Release Year: 2022
Studio: InfernalRestraints
Cast: Lorelei, 912, Moonshine
He thinks of em as turkeys.To him those beauties are no thing greater quantity than meat. He sees himself as a hunter, a guy who cant live without new meat. And so it starts. They are undressed, his angels. There are 3 of em. He has em in his hunting cabin. Their arms are tied 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 or sipping coffee in your home. And the next thing u know, u are exposed. And this chab has a gun. And there is truly no thing else to do, is there? When that guy tells u to run. You run like hell. He drags em outside and unchains em and begins spewing out pellets, scaring em up valuable. After all, this guy 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 beauty. The golden-haired 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 fastened milk sacks, 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 booties. He plays with their pantoons and nipps, tight from the cold. His coarse fingers twist and knead, doing with em soever that guy craves. Evening comes. A fire burns beside a pond. All 3 gals are standing, fastened 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 also hawt. They jostle back and forth, breast to breast, their skin luminous in the black. He arrives with a metal grill that this guy sets on 2 posts. It is in the shape of a body. He tells em they have to come to a conclusion 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 bawdy cleft. It keeps her very still, so that the fire can do it is work. She breathes intense as the heat grows, baking, her chest heaving. The other 2 cuties are given the task of making sure she’s roasted precious and even. Her skin goes red. Please hurry, that babe says, please, please hurry. And so they turn her so that babe can cook the other side and implore to be turned anew. An apple is pushed 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 milk shakes smeared with sauce, trickling down into the fire. Fluid leaks from her knees. The flush of her body may remind him of the pink internal shine of cunt. When the lips are widen and moist, just previous to the plunge, and now the scent can sometimes be smoky.
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