I have a special drink planned for you later.” Heather said. The cruel twists of the initiation ritual have taken a devastating toll on the young girl’s psyche, and there seems no end to her torment in sight. Heather moaned in encouragement, her grip tightening in Meredith’s hair. “Let’s begin your special initiation.”
With a wicked grin, she made a subtle gesture to one of the football players, who stepped forward with a cruel laugh, the implication of their intentions hanging heavy in the air. Her taste buds exploded with the unfamiliar, pungent flavor of Heather’s arousal. “Eat my fucking cunt before I make you.” Heather said. Meredith looked up at Heather through half-lidded eyes, her gaze smoldering with a newfound lust as she worked her tongue deeper into Heather’s dripping folds. The men with cameras shifted their angles, determined to capture Meredith’s every reaction, every intimate detail of her degradation. Heather’s gaze was steady, almost expectant, as Meredith sat beside her on the couch.
