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Chapter 3: The Warden’s Pet
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Chapter 5: Ballroom of Beasts
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... he sheer absurdity of my post-orgasmic sprint being cut short by a rain of armored goons, not even the fact that I was still dripping from at least three or four different sources.
No. It was the humming. The rich, twinkling little melody being piped through a nobleman’s puckered lips as he led me, shackled, barefoot, and half-glowing from my earlier debasement, through the upper levels of the prison.
His hips had a rhythm. Not a walk. Not even a strut. It was a fucking sashay, l ...
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