Fleur blinked firmly, her head swimming as she fought to regain consciousness. She couldn’t see, something over her head obscured her vision. She groaned as she attempted to sit up, but found that she couldn’t move her arms to push herself upright. Not that it mattered. Even if her arms weren’t bound behind her back, Fleur found herself too weak to sit up without help. That help soon manifested in the form of a quick, deft yank by the hair that pulled Fleur to her knees. A set of hands shoved her back, until she hit a wall. Those hands yet again grabbed Fleur, this time removing the burlap sack over her head and allowing her to see for the first time since she woke up.
She found herself in a dingy garage, the only light coming from a dim, flickering light bulb hanging from the low ceiling. There was a workbench to the right wall, where several bloody tools hung. Fleur felt her heart pound in her chest as she squirmed in her bindings, so focused on escaping that she failed to notice the woman standing just before her.
She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, watching as Fleur struggled for a bit before clearing her throat. The supermodel stopped her squirming immediately, her focus falling on the other woman. She wore a dark grey suit with a light purple bowtie and a similarly grey hat. The woman removed her suit jacket and folded it neatly before setting it down on the workbench.
“Morning, love,” she said, her voice dry and uninterested. “I take it you slept well?”
“Where am I? What do you want from me?” demanded Fleur. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Now, you ask those questions, but do you want the truth or do you want something to make you feel better?” The woman removed her hat and set it near her suit, letting her straight, tamed hair fall out down to her shoulders. “In any case, you’re in the Lower East Side. What I want from you is a fat chunk of change. As for my name, I’m Octavia. Octavia Melody.” Fleur’s eyes went wide, which brought a sinister smirk to Octavia’s features. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me, eh?”
Fleur most certainly had heard of Octavia, one of the most powerful people in the country. The boss of the Manehattan Crime Family and among the most despised criminals in modern history. Whether it be drugs, extortion, or murder, Octavia Melody was sure to have a hold of the market in this town.
“Yes,” said Fleur quietly. “I’ve heard of you.”
“Well, that’s good. Should make things go a bit smoother going forth. I know you, of course. The beautiful Fleur dis Lee. Charmed.”
“What are you going to do to me?” asked Fleur. Her voice shook slightly, which said to Octavia that she already had a few guesses.
“Well, I’ve got a reputation in Manehattan, it would seem. Based on what you’ve heard about me, what do you think I’m going to do?”
“Please don’t kill me. Please, I’m begging you. I’ll pay, my husband is Fancy Pants, just give me a number and—”
“I know who your husband is, you brainless twat. And calm down,” said Octavia. “If you do as you’re told, I’ll have no reason to kill you. Killing you would be bad for business. Can’t have perfectly good product going to waste.”
“P-product?”
Octavia said nothing as she approached Fleur, appraising her. She looked good for her age; A few months from 38, but she looked no older than 22. Octavia knew that that wasn’t due to good dieting or moisturizing, but instead due to botox and the scalpel. Her scarlet dress and extravagant jewelry reminded Octavia why she hated her peers and clients, the morons with more money than they knew what to do with. That was why she took a small amount of pleasure in what should’ve been a purely business experience.
“How much did those cost your husband?” asked Octavia, pointing to Fleur. The model looked down to the pearls around her neck and silently sighed in relief. Maybe if she talked up the jewelry, she’d be able to bargain for her safety.
“The pearls? They cost a fortune,” promised Fleur. “Fancy bought them for me to celebrate our tenth anniversary, it must’ve cost—”
“Not the pearls, stupid. Your tits.” Fleur’s face flushed with anger, which switched to fear as Octavia approached her. “Don’t act so indignant, now. You and I both know that God didn’t give you knockers that big or perky. Especially not at your age. No, no, no, those beauties have to be the result of modern medicine. So, how much was it?”
“Fuck you!” spat Fleur. “When my husband finds out I’m missing, he won’t rest until I’m found and you’re behind bars where you belong!”
Octavia wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused. On one hand, Fleur’s outburst was incredibly brave. Not just everyone had the guts to speak to the Boss of Manehattan like that. It was, despite being pointless and meaningless, fairly impressive in the courage it took.
On the other hand, Octavia felt that there was a very fine line separating courage from stupidity, and Fleur may have just crossed that line.
