It's always so convenient to come home and loosen with the one you care about the most. Ivy and Brooke are tired, but not too weakened to have a tiny joy. They embark smooching gently, both of them knowing it will lead to a night of eagerness.
But their make-out is battered by an intruder, muffled pistol in forearm, a bag of tricks in his palms. He knows Brooke somehow, but the connection isnТt clear. He eliminates a bottle of chloroform and compels Ivy to spill some on a cloth a place it over BrookeТs jaws, knocking her out. He wraps his bicep around IvyТs neck and knocks her out too, its lighter this way.
They awake some time afterwards, unwrapped to their lingerie, gags in their jaws, mitts strapped behind their backs. The intruder is an assassin sent by the mob, Brooke should never have torn up with the mob. But before he does them in, he is going to amend his tiny schedule. HeТs already received his money, what if he lets them go? What would they do? They would do ANYTHING he asked.
Their mitts still corded, Brooke pokes Ivy with a strap on dildo as she lays face down on the sofa, a test workout he explains before he can unbind them. He shifts Ivy over as Brooke proceeds boning her, his meatpipe alternating inbetween their mouthes as they inhale his stiffy deep.
Ivy and Brooke change, Ivy donning the strap on dildo as Brooke absorbs the assassinТs schlong. HeТs determined he must get a taste for himself, jealous of the fuck stick, perhaps. He drills Brooke for a while before letting her leap back onto the strap on dildo. They bang firm until both women jism, their cunts caressing.
He's blessed they could go out with a lil' arousal, his muffled pistol searching for a target. He was supposed to let them go, but heТs going to have a tiny joy very first. He binds them up downstairs, choking them again, arms corded behind them.
But their fates will not be determined by pistol or even by the assassin. He showcases them his Wheel of Misfortune, roll the arrow and prefer your method of death, whether you like it or not.
He rolls the wheel, expecting that it grounds on Уthroat cut,Ф but then again, thatТs not up to him. He flips. BAGGING!? He doesn't think thatТs highly joy, but you have to serve the desires of the wheel!
He takes hold of a plastic bag and wraps it around Ivy's head as she fights to breath, the plastic inching closer and closer as she asphyxiates. She dies lightly, this is his profession after all.
Brooke is up next, he makes her determine her own destiny, forcing her to flip the wheel. Dangling falls under the arrows direction.
In her garage he has well-prepped the stage of her doom, the noose packaged around her neck. He luved poking Brooke earlier, but he wants one more tiny taste. He paws her nub one last time, forcing her to spunk before pulling the cord and suspending the skimpy, yummy lady. She holds on for a few minutes, attempting to stand against the stress, but she falls will-less, flapping in her empty and calm garage.