"Well, what?", she suddenly barks. " The Master's cum," you whisper. "That's right," she says. "And what do you think I should do with it?", now giggling. "Please let me take it," you whisper, hoping your reply is correct. "Good boy!", she laughs. "And because we have the very best Master in the whole world, he's going to allow it," gasping now because the man has found her cunt lips with his finger and is lightly stroking her. "What do you say, my husband?" "Thank you, Master," once again bowing your head, glimpsing your boyish tool betraying your excitement.Imagine the Master, standing before you, his powerful arms folded across his massive chest, his red engorged tool pointing at you like an accusatory finger, shaming you for your passions. He sneers through clenched teeth, "Stand up," and you do, disbelieving that you have found yourself alive in one of your masturbatory fantasies. Imagine standing before him, hands at your sides, head bowed, as your wife kneels beside him in her. Nine of the 20 men were dead or dying and Joseph’s group had barely broken stride.The lash of a whip caught Julia on the arm and her crossbow fell to the ground. She yelled partly in pain and partly in anger as she pulled her staff from behind her back and charged forward.Joseph saw red when he heard Julia’s scream and raced toward the man with the whip. He found him with Julia’s dagger sticking from his throat and turned his attention to the nearest man. The overseer was standing without a weapon, a look of shock on his face, but he died just the same.Genrico chased down the last man, who had broken not toward the church but toward the harbor, and rammed his sword through the man’s back.Inside the church, the last overseer was having little success in convincing a young novitiate to summon the vicar from his morning meditations. The young man knew the form of those meditations, although the overseer did not, and was reluctant to head toward the back of the house.“Your men have.
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