Turkeys


Studio: Insex

He thinks of em as turkeys.To him those cuties are no thing greater quantity than meat. He sees himself as a hunter, a dude who cant live without new meat. And so it starts. They are stripped, his angels. There are 3 of em. He has em in his hunting cabin. Their arms are fastened behind their backs, their hands taped. They are gagged with tubing held in place with cable ties. A not many feet of chain run from neck to neck, so that they are tethered to one one more.

He sits. He tells em about a turkey discharge. As this guy talks, this chab assembles his gun. Their adult baby cries and whimpers escalate. Who could have known? One minute u are just walking your dog or sipping coffee in your home. And the next thing u know, u are undressed. And this chab has a gun. And there is actually no thing else to do, is there?

When this guy tells u to run. You run like hell.

He drags em outside and unchains em and begins spewing out pellets, scaring em up priceless. After all, this chab craves to be challenged. He’s looking for sport, just a adult baby pleasure. They run throughout the woods all in a flurry, screaming, squawking. Open sea on angel.

The blonde is the 1st to drop. He takes the others down likewise, the dark brown and the black-haired beauty. The marks of paintball trickle down their soft skin in red trails. It is quiet in the woods. Their bodies lie still, white, silent.

They are side by side in the back of his truck, all on their stomachs, all in hogties, all gagged. They rock back and forth on tied milk cans, bouncing with the bounce of the truck. They make a flurry of terrified chirps. He stops the truck and opens the back gate. To every couple of ankles, that guy attaches a rope. Then this guy moves the truck forward so that they are dragged out of the back by the ankles. He hoists every of em up, their bodies hanging upside down in the centre of the woods. He smacks butts. He plays with their scones and nipps, constricted from the cold. His coarse fingers twist and knead, doing with em soever this chab wishes.

Evening comes. A fire burns beside a pond. All 3 angels are standing, tied tightly jointly animal play the neck, hobbled this way, groaning, whimpering in the cold. They shuffle close to the fire. But in a short time it is likewise hawt. They jostle back and forth, breast to breast, their skin luminous in the black.

He arrives with a metal grill that that guy sets on 2 posts. It is in the shape of a body. He tells em they have to give a decision who is going to be cooked tonight. It is for em to make a decision. They groan. They cry, moving backward, clustered jointly, the human cook basket awaiting.

The blonde is chosen. She is locked into the rungs of the frame, her legs widen, arms locked behind her back, and a metal bar thrust into her slit. It keeps her very still, so that the fire can do it is work. She breathes raw as the heat grows, baking, her chest heaving. The other 2 gals are given the task of making sure she’s roasted admirable and even. Her skin goes red. Please hurry, that babe says, please, please hurry. And so they turn her so this babe can cook the other side and supplicate to be turned another time. An apple is pushed into the blond’s throat. She is quieter now. As though this babe is giving up, letting go. As though that babe can forget her body. She is basted and barbecued, her round melons smeared with sauce, trickling down into the fire. Fluid oozes from her knees.

The flush of her body may remind him of the pink internal shine of love tunnel. When the lips are widen and juicy, just in advance of the plunge, and now the scent can sometimes be smoky.

Format: real
Duration: 34:35
Video: 424x240, RV30
Audio: 62kbps

Turkeys

Turkeys


Turkeys

Turkeys



Turkeys


File size: 87.2 MB



Turkeys




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