He thinks of em as turkeys.To him those beauties are no thing greater amount than meat. He sees himself as a hunter, a stud who cant live without recent meat. And so it starts. They are nude, his cuties. 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 guy 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 guy has a gun. And there is actually no thing else to do, is there? When this chab tells u to run. You run like hell. He drags em outside and unchains em and begins spewing out pellets, scaring em up precious. After all, this chab wishes 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 season on angel. The blonde is the 1st to drop. He takes the others down likewise, the brunette hair and the black-haired angel. The marks of paintball ooze 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 fastened billibongs, 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, this 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 midst of the woods. He smacks butts. He plays with their love melons and nipps, tight from the cold. His coarse fingers twist and knead, doing with em whatsoever this chab craves. 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 this chab sets on 2 posts. It is in the shape of a body. He tells em they have to resolve who is going to be cooked tonight. It is for em to resolve. They groan. They cry, moving backward, clustered jointly, the human cook basket expecting. The golden-haired 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 cookie. 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 beauties are given the task of making sure she’s roasted valuable and even. Her skin goes red. Please hurry, this babe says, please, please hurry. And so they turn her so that babe can cook the other side and supplicate to be turned another time. An apple is poked into the blond’s throat. She is quieter now. As though that babe is giving up, letting go. As though this babe can forget her body. She is basted and barbecued, her round marangos 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 wet crack. When the lips are widen and moist, just previous to the plunge, and now the scent can sometimes be smoky.

Format: mp4
Duration: 51:17
Video: 1920x1080, AVC (H.264), 4771kbps
Audio: 108kbps

File size: 1.8 GB