“Miss Lee, I’m frankly appalled.” Octavia crossed the room to the workbench, clattering with something that Fleur couldn’t quite see. “A lady shouldn’t be using such coarse language. I suggest you watch your tongue.” Fleur felts her heart dropped into a pit as Octavia approached, a rusty set of pliers in hand. She grabbed Fleur by the chin, pressing the pliers between her lips. Fleur was so shocked that she did nothing to stop Octavia from forcing her jaws apart and clamping down on her tongue with the pliers. “Unless you’d rather I take it. Now, I expect a certain level of respect, and I will most assuredly punish those who don’t give it to me. Do I make myself clear?” Tears ran down Fleur’s cheeks as she nodded, her mascara running in messy streaks. Octavia removed the pliers, then gently ran her hand down Fleur’s face, wiping the tears clean.
“W-what are you going to do to me?” sniffled Fleur.
“Well, that all depends on how well you behave yourself. As I mentioned previously, I have no desire to kill you if I don’t absolutely have to.” Octavia reached into her pocket and withdrew her butterfly knife, which she flipped open. “But, by that same token, I am running a business here. If you prove to be more trouble than you’re worth, I’ll cut my losses. That means I’ll cut your throat.”
“You’re… You’re gonna ransom me to my husband. Is that it?” Fleur tensed as Octavia neared her with the knife in hand. “H-he’ll pay, I’m sure, he’ll give you whatever you want. You don’t have to hurt me, he’ll give you what you want.”
“He told me you weren’t especially bright, but I didn’t realize you’d be this daft.” Octavia crouched before Fleur with a sinister smirk. “Do you recall how you came into my possession? Last night, you were at a fundraiser with that husband you love so much. Do you remember? I bet you felt yourself go dizzy. You likely blamed it on something you ate. I’m sure Fancy insisted that the two of you leave immediately, so you can get some rest. But you don’t remember making it home, do you? The last thing you remember is what?”
“Third… Third and Main,” said Fleur, piecing together the events of the night before. “Fancy said we should take a cab… But a friend…”
“A friend of his offered you a ride, right. But Fancy never got in the car, did he?” Octavia grinned a bit wider. “No, Fancy let you in, closed the door behind you, and went right back to the party.”
“No… But… Why would he…?”
“Why, indeed. Perhaps it was because he feared that the roofies he slipped in your champagne would kick in long before you two made it home. Perhaps it was because he knew that he had an appointment with me anyway.” Octavia took her knife and used it move aside the straps of Fleur’s dress, baring her shoulders. “Or perhaps it was because I charge extra for extraction, and it’d be cheaper if he handed you off himself.”
Fleur bashed her head against Octavia’s suddenly, knocking both of them silly. Fleur came to a bit earlier than her captor and made a wild dive for the exit. She didn’t get very far before Octavia’s hands grabbed her by the hair.
“I’m going to be honest, love,” growled Octavia. “That fucking hurt.” She yanked Fleur to her feet and pushed her against the wall, pressing the blade of her knife to Fleur’s cheek. “I’ve got half a mind to cut your fucking face up. Not like this’ll be your first time under the knife. I wonder if I your real looks are under there somewhere…” The blade sank slowly into Fleur’s flesh, producing a squeal of pain and a thin trickle of blood. “No. Lucky for you, I need you with your face intact. No one will want to fuck you with no face. Well, no one will want to and pay full price.”
Octavia gave Fleur another look, begrudgingly admitting to herself that the supermodel was beyond fuckable. She was thin and tall, her face flawless save for the little cut that Octavia herself gave her. Her breasts were perfect, just big enough to hold in your hand. She had no sag, wrinkle, blemish, or imperfection. She was simply perfect. Octavia knew that it was all so woefully artificial. The majority of Fleur’s natural beauty was gone, replaced by silicon, phony perfection.
“In any case, I really should get to work.” Octavia grabbed Fleur under the chin and used her thumb to wipe the blood from her cut away. “Now, I want you to listen to me, love, because I’m going to walk you through what’s going to happen here. I’m going to reach into your pretty little head and rip out the few intelligent thoughts that occupy it. Shake you like an Etch-a-Sketch, til everything that remains of your so-called ‘personality’ is gone.”
