1. The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirteen: The Despair of the Warrior


    Date: 6/7/2016, Categories: Fantasy, BDSM, Bondage and restriction, Domination/submission, Exhibitionism, Female/Female, Lesbian, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Transgendered, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 87.2, Source: sexstories.com

    in.” A smile crossed Franny's lips. “Yes, we did.” Kyle swallowed. “Um, so can I go up there.” “Of course, dear,” Abigail nodded. Kyle trooped upstairs. He knew where Britney's room was, he had been in there so many times before. He paused at the door, muffled moans and a squeaking bed could be heard, and a flush crept up his cheek. It sounded like they were fucking in there. “You can come in, Kyle,” Britney shouted, her voice sounded a little more throaty than usual. He opened the door and blinked. Phillipa was bound with many ropes crisscrossing her body, binding her limbs, wrapping around her breasts and squeezing them. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and her face was in the pillows, a ball-gag in her mouth. She was kneeling and Britney was fucking her from behind, the Rakshasa's fleshy dick sliding in and out of Phillipa's messy cunt. “Hello,” Britney smiled, her perky breasts bouncing. They were rather nice. Kyle never realized how nice her figure was beneath all her clothes. “Um, maybe I should wait until...” “I am almost finished,” she panted. “My little prize has earned her reward, right?” Phillipa nodded, moaning. Kyle noticed her ass was a mass of red welts, and a crop lay carelessly strewn on the bed beside them. He never realized his best friend was some sort of S&M dominatrix. Flesh slapped in the musty room, and Kyle shifted, his own cock growing erect. There was something so wrong and so hot about watching a woman with a cock fucking another woman. “Oh, ...
    yes!” Britney gasped. “So wonderful, my love! Let me feel you cum! Let me feel your naughty hole massage my cock!” Phillipa let out a muffled moan, her body shaking and quivering. A large grin split Britney's lips, and she fucked her harder and faster. Britney's face, framed by her thick, brown hair, contorted as her own orgasm neared. “Oh, yes!” she gasped. “That is it! Feel my love, my prize!” She buried into Phillipa, grunting and mewling. She drew back and slid slowly all the way into her prize's cunt, shuddering. She leaned on her slave's back, breathing heavily, a broad smile on her face. Then she pulled out, sitting back on her bed, sweat beading her body. White cum leaked out of Phillipa's well-fucked hole. “What can I do for you, Kyle?” she asked. Kyle sank down on her desk chair. “I don't know what to do, Britney.” “About what?” “Everything. It's all falling apart. All I can think about is Fatima lying on the hospital bed. It's my fault, Britney. I shouldn't have let her go.” Britney grabbed a flannel robe, belting it around her, then walked over to him. She gave him a hug. He froze; his friend had never hugged him before. She was always such a reserved girl, placid as a calm lake and remote as the ocean's depths. “You did not make Fatima go. You could not have stopped her from going. She loves Aaliyah as much as you do. She wanted to go and save her.” “But—” “You could not have stopped her, Kyle.” “I could have,” he protested. She sighed. “Kyle, your sister is a ...
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