We believe that these dragons have taken Mistress Karen to force her husband into doing something that we have yet to figure. When she was satisfied, she had settled on one in the full sun. She also found one in full view of her brother and had no idea.He watched his sister lie in the lounger and lean into its back. Her breasts became perfect spheres and her nipples formed tiny peaks as she situated herself on it. He watched her stretch her smooth legs out and saw the perfect folds of flesh that formed her womanhood between them. For once, he saw it in a normal state, not stimulated and not wet, just perfectly. The last of the women was entering the pod when Bob turned the corner. He guided his charges into the pod and then followed. The hatch closed behind them. Bob was surprised to find that Judy, Bonnie, Faye and Gwen, the four Edgar women who were rejected or stranded, were in the pod as well. Bob realized that it only made sense to house all of the unassigned concubines together. He just wondered who had ordered the Edgar women shifted here.The pod was designed to house a lot of people. Brenda.
Read MoreThat?"Turning towards the window the two of you behold the mailman scribbling a message backwards a crossed the once pristine glass of your window pan
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