Octavia took her knife and swiped down the middle of Fleur’s dress, slicing the red garment in two. Fleur let out a squeal as Octavia ripped the shreds of fabric from Fleur’s body, baring her tits and pussy to the world. Octavia smirked, running her hand across the surface of Fleur’s breast. Her knuckles brushed nipple, and Fleur let out a tiny gasp, which told Octavia that she was especially sensitive in that particular area. She grinned, tucking that nugget of information away for later.
“When your head is good and empty—well, emptier than it is now, you already did most of the legwork for me—I’m going to put you through a bit of reconditioning. You see, Fancy is selling you to me so I can turn you into the perfect little fuckdoll. You will live only to pleasure your master. So, frankly, won’t be much different from your life before. You were a trophy wife anyway. This will be like that, except you don’t get to think or do anything your owner doesn’t fancy.”
“D-don’t…” Fleur couldn’t manage more than that just then, as Octavia gently circled Fleur’s nipple with the tip of the knife. “Please, just let me go…”
“If you think I’m actually going to let you go, then you’re dumber than you look,” said Octavia.
“I won’t tell anyone. Fancy, the police, no one. I swear.”
“Of course you won’t, you twat, because what I do to snitches makes what you’re about to go through look like a fucking spa day.” Octavia flipped her knife closed and returned to her workbench to gather more tools. “This is a financial problem. Fancy already paid me a fat chunk of change to take you off his hands, and you’re gonna make me a lot of money when I’m done rearranging your thoughts. That can’t happen if I just let you go.”
“What’s he paying you?” said Fleur, the fear in her voice slowly fading into anger. “How much am I worth to my husband?”
“Ten large. You’ll make me twice that once I reduce you to a set of cumholes,” said Octavia. She normally wouldn’t be this chatty with the product, but she found Fleur to be particularly amusing. Most of the girls she picked up for reconditioning weren’t handed over by their husbands.
“I will match that if you let me go,” breathed Fleur. “I have an offshore account that Fancy doesn’t know about. I will wire you twenty grand if you let me go, and twenty more if you kill that son of a bitch for giving me up to you.” Octavia chuckled derisively, then returned to Fleur with three small egg-shaped vibrators, connected via wires to the remote, and a small roll of duct tape in her hand.
“I may be a thieving, conniving, murderous crook,” said Octavia. “But I am certainly no traitor.”
“Forty, then. Forty thousand dollars, just let me go!”
“It’s not about the money, I assure you. I have a reputation to uphold.” Octavia taped a vibrator to each nipple, making sure they were secure. She took the last one and secured it to Fleur’s pussy, right against her clit. “If word gets out that all the product has to do is pay me to get away, no one would hire me.”
“P-please…”
“Hm… Let’s start off slow. Don’t want you getting off on this. How about… Here.” Octavia flipped the remote onto its lowest setting., causing the vibrators to whirr to life. Faint buzzing filled the room, followed swiftly by Fleur’s shuddering moans. “Hm… I’m not certain how I feel about that. How about a touch higher?”
Fleur let out a surprised squeal as the vibrators ramped up, sending arcs of intense pleasure through her sensitive nipples. It was too much for her, feeling more like pain than anything. Octavia watched her squirm for a bit before lowering the vibrators’ intensity. She was quite practiced at this sort of thing, so she knew from a cursory glance what to set the toy on. It was just high enough to tease Fleur to the edge, but just low enough to avoid actually giving herself the release she would surely need.
“That looks about perfect,” said Octavia. She smirked at Fleur’s blush, her fidgeting, her visible arousal in the form of the faint trickling along her thighs. Satisfied, Octavia taped the remote to Fleur’s chest, just beneath her tits, then returned to her workbench for a moment. She returned with two thick mittens, leather, and with the thumbs connected to the rest of the mitten. This would prevent the wearer from doing just about anything that required the use of one’s hands, which was just what Octavia wanted. She slipped the mittens onto Fleur’s hands and, just for good measure, secured them there with zip ties from her pocket.
“Now, I highly doubt that you’ll be able to get out of there, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn you anyway,” said Octavia. “If I come back and see any evidence to suggest that you took off those binds, or that you somehow highered or lowered the setting on those vibes… Well, I’ll tell it to you like this. Once you’re brain-broken, you’ll fetch me 20 grand. If you’re missing an arm, the price will only go down by 3. I know a fella who’d be willing to buy your dismembered corpse for 5 grand.” Octavia grinned dastardly. “If I manage to make 2 grand off you, I’ll be in the black. I have absolutely no qualms with cutting you up and letting some sicko fuck the biggest bits.” Fleur visibly paled at the threat, which told Octavia that Fleur wouldn't dare move even if she was served an escape on a silver platter. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Y-yes,” said Fleur shakily. “I won’t move.”
