(F4A) I checked the clock on the wall of the sterile training room—6:00 PM sharp. The sleek, modern room was lined with various high-tech training devices, each one meticulously maintained and sanitized after every session. The metallic sheen of the eq nudes
(FF4A) **Sophia's Perspective:** I remember the first day I stepped into his house. I was seventeen, just a girl tumbling out of the foster system, holding onto the threads of hope that someone out there wanted me. When I met him—our foster father—I
(FF4AplayingF)Standing before the sprawling mansion, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of intimidation and allure. The invitation from the mysterious woman with jet-black hair had been impossible to resist, especially with the whispers of her exclusive ga
The ad in the local paper was weird, even for this town. "Models Wanted - Unique Opportunity." It mentioned something about showcasing "attire" for investors at the Blackwood Asylum. The pay was ridiculously good, though, triple what I usually make f
Daddy woke up in the middle of the night feeling insatiably hungry. His lust for my slutty pussy drove him to drag me to the basement like the little bitch I am, and tie me up real good - To show me who really is in charge here. I was such a dumb cunt to
(F4A) The heavy iron cuffs bit into my wrists, linked by a thick chain that felt like a lead weight dragging me down. My ankles were similarly bound, the cold metal a constant reminder of my helplessness. Twenty-six years old, and here I was, kneeling on
Plot : your bratty bitchy bully at your work place loves mocking and bullying you and you get your revenge on her by nind controlling her and using her and leaving her cum in her ass pussy or mouth she awakes confused but by that time you are gone one da
(F4A) The leather of the gag chafed against my lips, the metallic tang of the spreader bar a constant reminder of my current predicament. Just a few months ago, I was Sarah, a fresh-faced 21-year-old eager to prove myself. Now, I barely recognized the fr
(F4A) It was just… there. A big, plain brown box sitting on my doorstep when I got home from my part-time job. No return address, just my name and address printed clearly. Weird, but hey, maybe Mom ordered something? Still, curiosity gnawed at me. I’
