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She became famous across the galaxy for the scathing sassy observations she made about the inadequacies of men. Wagner wasn’t a fan. His opinion is that that the funniest thing she’s done in her career is fucking the helpless Palonae. With a green breeder’s scarf tied to her wrist, Cass is reminded that if she’s caught there’s going to be a lot more fucking in her future. “Keep your minds on the job, girls,” Klink interrupts. At the head of his cock I briefly, hungrily touch Tits’ lips, before making descending kisses back to the base of his shaft. I’m beginning to think that not one woman is going to spare the princess’s pussy until Twisted Elle, the lead singer of radical feminist punk band “Bitch Factory” takes to the stage. Like the others she’s in this year’s Runner uniform - a leotard, the color of the Aghara-Penthay sand, and loose camo gangbang pants in desert pattern. Army boots make it look much like a military battle dress. It’s modest compared to the Runner costume selected tits in most years, although not entirely without humiliation - the Runners are denied underwear so each woman has to show the outline of her nipples through the clinging thin fabric. Elle always seems so sexually aggressive I’d assumed some negative experience must have turned her against men, but she carries the white virgin scarf, as well as the red pleasure scarf indicating her new purpose will be to entertain men between the sheets. She’s also the first to carry the blue scarf, of a woman whose sexual preference is for other females. The gagging choices are barely out Wagner’s mouth before Elle is pulling the shoulder straps down over her arms. She gives a deliberate shrug as she shoves the costume down to her waist exposing anal rather childlike small breasts with unusually rose-pink areola. Twisted Elle used to be covered in tattoos like most of the girls in Bitch Factory, but the Slavers have withdrawn her right to self-expression during processing. The skin around her shoulders and arms has been restored to fresh cleanliness. There is only one mark permitted on her – the swirling pattern of the slave imprint on the side of her face. She’ll carry this for life even if she’s the winner. Oddly they’ve left her punk hair – spikes dyed a glowing blue shade. Perhaps the Slavers thought it necessary to keep her identifiable. Or perhaps they decided to leave it in case she’s caught, as it might please her owner to decide what to do with it. When Elle reveals her chest there is a roar of abusive shouts from the male audience. She is called a slut, a whore, and she’s mocked for her breasts being undersized. This doesn’t seem to faze her though, quite the opposite. She seems to like the hate. She even gives blowjob the auditorium crowd the galactic universal gesture of the middle finger, contempt all over her face. With Elle’s interview complete there’s only two Runners left. “Here comes your fellow citizen!” Klink taunts us, and we both look up. There she is. No longer recognizable as the Gaianesian White Queen I knew, a stunningly beautiful young blonde mounts the stage with a green breeders scarf and a blue lesbian indicator tied to her wrist. Her markings are in the vibrant dark brown of a Gaianesian female in her prime, and are barely obscured by the Aghara-Penthay slave tattoo. Swaying between her legs is the strap-on phallus, just like the other Runners had to wear. But White Queen is not deterred by the pendulous cock or the intimidating audience. Her eyes look alert and strong as she mounts the stage. The only flicker of uncertainty is when she sees naked Palonae with her rump sticking up in the air. “Ithya,” Wager greets her. “The galactic champion of female superiority. Are you feeling superior now, with a slave mark on your face and a control implant in your brain?” I’ve always known her as White Queen, and one forgets she must have had a different name. I was still nervous, tentative, and self-aware. She had a wild crazy needy look in her eyes and her mouth was gaping open, slobbered and glistening. I heard a little plop as Tabatha stepped off the bottom stair into the water and then there was the sound of gentle wash against the tiles as she started to swim. I tell Kitty that we will take the deal. “Daddy! anal It happened to me my first time here. Well, quite frankly, it’s the pristine views from the fairways and greens that are situated on gangbang various cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I start to fall asleep. I dropped the stethoscope and it hung from my ears. I wanted to be in her. For now, Phil’s mind was a battlefield of what to say. "Fuck, that's the spot!" “Well thank you Sarah I enjoy being here with you two girls and with June. I seem to vaguely remember some lady giving me a shot, then waking up here. Tears well up as blowjob you again think of how you will never again feel the press of my body against yours, or experience the beauty of my lazy smile as we bask in the afterglow of wild, animal fucking. It’s about a crossdressing sissy by an author called Winter Snow. Maggie dumped the rest of the grain in his bucket then turned, untying her baler twine belt and her baggy cutoffs dropped to the floor of the stall. Shortly after we got back to the bar the group moved on to the next bar. I felt his tits gagging checking my asshole and felt him inserting a little syringe with lubricant.