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He continues to rape me and squeeze my throat harder.
My attempts to escape get him even more.
He is a sadist! He wants to strangle me.
L hate you! Max Portnov, I hate you! As a child, once unfamiliar boys from someone else’s yard tied me up and started to scoff.

One girl, with whom I was playing then, ran to our house and told my parents.
Later I found out that my father remained sitting at the table.
He just grunted: – Nothing, the kid should be able to stand up for himself.
Mother saved me then.
She ran out and set me free.
I want to cuddle up to my mother and never let her go.
Mom, save me! It’s getting dark in the eyes.
I have no strength left.
I’m losing consciousness.
Sandra left with Miriam to return in a collar after two days, sitting on the cold concrete floor of the stairwell with a lowered depressed look.
– Hello.
Can you? “Miriam gives me an innocent look, continuing to fiddle with the steel chain in his hands.
– Do not be afraid.
It’s a chicken, – distracted by Sandra for a second, she weaves her perfectly groomed hair.
– Golden Scallop.
“Come in,” glancing down embarrassedly, I pass them into the hallway.
Miriam, in a graceful beige coat with a turndown collar, ankle boots, drags Sandra behind herself on a leash.
She obediently crawls on her knees, wagging a bunch of muscles under her red jeans.
I know these games, Miriam demands the same attitude from me, but now I personally see what she means.
Poor Sandra.
Miriam must have put a tough condition on her: either games, or no love.
I’m helping Sandra take off her jacket and take off her shoes.
Sitting on the floor is not so easy to do.
Miriam smirks contemptuously as I watch the black boots on the hairpin off Sandra’s thin legs.
We go to the kitchen.

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Sandra follows on the heels of the hostess, sits on his knees near the battery.
She can not look up, apparently.
– You want tea? – I already have four different varieties of fruit tea for Miriam.
“Yes, I want to,” my chocolate bar is looking for something in a cabinet by the stove, rising on tiptoes.
She is wearing a black knee-length bell skirt and a white blouse with a short sleeve.
“Where are the plates?” “Here,” I draw the plate to her.
– Thank! – Miriam pours water from a tap into a plate and puts it on the floor in front of Sandra.
– Drink it.
That rests on the perfect scarlet manicure in tattered brown linoleum and greedily applied to the water tongue.
I get distracted from tea brewing: after all, it’s not every day that you see how the owner of an elite fitness club and black land cruiser is lapping water from a bowl in your kitchen.
In tight red jeans and a white blouse with a deep neckline, she looks like a cat.
Similarly, arches the back and pulls the neck to the plate.
– Like? – Miriam notices my numbness.
“I don’t know,” I’m afraid to offend Sandra.
“Does she like it? Miriam crouches down in front of Sandra, pulling on her collar.”
She apprehensively gives us

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an impenetrable look.
– Do you like, bitch? – Miriam asks frantically in a capricious voice, bringing her face very close to her.
“Yes, Madam,” Sandra mumbles.
“You see, she likes it,” Miriam says enthusiastically, returning to me.
We sit down to drink tea, with a healthy hand, I pour boiling water into two cups.
Miriam chirps cheerfully, eating the livers one by one, and the feeling of awkwardness leaves me.
Dry biscuits crumble in the mouth, stuck in the throat, eyes involuntarily slide to the battery.
I take out a plate, spread several livers on it and put it on the floor in front of Sandra.
She has already come to terms with the new role and somehow strangely looks at me.
Miriam pauses for a moment, tenderly watching my actions.
I feel like a fool, showing the usual hospitality.
Sandra does not touch the cookies, and I have an even more stupid idea – to pour her tea in an empty plate.
So I do: pour the first tea leaves, and then hot water from the kettle.
All this is happening in absolute silence, intentionally created by Miriam, to emphasize the solemnity of the moment.
– Well, chicken, like visiting? – she pulls the chain tied to the pipe.
“Yes, Madam,” Sandra replies almost in a whisper, soaking her liver in tea.
“Will you break our testicle? Sandra’s hand freezes with a half-eaten liver, lips sliding to one side, she again gives me a strange look. Mom webcam masturbate xxx.

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