He carried a kit. Knife, big one that had cut up Nick and had also been used to jimmy the door. Marker. What else? If he was watching them, and Stepha...ie said that he had, he probably was carrying binoculars or something like that. And he needed a place to watch them from.He walked to the bedroom window, earning himself a distinctly unpleasant look from the tech, which he deliberately ignored. The light was on in the window, full dark outside with no moon, he couldn't see anything. But he bet. Her entire face was coated with a thick layer of cum - every time she breathed through her nose it made an odd gurgling sound. Her cries weren’t cute sniffles or tiny whimpers, they were huge, bawling wails of anguish.And even through her utter misery, even through the thick layers of self-loathing and total humiliation, there was still a trace of the arousal that her low self-esteem continued to feed; a slight ragged nature to it, an almost animalistic quality.“Uh...”“Don’t stop,” she begged.. More

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