“You were sent here to serve me,” Miranda shouted, crossing her arms in front of her breasts. Her fishnet and boot clad legs were spread forcefully apart. XXX “Those bitches better be set up and waiting already,” Miranda answered brusquely, her tone indicating she didn’t want to talk. Warm piss soaked her jeans, ran down her thighs and puddled in her shoe unnoticed as she struggled to run, scream, something. She plunged as many of her fingers as deep into her dripping hole, pounding them in over and over. Mariel headed for the path, glancing disinterestedly at Heather as she began to stir. Miranda’s creamy skin and golden hair glowed in the light of the full moon. “Please Miranda,” Heather began but, her plea died on her tongue as the smoke began to rapidly dissipate.