“Good girl. Alright, I’ll be back to check on you in a day or two. Don’t you cum now, alright?” Octavia turned for the door, pausing to listen to Fleur’s shaky, shuddering whines before turning out the lights and leaving Fleur to quiver in the dark.
Fleur could barely string together a coherent thought before long, and things only got worse with time. Her entire body ached and trembled from the nonstop stimulation of her most sensitive areas. She hadn’t slept the entire time that Octavia was gone, however long that might have been. With no light, no human interaction, it was impossible for her to tell if she’d been there for three days or three weeks.
The light cut on suddenly, blinding Fleur with it’s bright white glow. She couldn’t see, but she heard footsteps, and something dragging along the floor. The scraping against the cold concrete floor came to a stop, as did the footsteps. By this point, Fleur was able to blink a bit of vision back into her eyes, and she could make out the fuzzy image of Octavia and the thing she was dragging with her, a sturdy wooden chair. Octavia took a seat a few feet across from Fleur, holding in her hand a salad and a bottle of water.
“Morning, love. Or is it evening?” said Octavia. “You wouldn’t really know, now would you? Wanna take a guess at how long it’s been, sweetheart?”
“Th-three,” stammered Fleur, her brain melting from the pleasure. She quaked in a little puddle of her own arousal, just begging for release.
“Four, actually. I presume you must be quite thirsty, what with all those fluids you’ve lost.” Octavia unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a sip. “Would you like some?”
“Y-yes. Please.”
Octavia smirked, then tipped the bottle slightly, so that the liquid inside slowly began to trickle out and onto the floor.
“I’d hurry, then.” Octavia chuckled as Fleur, trembling and panicking, all but threw herself forward, squirming and writhing forward on her belly until she was at Octavia’s feet. She held her face under the stream of water, letting it splash against her features and into her mouth. It was humiliating, but Fleur had no room to argue. She was far too thirsty.
“Good little slut,” said Octavia, emptying the water onto and into Fleur. She took the opportunity to check Fleur’s remote, confirming that the model hadn’t managed to change the settings. Fleur could only wish for the vibrators to turn up, just enough to drive her over the edge. It wouldn’t take much, not after so much stimulation. Her clit and nipples were raw from the constant vibration. It made it hard for her to care about her escape. She just wanted to cum. She needed to cum.
“Hungry?” asked Octavia, though she knew the answer. Fleur nodded, watching intently as Octavia took a big bite of her salad. She chewed for a bit, leaned forward, and opened her mouth, letting a blob of wet, gooey, partially-chewed lettuce glomp onto Fleur’s face. She shuddered in disgust, which earned her another half-eaten mouthful onto the face. “I suggest you eat, love. Who knows when I’ll see fit to give you another meal?”
“I… I can’t… Mouth…” Fleur struggled to speak, and struggled even more to get this bastardized meal from her face to her mouth. When Octavia offered no help, Fleur found her only option was to roll onto her stomach, pressing her tits against the cold concrete. That little bit of extra stimulation almost tipped Fleur over the edge, but she managed to stay strong. She couldn’t cum now. She wasn’t sure what Octavia would do if she didn’t listen, and she didn’t intend to find out.
Instead of rubbing her sensitive bits against the floor to get herself off, she rubbed her face, getting the gobs of spat-up salad onto the floor, where Fleur was able to lick it up. It made her shudder to consume, and she blushed as Octavia laughed at her, but her options were exceedingly limited.
“What do you say?” teased Octavia. “Part of being a good little slut is manners.”
“Thank you…” The words tasted worse than the salad, like vinegar on the tongue.
“Good girl.” Octavia rewarded Fleur’s politeness with another bite of salad; It still came from her mouth, but Octavia didn’t chew anywhere near as much. Fleur actually got something that resembled a proper bit of food, which she greedily swallowed. “You’re behaving yourself quite well. You’ll make for a good fuckdoll.” Fleur didn’t bother responding, too concerned with savoring her meager meal. Octavia chuckled, then sat the rest of the salad in front of Fleur. “Eat up, puppy.”
