seemed to whisper something in Tracy's ear.
Held in this chicken-wing position, Tracy could only squirm, tits shaking in her flimsy shirt. Carmen's smile so gleeful, almost orgasmic. Heather could see pussy juice sliding down her stockings.
Outside, a hundred feet away, Heather could hear the muffled version of Tracy's screaming and yelling as it traveled through the glass and brush. And yet, she did nothing.
Well, she did nothing to help Tracy. Her fingers had already started to work on her crotch through the tight fabric of her pants. It felt automatic—instinctive, really—to do this.
As Heather's hot stroking continued, she just watched Monica happily sucking her man's cock. She watched Tracy struggling to get away, face turning red from the effort. And she watched the man in question clearly becoming excited by all of it. His hips bucked harder into Monica's mouth. The thick, high heels of Monica slid through the carpet as the hot young babe's legs became overwhelmed with pleasure.
The two of them, Tracy and the man, seemed to be conversing. Tracy's responses seemed somewhat hysterical.
Heather's radio was right there. She could call Sandra. She should tell her partner what was happening, that she could see Tracy screaming and crying for help. But she didn't. Instead, her hands went down to her jeans, unbuckling them. It was so easy to slide her fingers into her panties.
The man picked up his remote and aimed it. Tracy's arms went limp. Heather watched Carmen's fingers slide up between Tracy's fingers. A bright, purple light seemed to be present in Tracy's eyes. It faded more and more as time went on.
The man would say something, and Tracy would respond, nodding. As if she was in class, as if she was receiving some grand lecture. Shiny wetness could be seen running down Tracy's legs, running down from her skirt. Carmen slipped some of it up and licked it, nodding at her man and emoting enthusiastically.
“Key?” Sandra asked again, the radio crackling. “Heather? Is everything all right?”
Tracy started to smile at the man. Her nods became more enthused.
The man pointed at the floor in front of himself, and Tracy hesitated.
Inside of Heather's panties, her fingers were working happily.
God, how had that happened? She didn't care. It felt so good.
She already knew what was going to happen before it did. She knew the next step, and all she wanted was to watch it. To watch the girl's mind slip away from her.
Oh god, what was wrong with her?
The purple light filled the small room again. The man said something, and Tracy began to nod, and nod again. Carmen moved away from Tracy, who now stood in a happy daze.
Carmen crawled toward the man and knelt in front of him beside her stepmother, sucking him gleefully. The two traded kisses and licks for a time, sometimes rubbing their tongues and mouths up and down his shaft together, their lips forming a perfect vacuum along his thick meat.
The purple light seemed to exit from Tracy's eyes. The man said something and Tracy nodded happily.
Ripping off her shirt, Tracy fell to her knees. Her entire demeanor bespoke of a female consumed with lust, with need, with the desire to serve. She was staring at the man with adoration in her eyes, with unrestrained envy at Monica's place on his lap.
Only moments ago, Tracy had been filled with desperation and fear.
Heather's fingers were deep in her cunt, now.
Why wasn't she stopping this?
She had her radio, right there. She could call Sandra and have her bust down the door within seconds. With her experience, she knew exactly what to say to Sandra that would have a whole SWAT team come within minutes, busting down the doors and not even putting themselves at risk for whatever the device was that the man held.
But Heather did not call anyone, nor did she formulate plans of going in herself to somehow save those girls.
Clearly, they wanted to be there now. Whether they had started that way or not, an enormous amount
Held in this chicken-wing position, Tracy could only squirm, tits shaking in her flimsy shirt. Carmen's smile so gleeful, almost orgasmic. Heather could see pussy juice sliding down her stockings.
Outside, a hundred feet away, Heather could hear the muffled version of Tracy's screaming and yelling as it traveled through the glass and brush. And yet, she did nothing.
Well, she did nothing to help Tracy. Her fingers had already started to work on her crotch through the tight fabric of her pants. It felt automatic—instinctive, really—to do this.
As Heather's hot stroking continued, she just watched Monica happily sucking her man's cock. She watched Tracy struggling to get away, face turning red from the effort. And she watched the man in question clearly becoming excited by all of it. His hips bucked harder into Monica's mouth. The thick, high heels of Monica slid through the carpet as the hot young babe's legs became overwhelmed with pleasure.
The two of them, Tracy and the man, seemed to be conversing. Tracy's responses seemed somewhat hysterical.
Heather's radio was right there. She could call Sandra. She should tell her partner what was happening, that she could see Tracy screaming and crying for help. But she didn't. Instead, her hands went down to her jeans, unbuckling them. It was so easy to slide her fingers into her panties.
The man picked up his remote and aimed it. Tracy's arms went limp. Heather watched Carmen's fingers slide up between Tracy's fingers. A bright, purple light seemed to be present in Tracy's eyes. It faded more and more as time went on.
The man would say something, and Tracy would respond, nodding. As if she was in class, as if she was receiving some grand lecture. Shiny wetness could be seen running down Tracy's legs, running down from her skirt. Carmen slipped some of it up and licked it, nodding at her man and emoting enthusiastically.
“Key?” Sandra asked again, the radio crackling. “Heather? Is everything all right?”
Tracy started to smile at the man. Her nods became more enthused.
The man pointed at the floor in front of himself, and Tracy hesitated.
Inside of Heather's panties, her fingers were working happily.
God, how had that happened? She didn't care. It felt so good.
She already knew what was going to happen before it did. She knew the next step, and all she wanted was to watch it. To watch the girl's mind slip away from her.
Oh god, what was wrong with her?
The purple light filled the small room again. The man said something, and Tracy began to nod, and nod again. Carmen moved away from Tracy, who now stood in a happy daze.
Carmen crawled toward the man and knelt in front of him beside her stepmother, sucking him gleefully. The two traded kisses and licks for a time, sometimes rubbing their tongues and mouths up and down his shaft together, their lips forming a perfect vacuum along his thick meat.
The purple light seemed to exit from Tracy's eyes. The man said something and Tracy nodded happily.
Ripping off her shirt, Tracy fell to her knees. Her entire demeanor bespoke of a female consumed with lust, with need, with the desire to serve. She was staring at the man with adoration in her eyes, with unrestrained envy at Monica's place on his lap.
Only moments ago, Tracy had been filled with desperation and fear.
Heather's fingers were deep in her cunt, now.
Why wasn't she stopping this?
She had her radio, right there. She could call Sandra and have her bust down the door within seconds. With her experience, she knew exactly what to say to Sandra that would have a whole SWAT team come within minutes, busting down the doors and not even putting themselves at risk for whatever the device was that the man held.
But Heather did not call anyone, nor did she formulate plans of going in herself to somehow save those girls.
Clearly, they wanted to be there now. Whether they had started that way or not, an enormous amount
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