Release Year: 2022
Studio: InfernalRestraints
Cast: Lorelei, 912, Moonshine
He thinks of em as turkeys.To him those cuties are no thing greater quantity than meat. He sees himself as a hunter, a stud who likes new meat. And so it starts. They are exposed, his beauties. 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 some other. 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 or sipping coffee in your home. And the next thing u know, u are exposed. And this chab has a gun. And there is indeed 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 fine. After all, this chab desires to be challenged. He’s looking for sport, just a adult baby enjoyment. They run throughout the woods all in a flurry, screaming, squawking. Open season on cutie. The golden-haired is the 1st to drop. He takes the others down likewise, the dark brown and the black-haired gal. The marks of paintball leak 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 marangos, 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 midst of the woods. He smacks butts. He plays with their bumpers and teats, tight from the cold. His intense fingers twist and knead, doing with em soever that guy desires. Evening comes. A fire burns beside a pond. All 3 angels are standing, tied tightly jointly animal training 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 darksome. 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 make a decision 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 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 heavy as the heat grows, baking, her chest heaving. The other 2 angels are given the task of making sure she’s roasted priceless 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 implore to be turned another time. An apple is poked into the blond’s face hole. She is quieter now. As though that babe is giving up, letting go. As though that babe can forget her body. She is basted and barbecued, her round love bubbles smeared with sauce, oozing down into the fire. Fluid leaks 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 juicy, just in advance of the plunge, and now the scent can sometimes be smoky.
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