Fleur hurried before Octavia could change her mind, burying her face in the bowl and eating as much as she could. Octavia leaned back in her seat and watched, smirking as the once-dignified model fell to the level of a starved mutt. It was amusing, to say the least. Amusing, satisfying and more than a little arousing.
“You know what? Since you’re being such a good little lass, I’m going to give you the opportunity to relieve yourself,” said Octavia. Fleur’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but she didn’t dare ask any questions. “You’re going to eat me out and, if you can get me to cum in… You’ve probably never eaten pussy before, so let’s be generous… Ten minutes. If you can get me off in ten minutes, I’ll take those mitts off you and let you go to town. And your time begins…” Octavia glanced at her watch for the time. “Now.”
Fleur’s eyes went wide, and she wasted a few seconds recovering from her shellshock. Soon enough, though, she shook herself back to reality, and she quickly pulled herself up onto Octavia’s lap. She couldn’t use her hands, of course, so she had to rely on her teeth to unbutton Octavia’s slacks. Fleur struggled to get the pants open, much to her captor’s amusement, but eventually succeeded. From there, she worked on the zipper, then the truly difficult act of pulling Octavia’s pants down while she sat. Of course, Octavia gave no assistance in this act, letting her captive struggle. Eventually, Fleur had to shimmy around to Octavia’s sides to try and pull her pants down that way. This method was slightly more successful, successful enough for Octavia to throw her a bone and boost herself up just enough for Fleur to pull her pants to her knees. Before Octavia sat, Fleur also grabbed the waistband of her black panties and pulled those down as well. With a clear shot at Octavia’s pussy, Fleur dived in, only for a hand to shoot forward and grab her by the throat.
“If you bite me, I swear to God, you will regret it,” growled Octavia, glaring intensely at Fleur. “Do you understand me?” Fleur nodded meekly, which seemed to satisfy the mobster, who then shoved Fleur’s face into her crotch.
Fleur was inexperienced, her ministrations sloppy and ametuer. She tried to do what she would have liked, plunging her tongue into Octavia’s cunt and lapping, trying her hardest to please the woman above her. The woman that held her life in her hands.
“Mhmm, not bad for a rookie,” hummed Octavia, rustling Fleur’s hair in approval. “But you’re going to have to get better, and fast. Time is of the essence.”
Fleur tried her best, but she just had no clue if she was making any sort of progress. Octavia gave her few hints, barely a moan or a gasp. Every now and then, her tongue would reach especially deep, and Octavia would tug on her hair slightly, which Fleur took to mean that she was close. As the minutes ticked along, Fleur increased her efforts. She didn’t focus on what was happening, how Octavia was using her as a device for her own pleasure. All Fleur could concern herself with was finishing Octavia, so she could know some release herself.
“Fuck, yes, you’re doing something right,” purred Octavia. Her panting and moaning served as motivation for Fleur, who again doubled her efforts. She couldn’t move her tongue away from Octavia’s lower lips if she wanted to; Octavia had her hands around the back of Fleur’s head, pinning her there. Forcing Fleur to breathe in her essence, become as close to her cunt as humanly possible. And Fleur, to her credit, busted out all the stops. She lapped and suckled and licked until she could feel Octavia nearing orgasm. She suckled on Octavia’s clit, and soon gave her the pleasure she had been longing for for days.
Octavia’s orgasm was low, quiet, but forceful. Fleur could feel Octavia clench around her tongue as she let out one last, low, shuddering moan. She breathed heavily, finally pushing Fleur back and allowing her to gasp for air. Octavia sighed as her she relaxed in her orgasmic afterglow.
“Not half bad. Let’s check that time.” Octavia glanced at her watch and grinned a dastardly grin. “Ooh, 10:44, that’s a shame. You nearly had it. If you would’ve just gotten my trousers down quicker… Oh, well. I guess you don’t get to cum after all.”
Fleur became incensed, snarling at Octavia for her cruelty and unfairness. She spat on the floor, trying to get the taste of Octavia’s cunt out of her mouth, failing to do much more than amuse her captor.
“Well, this has been fun.” Octavia stood up and returned her pants to her waist. “But I’ve got to talk to your daddy about your new home. See you around, love.”
