Tears of joy were gently trickling down her face as she held her own flesh and blood in her arms. She could feel the softening cock still jerk occasio...ally causing her own cunt to respond back with a squeeze of the cock still in her. Her cunt ached and felt sore, but would have accepted another pounding by her son if he so wished… she knew that her body did not belong to her any more, it was her son’s to use and abuse, for his pleasure. =========================== Ross woke up from his nap. With the maid's encouragement she started to descend, step by step more of the cold, damp cellar came into view.A table, obviously set with various things, but all hidden by the black cloth under which it was cloaked; a hard-backed chair; and the centerpiece of course, the thing that drew her, the rack. It was the picture of it on the calling card that she had been delivered by a barman in a random bar in the city and the guy that had given it to him apparently just disappeared. She had only. More

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