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Languages: English

Location: Europe

Body Decorations: Belly pierce

Smokes/Drinks: no/ocasionaly

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 27

Body Type: Petite/Skinny

Sign Up Imlive Say I Ant Chose The Username I Want - Annie was at the flat.

She is a stunning beauty, with piercing green eyes and deep purple lips. She was wearing a green leather thong and bee-lined heels. The thong was comfortable and she thought, I cannot see much anyway. The room was cool. Then she saw him. His features were pitch dark, big and muscular. He looked uncomfortable though, and he almost flinched. He sat, on the edge of the bed, on his haunches, looking out the dark window. Chasing her, he saw her eyes flicker, and she became startled. Frowning, she ignores his increasingly loud words. Legs trembling, she follows him. She wants it. She can't stop it. But she must wait, and will herself to. "IT IS TIME". the voice speaks.

She stiffens. He moves over to the desk. He sits. He looks up at her. "A time for thier thine own desires is here." Slowly she takes a breath. It is quiet for a moment. Her mouth opens. He strokes her chin. She is studying his face. He moves his head, away from her, leaning down to look at her. She listens intently, but still runs her fingers through the thin, wet hair that is gathered in the back of her hair. She can feel it tickle her. He takes her chin in one of his hands, places it on top of his head and tilts it back and forwards. She listens, and her thighs tremble. He tells her to stand still. She does.

He gives her back a hard kick, which drives her backward. To the floor, she hears him tugging, and watches as he pushes her up to her knees. She does as she is told. Curious, she rises to her feet, but finds that her ass has been kicked in. ANOTHER RIP! She hears the two men talk, in the dark, but cannot make out their words. They move to the front of her. She feels their breaths, and the strong odor of leather. She knows they are discussing her. She has done nothing wrong. Yet they are punishing her for something she can not understand. Is it her fault, or does the tempo of the talk become harder in the chill of the night. She listens intently as the conversation turns to what the men have discussed, and how they think of her. It is discussed. The topics are discussed. The visions she has had are becoming less and less interesting as she hears the talk, and sees them flashes through her mind. The use she has made of these flashes, she is surprised it has not yet happened again..

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