I went back to the room I had occupied last. I found my clothes and put on a pair of soiled jeans and a clean thick tee shirt. The reason I chose the ...hick tee was that I was cold. The mountains got cold at night even in the summer I was told, and full summer wasn't even there yet. It had an effect on my breasts I thought better minimized.When I got back to the house there was a man walking around with a folder filled with photographs. He was identifying the guests. "How is it going," I asked. I gulp down his cum and I feel my juices flowing down my fingers as I shake and my pussy contracts around my fingers as I climax.Another favorite: on my hands and knees on the bed, I hear behind me the sound of a belt being pulled out of it's loops. Anticipating the blows I'll soon receive, I bite into a pillow. My ass, back and thighs are peppered with blow after blow until I am a squirming, screaming mess begging to be fucked. I am always rewarded in this fantasy with, "Good girl," whispered. One couple attended with their two teenage daughters. They both wore short denim skirts and t-shirts that barely concealed the shape of their adolescent breasts. I was still at an age when the attraction to the opposite sex had yet to become prevalent but something in their manner told me that they were definitely unsuitable."I'm not living here," one girl protested, her mouth chewing gum. "It smells like something's curled up and died in there." Did you see the bath?" her sister replied in. Woodhouse would no doubt have many warding spells around his house, but his magic was weak against me. "I can trigger the wardings," I said, "They'll hurt me, but I don't think they can kill me. If you follow, you'll be safe, and you can rescue the witches."Lana smiled. "I thought the same thing, but I'm not going to let you just get hit by his magic." Oh?" I can cast a protection spell on you, a shield against magical wounds. I can make one pretty strong, and there are – entities – who owe me.
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