Mandal’s art room. I think I’m feeling straight through to her folds. If they pleased the boys rather than torment them. She gags slightly, but obeys. (Stations of the Cross, Mr. Her feet lifting up off the floor, all her weight resting painfully on her belly pressed over the edge of the sink and her sputtering face pressed tightly down over the drain. But I notice something strange. I want the smell to be isolated in one area of the classroom. Instead I find her licking at the wrong hole! Defeated. Her feelings mean nothing to me as I take what I want, feel what I need to feel from her body. I grunt, my breathing as heavy as her’s is nonexistent. I thump on her back to help her get through her coughing spell and then leave her bent over the sink as it slowly drains of water. Aadya sobs with her face on the floor, buried under her mop of wet hair. The timer stops, the command successfully completed. She’s almost out of time, the countdown beeping loudly. Both women now working on each other’s pussies noisily. I find some with fat cylindrical wooden handles.
