3D Comic: The Chaperone. Episode 45

“Choose” he commanded. “I will need your decision when they finish”. The dance proceeded faultlessly, although the women must have heard everything, and Carissa soon found herself appreciating their artistry and skill for its own sake, forgetting the bizarre burden placed upon her. Each young woman was a remarkable beauty in her own way; two of them were raven-haired and olive-skinned daughters of the mountains, one with the aquiline cumshot nose of the highlands and the other, more full-figured girl with the deep blue eyes of the original Svitavians. The third dancer was an oriental girl whose fine, black hair brushed over her tiny breasts and delicate shoulders when she span around, dipping and bowing according to the ancient patterns of the dance. Suddenly, Carissa found herself picturing this girl screaming in the grip of her death spasm and realised that her choice had been made. She watched the rest of the dance with mounting excitement. The sun was setting behind the hills above big the convent, the swirling shashkas glinted red and orange while the girls turned and twisted, and the music wove its spell. The drums beat faster and faster as the strings built a crescendo; the three girls fell to their knees before Dmitri with their slim bodies arched from the floor towards him, their arms flung back, and their legs spread in surrender. The climactic chord was sustained while three trembling forms waited in an agony of expectation, and Dmitri turned his huge, shaggy head to Carissa with a questioning look. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and responded. “That one” she said in a clear and steady voice. The oriental woman moaned faintly as she glided from her position on the floor to kneel upright with her tiny wrists crossed behind her back and her slender neck extended and exposed. “And you must do it” Carissa went on, smiling at the nearer of the other dancers. The girl bit her lip and, with an effort, suppressed the quiver that ran down her spine; she then floated to her toes, lifting her shining blade high, and the dance drew to its fatal conclusion. With well-practiced and elegant steps her companion moved behind the chosen one to cradle her head in both hands, supporting her weight as she leant back and offered her throat to the blade, facing the ceiling with her lithe body bent backward like a bow. All eyes turned to Dmitri, who stared beyond everyone into some pale distance at the back of the room. No one breathed until he nodded. The Oriental sang out “The Pallid Mask!” and the sword sliced effortlessly into outstretched sinew and flesh, parted vertebrae, and sent a great pulse of arterial blood pumping into the air to spatter over the floor. The headless body hung in the air for an impossible moment, still arched in its posture of willing sacrifice before a twitching seized the limbs and they fell thrashing to the carpet. The blue-eyed girl never moved a muscle; she was left holding the cleanly severed head, looking down into an ecstatic face. The executioner gathered her victim’s sword from where it lay discarded and she and her companion, who carried the dripping head by its teens hair, bowed deeply before traipsing from the room as daintily as they had arrived. Carissa saw that Dmitri had slipped his trousers down and he stepped out of them with his cock swinging before him. “Is she wet?” he asked abruptly, and Carissa hurried over to the corpse to press searching fingers into blowjob the cunt. “Very wet, Dmitri” she confirmed, arranging the limp thighs to receive him. “Then roll her over. And lift her up onto her knees”. Blood seeped from the severed neck as she hurried to comply, presenting the body for sodomy and moving aside only when satisfied that the arse was offered up properly on knees and headless shoulders. Wide-eyed and panting with arousal, Carissa watched enviously as teen he stabbed hard flesh deep into the warm bowels, growling and grimacing at the tightness. She kept her own hands obediently behind her back while he bucked and rolled over his victim, but she could not restrain the trickle of moisture which ran down her inner thigh when her thoughts turned, inevitably, to the long and bittersweet servitude she must endure before her own time came. His thrusts became longer and slower until finally he knelt still and upright and his piercing gaze focussed on the room around him once more. This way he could document any potential theft or property damage. It dueled and teased her. Then their mouths met in a blowjob cum-filled kiss. Neville did not, in fact, need twenty minutes, he was done in something teens more like four, shooting in her in due order. The lace teen French cut panties were already soaked. “Oh yeah,” I grinned. “You know it!” she moaned. “Bastard.” I thought cumshot as I started to cum. Julie moves in closer and tells me to lift up your legs. And hands kept feeling him, and feeling him, big and feeling him.