jean gunnhildr

“You’ll thank me,” she said as she stepped out of the shower, returning with garden variety paper scissors and a disposable razor. She snipped my pubes close with the scissors, not even taking a minute. Then she got a big handful of soapy suds and coated my cock and balls. In just a couple of minutes rinsed me with a handheld sprayer, revealing a totally bald, and, I must say, a more impressive looking penis.

“You want to be treated like a whore? This is how a whore gets treated. Fucked when and how I want to.” I pulled my cock from her pussy and pushed it into her ass crack, searching for her tight hole. I let go of her arms. “Spread your ass for me.”“No!” she said sharply. “No way.” I pushed harder against her anus.

Getting to her feet, covered in dirt and sweat, Thera cracked her whips and wrapped them around Cain’s neck and wrist, then pulled. The surface of the water, solid and smooth like polished stone, became rough and sharp like a cheese grater, and as she pulled, it ripped across Cain’s skin. All of her previous opponents had suffered this fate. At best, they received epidermal abrasions similar to a bicycle accident, and at worst, their flesh was peeled off like an orange. However, Cain laughed and snapped the liquid coils. His flesh had been scoured, but it just barely. It wasn’t just the muscles and horn of a rhino; he also had their tough skin.