He is busy relaxing with a broadcast on the huge video screen, and doesn’t wish to peak until the appropriate moment. Other than the burning from resting on my buttock, I’ve teen had worse tasks to do. I can look straight into Tits’ infinite purple eyes, and I can brush my lips against hers - albeit while enduring the warm rod of Klink’s flesh between us. Without attracting his attention I extend my foot and brush her smooth shin, and with my gaze try to express that I love her, and understand and share her suffering, and I’d do anything I could to ease softcore her distress. From the screen there is a groan of female arousal, and Klink laughs raucously along with the reactions of an all-male crowd. Before each year’s Rape Run the Slavers screen a launch show where the Runners endure interviews with the foul host, Wagner. It is a tradition to play some humiliating prank on each of the women. Last year the theme was woman’s inability to control her sexual response. Runners’ groins were fitted with a stimulator which forced them to orgasm in front of the audience viewing across the galaxy. This year they’ve chosen to emphasize a different weakness of women – how likely we are to betray each other - cowardice that the Slavers believe is inherent in our sex. Each of this year’s Runners is fitted with a strap-on dildo, which protrudes horizontally from between her legs. Women have the choice of conducting the interview with Wagner courageously, with their breasts exposed to the crowd, or taking the weak path. If they wish to remain clothed, they do so at the expense of a fellow female. They must talk while using that dildo to fuck japanese a naked slave, a poor victim strapped down over a piece of furniture. So far every contestant has chosen raping that woman over baring themselves. Perhaps we are weak after all. The Runners don’t need to be reminded what’s at stake if they end up one of the nine losers, but the Slavers have provided a reminder anyway. The slave bound with her ass in the air is living evidence of capture - one of the previous year’s losers. Once she was royal princess Palonae Noonian Aurora Tonova. She was noble. Proud. Beautiful. Now she’s a bound slave, lent by asian her owner to entertain the galactic audience by being fucked by woman after woman. “Fetch me another beer,” Klink orders. I’m careful not to look up as Riyena rises from her knees and leaves the room. Klink has turned colder towards her since the audience with Salarin. Perhaps that faction leader’s criticism is the reason he’s started reminding her that she, too, is only his slave. But I think it may be the imminent prospect of mastering Alexa Goshenk, the pirate who scarred his face, which has heightened Klink’s sadistic instincts. Last night Riyena was chained to his bed while he used her brutally enough that we could hear it through the walls. Today while Tits and I service his penis, she has been made to kneel with her back to the screen, forbidden from watching. Her face is freshly bruised and her breasts look tender. We’ve been careful to avoid meeting Riyena’s eyes, especially in a way that might suggest we’re gloating. We’re already sure Tits and I will suffer as the shapeshifter struggles to reassert her authority. We don’t want to provoke her further. I glace frequently at the screen. Wagner, the host of The Rape Run Solo shows and commentator to its broadcasts is an overly coiffured man. He’s so effeminate he reminds me of the pacified males from Gaianesia. The Runner’s implants are activated for his interviews, forcing them to answer the most intimate of questions. One by one he probes into the personal lives of the poor women forced to participate in one of the universe’s cruelest sports. The woman fascinated her, as did the dynamics of Darlene's relationship with Style. I pulled into the truck stop noticing it hand't changed ,parked my car and went inside. There was only one left, one I knew few people ever came, for it housed only the tallest pieces of drywall, something I figured barely anyone would ever buy. “WHAT? CDC employees were moving in and out softcore of patient rooms with teen armed guards stationed throughout the building. She was sucking his cock for all it was worth and obviously swallowed every Solo drop of his cum. “It's Ma, or Mary.” I would pour over my maps and plots until exhaustion took me, for I would never find sleep if I searched for it. Sara didn’t drink often and with each japanese sip, she was getting more relaxed…and horny. It was just supposed to be a prank Susan thought. After the allotted 8 rings; the call went to the answering machine. Giving herself to him asian as the first male induced orgasm since her husband died flooded her body.