I heard her gasp as my other hand continued to rub faster near her cock. Then my hands came back to her firm butt cheeks and squeezed them. I caress...d the deep valley between her cheeks. My fingers probed what seemed to be her more than willing hole.I took another look around me. Still no one was paying any attention to us. My fingers continued to massage her moist hole. They probed the slippery warm wetness inside her. My goddess pushed back against me and my fingers slid deeper into. The detonators used in them were real, live grenade detonators and a bit of welding would seal the base of any practice grenade.World war II German-style potato mashers were easy to make, too, and held over four times the charge of a baseball grenade (if you use a pint can to make 'em like I did). Granted, the baseball grenade was designed to fracture the weak steel coil comprising the inside of the case into lots of little surprises for a surgeon, but as trade-offs go, I preferred the ability. After a quick shampoo and rinse, I carefully dried her off and carried her upstairs.I dressed her in simple pajamas and tucked her into bed. I had only purchased one outfit for her, which matched her normal house clothes from the anime, and hung it up in plain view of the bed. I put a note next to a hand bell on her bedside table. It read: "You are safe. Please ring the bell when you are awake and dressed."I went back downstairs and started preparing a nice breakfast for her. Alpha had pointed. Her husband then reached up from behind and pulled the tattered remains of her panties from between her legs.Somehow, she looked more naked with her stocking drooping on her legs than the slaves had with no clothing at all on their bodies. Her wild gyrations while she screamed and thrashed were also much more obscene than had been the fully-restrained struggles of the previous inhabitants of the spanking bench.“Do you know how many swats you are going to get with this paddle?” her husband asked.