"Henry Livingston," said Meg after I asked her to repeat the name."Doctor Livingston?" I asked.She nodded.I remembered Dr. Livingston from the first t...me we had met. He was tall and not the friendliest looking person. Not long after that run-in, he had invaded the mind of one of my girls. His mark was black and hung over his face like a mask.Sally asked, "Is there a problem?"Looking at her, I wasn't sure what to say. "I've run into him and had a taste of what he can do." I looked back at Meg. Her own hands, free and unencumbered, didn’t try to push the gargoyle’s claws from her hips. Instead they disappeared between her thighs, finding her soaked lips, seeking out her sensitive clit begging for attention. The sight would have been one to behold for any voyeurs. Sally, pants around her knees, bent over, gripped by a gargoyle that was pressed inside her round ass. Her red hair bounced around her face as she tried to move her hips back against the stone statue. Her skin, usually so. More

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