"She not just a girl! She's a culture girl." She writhed on the floor, still screaming, still bound do the chair. He turned his back to her and walked...to me. "The slave of a culture girl might cry, when we carve on her. But from a culture girl herself I expect better." He reached and touched my stitches. "I know. Until she stops crying, I'll torture you. Do you hear that, little thing? I torture your friend until you shut up!"Madeline stopped crying. She got very quiet and just lay there, her. These would be the closest things she would have to sensible clothing for the next week.She knew we were both going to be playing games on each other whilst we were away. So when she arrived I was not surprised to find a picture of her looking very cosey in her seat with a large built muscular man next to her with his hand on her bare thigh.I replied with just a picture of my hard cock cumming all over her underwear that I had unpacked for her, and asked if she had forgotten to pack these. To. More

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