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Maybe she’s not so brave? Let’s see how long Colonel, Melena de Santo, can hold out before she begs to be fucked,” he calls out. Salarin turns back to me, his voice so quiet it is intimate. There’s nothing in my universe but me and him now. “The goad has a pain setting from one to ten,” he says gently. “One is an uncomfortable jolt. Ten will leave you unconscious.” My eyes are drawn to follow his fingers as he adjusts the dial. I standing here naked and helpless, at his mercy. There is little else I can do but watch, and anticipate the inevitable. “This is a four,” he informs me, and it begins with the flesh around my stomach. 20 - Fifth I am begging, but only when I have the indian chance. Most of the time I’m just screaming like an animal, any coherent thought driven away by the world of pain. All that once was the person named Melena de Santo, he has taken from me. My sense of shame, I quickly discovered was insignificant compared to this personal hell. So much hurt, and he hasn’t even moved to my erogenous zones yet. Such torture should take months to heal, but when he does pause, the agony doesn’t fade gradually. It vanishes instantly as it arrives, and I’m transported from one reality to another. At those times I can suddenly think, and I can understand, and see that I’m totally unharmed, and I can fear the moment when the baton touches me again. There is no permanent damage, but when I return to the reality free from fire, I find things have changed during my absence. During one break, for example, I realize I’ve started gasping with exertion. Rapid, deep breathing draws attention to the rise and fall of my vulnerable breasts. During another I discover my muscles have started to ache like I’ve run a marathon. How rigidly must have I been tensed in the frame, to have strained my resilience so much already? I try to be brave for as long as I can, but when he takes my suffering to a new level, saying, “Let’s try it on your pussy now,” I start to weep shamelessly. “Please, no!” I sob, and for the first time in my life I beg a man “Please fuck me!” and I mean it. While I plead with increasing desperation he moves the slave goad low, between my spread legs. I am busy gyrating my pelvis, trying instinctively to open my thighs wider, away from the wand, and I even stand on tiptoe to avoid the inevitable for a moment longer. How much is this going to hurt? My clit is hypersensitive, I know that. softcore I didn’t want to masturbate in front of the cameras back when I was free, so the constant gentle stimulation from the nanobots has left me aroused. The lips of my sex are swollen, opening themselves ready for what should be pleasure, instead of pain. It’s the slightest touch, but it feels like my pussy is white hot. It’s worse than being branded, worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. Far worse. “And what about me...don’t you care what I think” barked Ashley, her own anger bubbling over, and that fact she was also a little tipsy. “Yes!” I snarled as the pleasure slammed through me. My softcore thoughts burned. Much of the accumulated wisdom of people is lost, destroyed, or fragmented when they collapse." “About?” It was probably made indian up to scare children from not going into the tunnels and getting lost. "Touch them, if you want," she said, taking his hands and placing them on her tits. She laughed when I went to lick the toy, bopping he on the head ,lick my pussy she said. Ryan was afraid to scare her off so he left out that he was married. “Feeling rough, hon?” Yes, shrugged Lauren. Sarah was laid flat on her back, He had taken her shorts and panties off and her legs were dangling each side of the examination couch.