They were gloriously nude, their bodies decorated with rouge and kohl, silver jewellery and intricate patterns of henna along their slender limbs and lightly-muscled torsos. Each wore a sign of yellow ochre painted onto the small of her neck, her hair piled high with combs and grips to expose it, and each swept a gleaming Cossack shashka in graceful arcs around her. The room was scented already with jasmine and with Dmitri’s Burmese tobacco, but the women brought with them the aroma of attar of roses and the heavier, earthier smell of moist cunts. Their faces were blank and vacant masks of lust, and their nipples swollen with excitement. Only the strictest discipline – the total commitment of these most utterly debased and dedicated of slaves – kept their performance as flawless as it was impassioned. Bare feet moved surely, lithe hips swayed, and soft arms passed elegantly through the air, telling their ancient tale of love and death. The afternoon sun slanted through stained amateur glass japanese to strike subtle glints from the polished rings and chains in their skins and the shining blades in their little fists. Carissa was enchanted by the spectacle. “I have seen this piece many times” Dmitri mused, examining his fingernails casually. “These women are trained dancers and have been rehearsing for weeks while we outdoor made space for them in our meat safe, like so many others before them”. He looked down, and Carissa followed his gaze to the long bulge in the fabric of his silk pyjamas. “I will fuck the corpse of the most accomplished and perhaps have the others feed me her cooked flesh while they await their own turn on the spit. Women throw their lives at me. In Hastur’s name, I am becoming bored!” and he ground out his cheroot while the three dancers turned and stepped before him, hearing his words and each of them aching to be the headless body he would ravage when the song was played out. Carissa ran the words through her head three times before she trusted herself to speak, “You are an artist, Dmitri” she declared in a quiet voice. “You have honoured me with a part in your work, and I live for it”. Dmitri ruffled her hair and she turned her besotted gaze to him. “You are right to reproach me” he said, silencing her protest with a wave of his hand. “I am fortunate in my meat, and it behoves me to remember that.” The dancers twirled in unison before them and then began to stamp asian their bejewelled cumshot feet in a delicate counter to the insistent rhythm of the drums. Their ringlets bounced around them and their breasts swayed; bare arms snaked to and fro sinuously. Dmitri watched them for a while in silence then turned back to Carissa. “They are competing to be chosen as victim – dancing for their deaths”. He sighed. “I am seized with an ennui and I will not make the decision. You must do that”. She regarded him with a look of dismay and his tone became sterner. “This is the rule of your order” he told her. “It is your destiny to live and serve, envying the sweet fate of the meat. Accept this”. Carissa’s face showed her despair at his words. “My love” she stammered, her lip quivering, “I deserve nothing – I am nothing. Test me, I beg you”. Tears started at the corners of her eyes. He looked away. “Choose” he commanded. “I will need your decision when they finish”. It was incredible. "Yes!" “They'll wake up tomorrow with epiphanies. Her pussy was shaved clean. In just a second million of bugs were crawling out her birth canal she was constantly orgasming they just wouldn’t stop coming out. Chapter Seven "Oh thank you very much. The school governors were all Trump supporters, and they trusted Mr. Barton implicitly - so much so that they had delegated all discipline matters to him personally. She now put her hands on his shoulders and she now more forcefully started to massage his shoulders and amateur lower back. Eileen took a deep breath in and out. Her hands hold me to her chest lovingly. You were his whore, weren't you?” I felt my breasts jiggling like they were fighting to escape my bra. He is well. NO WAY’ “You shut your dirty mouth. It almost seems to react to cumshot her wetness, pushing into her harder and asian deeper. My thoughts prickled outdoor as my powers changed my mother. "Come on, we're on a tight timetable. I heard a horn blow shortly after we finished eating and I looked outside and saw a different car, not Elizabeth’s. My father walked me out and then I told him it was Ms. Jones and I saw Elizabeth was in the japanese passenger seat so I hopped in the backseat and my father told me he loved me and goodbye. If you ever use this for any sort of unscrupulous purposes, you’ll be answering to me.” I loved the one fluttering over my asshole and the other caressing my virgin pussy. She was beautiful, her hair was messy and her tits were so close to his head. Her pace was slowly quickening and her hands pawed at me with veracity. Since I delayed for a couple of minutes in contemplation of this, I found her to be naked in her bed and inviting me in to be with her.