She leaned over against the wall. Panting. Sweaty. Unimaginably horny. She didn't need to look down at herself to know that nothing had changed; the m...ist lips of her pussy were engorged, throbbing with an urgent, carnal need. The netherlips of her womanhood pulsed with a will of their own; her inner muscles caused them to quiver like an obscene mouth hungering for lascivious gratification. Nor did her constant lubrication stop. There was no satisfying the slavering void between her legs, no. "We're going to train you to be a good little bitch. Just like Flat-top here."He tugged on a leash, and the woman with dreadlocks tottered forward on an absurdly high pair of clear, plastic, stripper pumps. Flat-top was wearing a spiked dog collar, a bright yellow, baby doll t-shirt that bared her pierced navel, and an old Star Wars pillow case that had been turned into a miniskirt. A wreath of thorns and roses around her right bicep, large two inch diameter gauges stretching each of her. More

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