Don't cook me! I have a husband. I have a family!” Annie started sobbing. “Please don't put me in there.” “Oh, how polite you suddenly are...” said the boss, as Tiffany and Megan opened the oven doors. A hot gust or air hit me, instantly warming my legs. Tiffany gently slipped off my cock ring. “You're not going to need this,” she said. Coming to the head of my table, she looked down at me. “Well, sweetie,” she smiled, wheeling me to the brink of the oven, “this is goodbye.” I looked up. Roose kept struggling, but as I drained him, the fight began to leave his spirit. While he watched helplessly, just as the husband of Ramsay’s mother did, Ramsay himself perished, clawing desperately to keep the fangs out of his neck. More of my company kept butchering the Winterfell garrison wholesale, my whores doing a particularly efficient job of slicing throats in the darkness.“Watch, just as one of your peasants did, while you raped his wife and he slowly hanged to death, while the. More

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