"Uhh! Ah! Ah! Ahh.....!? Ahh......ah! Oh, Oh, OH....It's......too much!!...UGhhhhhhh!?"
The blonde girl came back to me.
I was so happy. She was also happy to be back, opening her legs and making sweet noises.
I had been worried about her for a while, but no other butcher had taken her, and she was able to regain consciousness. Nothing could please me more.
"Oh, ...... oh, ...... not again! No! ......!!mmmmmmmmmmmm! Oh!? Ahh--......~~! --No!
So to celebrate, I changed my mind and humiliated her today.
It's been almost half a day since I started torturing her, and she's still like this. She is full of energy and gives me a ton of care. Her long blonde hair is spread out like a sheet, and she jiggles and wiggles under my arm the whole time she's being folded up and poured out in the normal position.
The secret is resting.
It sounds simple, but it worked like a charm.
After a long time, my fierce seeding was over.
Then the tension that she had been holding in through clenched teeth left her body, and she fell limply to the cold floor.
The hot cum spurted out from the gap between her loosened slit.
Normally, I would start fucking her again, but not today.
"Haa...... haa...... haa-- haa......."
*Slooch*. I pull the butcher lance out of the blonde girl's vagina.
With a *plop* and a *tap-tap-tap*, semen splashed onto her white body, and she caught it on her face with a heated breath.
I stood up and slumped. I felt like a bear as I wandered around the prison. It was as if I was observing her figure as she lay on the cold floor in a 360-degree circle.
Every woman I've ever fucked has turned into a stuffed animal after a full day of my torment. But this blonde girl, I clearly remember her showing me a small glimpse of her mind the other day.
Even in the intervals of the beastly assault afterward, I could see a glimmer of will in her eyes.
That's why today I held her like this, resting and holding her as she recovered her strength. I wanted her to stay with me for a little longer.
When I think about it, even professional athletes have to take a half-time in their games. No matter how long it was, it must have been hard to go through the whole game. Since I became a butcher, my standards of physical strength seem to have gotten out of sync.
I was right.
She was clearly enjoying my rape longer than the other day. If things continue like this, she'll be able to enjoy it fresh until the end, not just one whole day, but two whole days. I'm sure she'll be happy about that. I want to pour pleasure into her until her brain cells are burned out.
After all, this woman is strangely strong and tough - inside and outside.
The blonde girl is a rare talent with a different set of skills than the girl in the cell. My professional eye discovered her rarity.
She is a gem that could be my masterpiece. She is a diamond in the rough. I have to polish it well. I must polish it well with my own mara, which is currently as hard as it gets.
Besides, there's one important thing I want to make sure about her.
--Something very important.
This new routine is a stepping stone to that as well.
As soon as the blonde's breathing calms down, I pull her arm to stand her up. She doesn't resist anymore. I think she has come to understand that I am a precious being who gives her pleasure, not pain.
I pushed the woman against the bars from behind.
The blonde woman grabbed the bars with a crunching sound. Then she presented me with a beautiful white peach buttock without a single stain.
It's an incredible attraction. Any male would be drawn to it.
I had her in standing back position and matched the butcher lance, which burned red with desire, to the crack of her plump buttocks.
"Ha, ...... ha, ha, ha."
The blond hair hanging down her back tensed. She gripped the bars tightly and her breathing quickened.
But I didn't care, I slid the big glans up and down to find out where the opening was and screwed it in with a single breath.
"Hgh! ......nnnngh! Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh! Hahi--"
Her slick, white roundness is being penetrated by an unholy, green, veiny stick. My heart flutters at the blasphemous sight.
I haven't used her cervix once today.
She accepted me with open arms, so I also treated her kindly. She seemed to understand that, too. Wonderful. This is also communication. Through skin-to-skin contact, she and I are able to communicate with each other.
That feeling of satisfaction kept my animal urges at bay.
The grate rattles as I shake it.
I pressed against the slick, gurgling folds of her flesh and gently poked her from behind, grabbing her breasts from behind, which were twisted between the bars.
I rub her breasts gently with the palms of my hands, trying not to use my fingernails.
"Huh."
I could feel the plump fat that had been distorted in my hand spilling out between my fingers. I continued to stroke the surface, stimulating the plump nipples between my fingers.
I also put my hand underneath her breast as a bra to prevent it from being painfully jiggled by my heavy thrusts. It's a very clever move for a butcher.
"Ha!?♡ ...... ♡ ...... ♡♡♡! --Ahh! Ahh! No. ......! Ohhh!? ---- ahhh! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh--oh!
The tone of her cries changed.
The blonde seems to enjoy having her tits squeezed, especially when her nipples are being played with from behind. I could feel the hot, fresh sticky fluid being soaked up and filled her honey pot.
Her outpourings of vaginal fluids even trickled and dripped down to my testicles.
I felt her hand gripping the bars with a tight grip. She was shaking her hair and clinging desperately to me as she was rocked by my pumping motion.
"Ohhhh!" "Ohhhh!" "Ohhhh!" "Ohhhh--" "......"
Her nipples are so weak that I have to be careful not to crush or cut them, but it's worth it when she squirms like this.
I'm not sure why I'm so obsessed with holding a girl. I think it's because of the way we communicate.
Sex is communication without words. It is a primitive conversation in which mutual understanding can be established simply by rubbing our bodies against each other and our membranes against each other.
I think you can understand why I, a lonely person, am so addicted to it. I think I might be addicted to sex.
The blonde hair swaying with the thrusting motion. The beautiful nape of her neck peeked out in between. I reached out my tongue and flicked it up and down, and she immediately had an orgasm.
"!?? Ah, ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh...... --Nnnnnn--!!"
The two buttocks contracted, squeezing my root from side to side.
The blonde clenched the bars so tightly that her fingers turned white and her legs shook repeatedly before she collapsed weakly.
I shot my load as she climaxed, but more than half of it landed on her back and shoulders as she collapsed into a sitting position.
I squeezed out the rest myself and sprinkled it all over her blonde hair.
We take another break.
After the bars, it's time to go to the ...... wall. The wall is our destination.
Every time I take a break, I change my position and where I hold her.
This was very important to disguise the watchful eyes behind the mirror.
Yesterday, when I first started this new style, every time I gave the blonde a break, I would get a loud command in my head to fuck her more, fuck her faster.
But I ignored them, and after repeating this style for a while, the watchers seemed to have understood that I had changed my way of holding women, and they didn't complain anymore.
I guess the aliens' perception of me as an oddball butcher had a positive effect on them. That must have been the least of their concerns. My usually good behavior was put into good use. I was lucky.
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