Her work was done, and he must have known Susan would not pass this way again. Did he know that the pride of her heart had deceived her, she who had dwelt in the clefts of the rock, whose habituation had been high; that she had said in her heart, "Who shall bring me down to the ground?" Did she even know it herself? Up and out of the gloomy well he nuzzled her, and then he pulled on the backpack once, twice, three times. As on command his chattel revealed her collar, a simple device of restraint, which she presented to him as reverently as a chalice, as a grail. She raised it to her neck, and snapped it into place. It had no adornment except a "D" ring on a strap which hung down her breastplate, but it held in it the universal meaning of submission. He owned her. Moki never wore a collar of course, but in sex she must. He knew his bitch never doubted it. He divined she never had to: they were a team, after all, so well oriental trained that even short of camp, little more than, really, a beat up sleeping bag and a cooler perched on a rise, he could bump her to a stop, sniff her to her back, force her legs apart, and as he had done often when they had been a-froggin' back East, roll in her carp to conceal his own scent. He would be quick though, with his perfuming ritual, brief this evening, because tonight not even this unhallowed choreographer could defy time and night itself. He had obligations too. He was as ed as instinct, without the choices teens his co-star may have had just this morning. His dark little film noir had a firm play date and it was plotted under a starless proscenium, so he nipped her up and onward toward that stinky old sleeping bag, her ill-lit stage. He pranced her along, salivating less with intelligence than with the Pavlovian anticipations of the specticle to come. Could he visualize this child's comedic shakings as a mockery of a girl shivering to death, or did he predict the future japanese in the way the soulless always seem to do? He had come to expect her infantile moans, those faminiar delightful soliloquies of icy suffering, but in the end it did not matter, neither to him, nor to the unhearing umber universe above, nor any longer to the Great Rock, near but forgotten. -- -- And the award goes to... well done. Bravo! Encore! -- -- Good boy. Nice puppy. The Sun was dying over the edge of the world, so it was less than night and less than day in camp. Red was black; white was gray. Against creation's last glow Moki observed his little bitch puff into the static evening air checking to see her breath, judging the temperature thereby. Not frosty tonight, he saw, not yet anyway, but soon it would be too dark to tell even with her moss-green-grays, or with his blue and brown, with a dollip of copper. They were a team, however, these two, so with a wink and a nod he had her unfurl the mise-en-scene where he asian would stage her, --Crackle and Fwap!-- She did so with such a fly-cast snap he started aback a few feet. He steadied though, when his fading bratling fished into her backpack for her kneepads and then landed them home with an authoritative Velcro crunch. She seemed so unhesitating, so self-assured, so almost eager, knowing what was to come. Was there something he did not know? Could she defy time and the night itself? He watched as the girl dimmed to an apparition in the evening's amber glow. To him all became gray as all becomes gray to those without a soul. His eyes could no longer follow her as she flicked off her Kleenex shorts and tissue camisole. They vanished into the living black. His world had become flat now and she was without contrast. Her lilting mons pubis was all he could see of her in the breathless din. He watched her blend into a floating detritus on a murky lagoon as she became merely a triangle of black sex hovering disembodied over a dark unforgiving sea. Her eyes were gone and she had no shape. Thus this fearsome Mistress of the Day who while she had the light, believed in the light, that she might be a child of the light, in his world clotted into a dark gelid shell of fishy incense, rotting taste, and warm cunt only. He pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth to enjoy her flavour. There it was, a beautiful headless body pic japanese of the tall lanky looking guy, sporting a massive cock and teens an identical full sleeve. She put on the leotard which was clearly too tight and rode up into her ass crack and hugged her bare pussy. I groaned into her lips as I drove my dick into her. Every attractive girl he’d see on campus oriental whether it was in classes, walking out on the quad, in the library, wherever it was, he’d be staring at her ass. Why did she have to be here? I could have sworn Rosa was rubbing her pussy even though I couldn’t see her crotch because it was below the window sill. We were kissing and my hands were all asian over her, Pulling her shirt off, OMG her tits were incredibly, this was the first time i had seen them naked. I looked down at them with my best courtroom blank face. Alice examined the MREs. I found her crack. So the question becomes, which do you want first my cock or my tongue." “Alyssa -- truth or dare?” And as I was walking back to the minivan with Sally's hand in mine, I thought to myself, Yeah.