"Thanks." Cleo continued to eat. "Maybe show you the RV area and where to avoid. They can be an unsavory lot." Nodding to herself she went on, "also s...ow you where Jake's place is and maybe the lake." Don't forget to point out that old trail where the mountain lion was spotted last season either." Molly added."Yeah. Another good place to avoid. Ah well, best get dressed." Cleo hopped to her feet and disappeared, bouncing up the staircase, her plate only half eaten, if that.An hour later would. No one is going to hurt me anymore. In this moment, I feel my left foot being lifted. Someone's strong hands are holding it. They clasp around it and push. At first, I am unable to understand what's going on. The pain overwhelms me. I feel bone fragments moving, grating against each other. I scream. The torture stops immediately. My foot is on fire. I open my eyes. A man is scolding one of the nurses. She blushes. A mask is placed on my face, and I slowly drift into unconsciousness. The torture. Her large, firm titties jutted straight ahead like two missile nose cones, stretching the thin, cotton fabric of her blouses to the breaking point. Rachel told me one morning as we showered together, that she loved the way the soft fabric caressed her sensitive nipples, keeping them in a mild state of arousal. With three men in the house and only one shower, we often shared a morning shower. There wasn't anything erotic about us sharing showers; they were just expedient because there was only. It started like every other day when they met at midday near the waterfall. This day the peasant brought a picnic. He set it all up while he waited for her. She arrived at the same time she normally did, riding her white horse, wearing the prettiest dress the peasant had ever seen. It was red, with a white bodice. He helped her down like he normally did. And together they sat on the blanket and started eating the fried chicken he had brought. They talked and giggled, listened to the birds.
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