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But her footage of her defeat was very different from the other victims. All we saw was the briefest of images depicting Emirie Kadjiz crouching down somewhere resembling the inside of a wrecked ship. She looked up at hearing a noise and smiles openly. “Oh, it’s blowjob you,” she Hardcore grinned to someone off-screen. People have written articles about the beauty of Emirie Kadjiz’s face, and she’s made a fortune modelling cosmetics and lipsticks, but all that perfection was ruined as she was struck with a metal object so hard that her skull seemed to explode. There was a second blow and a third blow, and with each strike I could hear the grunt of a female voice in intense exertion. The use of such force was cruel and unnecessary. Emirie Kadjiz was dead black before she’d hit the ground. “What a waste of a nice cunt,” Wagner said, disappointed. “The killer better make sure she’s the survivor, or she’s for it afterwards.” Salarin and Cronorgan have been so far without a trophy. This is bad news for me – we can expect reprisals at nightfall if The Sadist has no-one else to play with. I am stationed at the same camp Salarin traditionally uses – a circle of crude huts around the restraints for his tight victims. Wooden frames, large enough for captives to stand inside, are currently empty. Despite the desert heat I shiver as I look at those frames and remember the heroic Republic space fleet colonel, Melena de Santo, being bound there last year and then being abused and degraded in the worst ways imaginable in front of an audience of trillions. There is other furniture here. Tight cages barely large enough to fit a woman inside swing from posts like gibbets in the hot breeze. An open pool which smells foul serves as the cesspit. There are rules for Hunters as well as Runners in this competition, and Salarin is only allowed a retinue of ten men. The maximum six of them hunt with him at the moment. Four man the camp where I serve. As well as the huts here where the men sleep, our camp contains some buildings given over to stores of food, and some to munitions, restraints and sadistic equipment for the maltreatment of slaves. My duties interracial are to prepare food, to clean the camp and run such errands as I am given, and to serve the sexual pleasure of any man who asks. I am forbidden from leaving the camp area, but I have no interest in doing so anyway – there is nowhere to run to on Aghara-Penthay. I get little work done, for the four men who remain here all desire me. Much of my afternoon is spend lying on my side on a cramped camp bed while a grey-haired, small man paws my breasts. “If Logan doesn’t mind, of course.” We starve that algorithm.” Another world destroyed by demonic flames, Hardcore no signs of life left. I could blowjob fix any mistakes I'd made. I looked at him and knew something was very wrong. "Oh, she wasn't wearing anything . . . They all are very grateful to you for being so accommodating. I know all of her secrets and am earning an undocumented masters degree in business. Anyway, after my adventures with Josh and Todd, I decided it might be fun to try a 69 with her. I can rope off of black him, cut cattle or just generally herd cattle with him. She started to moan softly but was still sleeping, he pushed his finger in more tight interracial while still moving it up and down. This was definitely the place.