It wasn’t just the cold; it was fear, and hopelessness. She angrily brushed tears as she tried to stop crying.How long had she been a prisoner in th...s cold little room with nothing more than a narrow bed? She had no watch, and her phone? Who knew? He probably had it along with her clothes.She knew who ‘he’ was. He was Mr. Patil, maybe fifty years old and a sometime business partner of her father’s. He had told her as he beat her that he ‘owned’ her now and the sooner she came to terms with that. I gave the same sort of lustful looks to the three cockspointed in my direction. As I would have predicted from three suchmasculine looking men, their dicks were equally impressive and large,much more so than mine. In particular, the huge guy in the middle had athick manhood that looked like it could almost match that of Saskia, thebusty black tranny whore whose cock had been the first I sucked.Just as with that beautiful black meat, I was drawn in towards thesethree throbbing French cocks. I. More

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