Sexiest ebony Jada Fire

The pattern of lashes from the whipping are everywhere across me. With my fingers trembling, I pick at the knots. The faces of the two men who tied my boobs up resurface to haunt me. Two men of Salarin’s. It’s like there here in the room and its happening all over again. They groped me much more than necessary while they forced me into the jacket, and then they tied these humiliating bands around my breasts, and then they shoved the gag in my mouth so I couldn’t scream, and finally they pushed me down into the dirt and raped me in the ass, one after the other. One of my assailants, an unshaven man in his fifties who had an overpowering rank smell of stale sweat, was one who had anally raped me while I was in the frame as well. The other younger man with dark skin was unknown porn to me. The paste that was applied to me after the mass rape had healed me, but I think these two men tore me again, judging by the sharp pain my backside if I move too suddenly. I try to fix myself up as best as I can, massaging black my sore breasts once the leather is removed. The strips I discard on a pile along with the jacket and the vile gag. “Lie down and sleep for a few hours,” Leesha urges me in a soothing voice. “I’ll wake you up if there’s a sign of anyone in the tunnels. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” I want to stay up with her, and thank her, over and over. But my whole body is sore and I’m exhausted, mentally as well as physically. I smell like a sewer, but that can be dealt with later. Giving in, I gratefully lie on my side on the mattress, drawing up my knees into a fetal position. Everything feels bloated inside my abdomen, as though I’m in the middle of intercourse, but there’s nothing to be done at the moment. Leesha is thinking more clearly than me. I should rest. I’m expecting to lie awake, my mind beginning to process the trauma, so when I’m suddenly in the nightmare, reliving standing helpless in the frame while Salarin rubs the goad across my body, that makes ebony it worse. I wake screaming, with Leesha’s hands gently shaking my shoulders. Even though she’s my friend I recoil instinctively at contact from another human. I’m back against the corner of the bed before I understand who it is, and I begin to calm. “It’s almost dawn on the surface,” tits Leesha says soothingly, hiding a wounded expression. “We’ll need to move soon, but there’s time slut for a shower if you want to clean yourself. You should drink too. The water will be clean, not like the bottles they give you if you call out.” I look at the shower and realize I really do want to wash myself. As well as removing the caked human waste which stains me, I want to try and rid my skin of the feeling that I’m imprinted by countless hands. “There are no towels,” she apologizes. I shrug. I had been working with the metal shaping it into a more adequate shape. Don’t worry ebony . . . "Do you promise you won't tell my parents about this?" “You are a reflection of our order,” I said, drinking my water in congruence with her sips, “and your reputation does not make us look good.” I groaned as my son pulled out of my black snatch. Her face was hard to read as usual but he knew. You, Mom, slut Gail, Sandra, and Sal know that I was a virgin when we met. I was sick of feeling like a loser at school and being rejected by all the other kids in my neighborhood. He withdrew the toy and tossed it to the side. She was tits taller than me, had dark hair that went down to her chin, was fairly chubby, and was a little on the homely side. An instant later, her body exploded in an porn intense orgasm. Heck, as it was, I could barely fit the head of Chris’s erect penis inside my wide-open mouth. I looked over at him as he hopped onto my bed with me.