Angela and Sophia were nearby, peering down at the mountain pass. It was a gorgeous sight. A song could be composed about it. I snorted. A song. Could... I even finish my epic now? What was the point? It didn't feel like we won.“Chaun,” Sophia gasped. “Your lyre.”I glanced down at the pieces as Sophia broke away from Angela and knelt beside me, her robes stained crimson with her blood, ripped and torn in so many spots it barely hung on of her. Dirt and more blood smeared her face, stained her. I knelt there, looking up at his mighty cock -- the cock that he used to get in my head...to control me...to own me.I could feel my own cock leaking precum; I wasn't even touching it.Hold it in two hands Timmy, feel its weight...its power.It filled my hands and truly felt heavy.As he spoke, it grew heavier and heavier. It was still soft, but felt unbelievably heavy. My arms started to shake a little, under its heft.Lick it now, Timmy -- suck me hard; he commanded. I obeyed.His shaft grew so. That was when she felt the tenderest of kisses on first one buttock, then the other, followed by circling caresses with the palm of his hand. She relaxed into the sensation. He widened his strokes to the top of her thigh, then between her legs.The warmth began to spread through her body. As always sensual caresses aroused her desire for something sharper. She pushed her arse out again and this time she felt the right kind of pain: he spanked her. She gasped as he repeated the action,. But first, we need to get you out of this old shirt.” “But I can’t get it off without my hands….” I try to explain. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.” Without the benefit of sight, I can’t tell what he’s doing until I feel the scissors against my skin. He’s cutting away my shirt! I want to be upset, to argue, but the touch of the cold metal against my skin has my head spinning. Before I know it, the shirt is gone. I can only imagine the condition it’s in now. Because I hadn’t worn.