“No… No! You can’t leave me here like this!” shouted Fleur. “Come back here and get me off!” Octavia chuckled as she neared the door and turned out the lights. “Please!”
“Maybe next time, love.” Octavia cackled as she left Fleur, once again, horny and in the dark.
Fleur moaned as she worked her hips, rubbing her pussy against the dirty, rusty leg of the garage’s workbench. She had no clue how long had passed since Octavia had last visited, nor did she know how much longer she had to cum. She had been rubbing her pussy fruitlessly against any and every thing she could in an attempt to get herself on. She was so desperate for release, but nothing was working. She sobbed openly, her frustration mounting and melding with her fear of what Octavia would do to her when she found it. That wasn’t enough to deter Fleur, however, who felt as if her body was moving of its own accord.
Even as the door flew open and the lights came on, Fleur couldn’t stop rubbing her cunt against this disgusting pole. She moved quicker, hoping to at least cum once before Octavia came and punished her. Luckily for her, it seemed, Octavia was preoccupied.
“These things take time, you muppet, I can’t just snap my fingers and have the bitch broken,” said Octavia into her cellphone. “Yes, I know how long it’s been. This is why I didn’t give you a window, because I can’t say for sure how long… Christ almighty, man, do you want this done or not? Because the only way you’re sticking your prick in a Fleur dis Lee fuckdoll today is if she’s… Wait, what? Are you serious?”
Octavia’s eyes fell on Fleur, still fruitlessly trying to drive herself to orgasm. She raised her eyebrow, too surprised by sudden changes to particularly care about the blatant disobedience.
“Seriously? You’re not fucking with me? Because I’ll do it. Mh-hm. Well, you bastard, I could’ve done that last week! For fucks sake, way to waste my time. I’m charging you extra, savvy? Hm. Fine, pick her up in twenty minutes. Bring the money. Yeah, well, you’re clearly a fucking moron, so I thought I’d have to walk you through every fucking step of this simple fucking transaction! Hurry!”
Octavia hung up her phone and slipped it into her pocket. She shook her head as she approached the workbench, gathering what she’d need.
“Well, Miss Lee, I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” sighed Octavia. “Which do you want to hear first?”
“B-bad,” moaned Fleur, still failing to make herself cum. “F-fuck me, I just want to cum…”
“Well, the bad news is that the bloke who wanted to purchase you is getting a smidge impatient. He wants to fuck you now. Unfortunately, you’re nowhere near as broken as you should be. Luckily—well, it’s lucky for me, it’s the pits for you—I reached a compromise with my client. He’s going to pay me time and a half what he was going to before to fuck your corpse.” Octavia held up the noose she was tying to show it to Fleur. “So the bad news is that I’m going to kill you now.”
Fleur stopped what she was doing, her blood going cold in her veins. She dove onto her belly and squirmed away, as if she would somehow be able to outrun Octavia. She was caught easily, grabbed by the hair and dragged forward. She fought and thrashed for a bit, but was no match for Octavia’s strength.
Octavia dragged Fleur to the middle of the room, where here chair sat. She then scaled the chair and tied the noose to a beam in the ceiling, while Fleur sobbed beneath her. Octavia sighed, then pulled the crying model up to stand on the chair. She slipped the noose around Fleur’s neck and pulled it tight, then descended to stand beside her.
“Sorry, love. I wouldn’t normally kill you, but the bloke’s willing to pay,” said Octavia. Fleur let out a shudder, both from her tears and her unsatisfied arousal. “Ready for that good news?” Fleur let out a shaky, wobbly sob as she nodded. “The good news is I’m going to let you cum.”
Without warning, Octavia kicked the chair out from underneath Fleur, causing her to drop. The rope, tightly secured around her neck, constricted her throat and cut off her ability to breathe immediately. As she kicked and thrashed, begging for air, Octavia gently eased her fingers into Fleur’s cunt. She motioned in and out, pumping into Fleur’s dying body. It didn’t take long for Fleur to let out a moan, her body to tense as she came intensely, her face going blue from lack of oxygen. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, her eyes rolled back, as she twitched and thrashed, before finally going still. Octavia pulled her hand free of Fleur’s dead pussy and wiped it clean on her chest. She considered cutting Fleur down, but decided against it.
Fancy would like to see here like this when he came to pick up his product.
