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Thoughts raced thru Evelyn’s brain. ‘Should I? Can I dare debase this sacred object with my basest desires?’ But then another thought entered, a thought that seemed to emit from the object itself, ‘Give yourself to me. Let me become one with you.’ Evelyn slowly got up from the chair, and, gingerly holding the knife, made her way over to the bed. As she lay down, her breath grew short as she anticipated the entrance of this magical rock. Careful not to cut herself, Evelyn began running the stone over her breasts. Everywhere it touched seemed to leave lingering warmth that swelled thru her and brought physical pleasures that defied her earthly experiences. As she traced circles around her erect nipples, her pussy began to quiver in a delight normally reserved for the entrance of the Admiral’s hard cock and she began to quake in the throes of orgasm. For the second time that day, Evelyn’s passions were interrupted. ‘Couldn’t wait for me?’ Evelyn opened her eyes to see the Admiral. Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty...” She expected them to stop, then. She couldn’t take another ten. Thirty-one surprised her. There was a long pause. Karen said, “Don’t make me give you extras. Count.” “Thirty-one.” Counting one had to mean another was coming. Karen didn’t let up. He wouldn’t want that. Thirty-two was wicked, low and mean. She cried out, then remembered to count. “Thirty-two.” She was sputtering now, her nose running, crying hard. Thirty-three was a bit higher, but still hurt. She wondered what her ass looked like. “Thirty-three.” She lifted up, ready. Instead, she felt Karen’s lips again. “Is that all?” she asked, scared of the answer. “For now, my sweet.” She started to go down to her knees, but Karen smacked her on the ass. It took her breath away. “Stay up. I need a picture, first.” Crying, she held her ass up. Karen turned her head sideways, taking a picture of her tears, too. The phone chimed. Karen read out loud, “Good girl. Do you think he.
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