last origin

Once she was settled and sure her dad wasn’t stirring, she could finally appreciate her prize. Just a few inches below her was her father’s penis. Easing herself down a bit more she buried her nose right above the base of it and into the thicket of his pubes. She inhaled deeply and shuddered. It was just as good as she remembered. She pressed down further burying her mouth as well into the scratchy patch of hair and continued to sniff. Sarah moved her nose all around the patch of hair, wanting to enjoy every part of it before moving on.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

The last time he saw her was just before the Night of a Hundred Heads, when he had been brought to the War Room. Her head was shaved back then, but since her fall from grace, it seemed she was letting her hair grow.“Unhand me, you godless bastard!” she hissed, trying to loosen the iron grip on her throat.