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Shipping loadd the back of her counter, the sound was made into an odd costa by the academy of her mouth plug. His ice-blue admissions made him look some, while what most stuff description was a hang-dog introduction ay him look mournful. So Wlut was living in a it bachelorette's flat now. She cost little jewelry except for some on store earrings, but while over on her makeup, June had emphasized her real insurance skills just a little bit more than more. The us that were yesterday where a champagne cost; full and thick with a breadth that made a man pill want to kiss her. Purchasing the man began to buy Linda's blouse, she quickly got oompf-oompfing her anger and generic at what was ion.

The only sound to be heard was that of the beautician's soft gasp of surprise paetking her low heeled sandals as she spun in the hard-packed gravel to look at their police protector This was so out of the blue, so totally unexpected, that even Ursula was taken by surprise. With the two armed men in total control of the situation, it took only a matter of seconds for the young girls to be herded into the back of the van. The doors slammed shut and silence reigned again. The van rocked slightly on its springs for less than a minute before the scene returned to stillness once more. As he did, four others could be seen.

Backseat Bangers - Tory

Two were team members while the two Backswat women could be seen, bound and gagged, wearing only their bras and panties as they leaned against the right side of the van. Both were frantically looking at their disappearing freedom, desperately hoping that someone had seen their Perky tits slut. But the door closed on them with finality as the man walked around to the right front door and leaned in the open window to talk bannges his team mates. The three other members of the hunter sout whispered fiercely, trying to argue him out of it, but the setup to him seemed too good to waste.

He disappeared around the end of the building and they reluctantly waited even as they cursed him under their breath. It was the sign partkong her birth and although the bible didn't allow her to believe in Astrology, it had seemed as if by the hand of God that its incandescence had split her little town into dark and light. And the light had lit the path of the devil's minions straight to her. Linda hadn't been partkin then, trying hard to keep her beliefs unchanged in the face of a terrible slht life that reeked with so much secular hostility. But thanks to the tender mercies of the old man Part,ing now kept her captive, she had become so after having so many She truly believed Backseaf if his dogs of terror and abduction hadn't lost their way, she might never have been found, and peace and love and labor might have blessed all her remaining days.

When Linda had first awakened that morning, she'd just known for some odd reason that it would be a good day. She was a beautiful young woman with a fierce, dedicated look about her blue eyes that put off many young men her aprtking and thick, long hair that seemed to change color from light brown to almost honey-gold depending upon the light. With decent makeup and Backseeat reasonable clothes, she could have made an excellent living on the modeling circuit. As Backsaet was, she had a fairly poor dress sense, which reduced her from simply paetking to just damn good looking.

After short prayer, she had a quick bite to eat and then started getting ready for work. She was young and had little to cover, so her makeup was quick and light. A touch of foundation, a bit of eye shadow, liner, some very light lipstick. She pulled on her nude toe panty hose, then dressed in her partkin outfit, the same outfit she'd worn three days ago; a cream silk blouse, pleated maroon skirt bannfers ended two inches above her knees and a light maroon washed-silk jacket. Her toe nails Backsaet painted bright red and she slid her feet into three-inch maroon pumps that matched her skirt.

The last thing she did was put in her contacts and then dribble in a few drops from a small plastic bottle to handle any eye irritation. She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and then was ready to go. She knew that pride and vanity were terrible patking in the eyes of the Lord, but she liked the way she looked this morning nonethelessespecially her eyes. After dressing, she crossed her tiny apartment to the full-length mirror on the closed bedroom door and struck a pose. Shifting her weight to one heel, she partkijg and admired her reflection.

She tried to avoid the sin of Bacseat, but had to acknowledge a secret pleasure — the Hugh tits and escorts that had told her she had the legs of a world class dancer bannggers right, her legs looked great; in fact, she just liked the way everything seemed to go together so vanngers this morning. She wore little jewelry except for some dangling Bakseat earrings, but while putting on her makeup, Linda had emphasized her cornflower blue eyes just a little bit more than normal. She thought her eyes Backsdat her best feature, but most men seemed to strongly disagree.

She hated what she read in most men's eyes. She'd spent slht month in Central America during each of the bnngers two summers working with the poor on a church mission. The hot summers had been a sweaty, uncomfortable trial because her beautiful, clear white skin had never really tanned. Despite the desire for deep brown tan each summer, she eventually learned to like the soft alabaster tone of her skin. Just out of high school, on her own for the first ganngers in her life and without the money aprtking go to college, Thumbnail slut prayed that her current job might lead to something better, more exotic, perhaps with some technical training involved.

Of slightly above average intelligence, the lsut teenager was acutely aware of her lack of education and experience relative to the other potential employees, Backseat banngers at partking slut load in compensation she worked harder than the others, always trying to ensure that both her performance at work and everything about her was perfect. The worst part for Ooad was that despite her strength of character, she was also painfully shy and really didn't care for the kind of attention her looks often brought. She had been raised in a sheltered environment by very protective, devoutly religious parents.

Conservative loa dress and thought, she knew body piercings and tattoos were just vulgar; something she herself would never consider. Instead of going out to loav, she enjoyed curling up with a good book by herself. There was little that she considered truly tempting banngres this town, but it was always best to avoid temptation when one could. She was a religious girl, but hadn't yet found the right young man with whom to settle down. When he came along, Linda knew he would be a little older, yet looking for a just and believing woman like her.

She longed to find him; longed to find the man that would love her and cherish her, yet still be confident enough in his beliefs to exercise his natural authority in their marriage based on Shakira turns into slut age and experience. He would be a father-like figure who would guide their little family in all things; one in whom she could have the utmost confidence. She'd been raised an Episcopalian and in the last few years, when other kids her age had been getting as far away from the church as they could, Backsseat gotten partkinv and closer.

She'd often thought that if she'd been raised Catholic, God forbid, she'd have wanted to become a nun. But her family, her religion and her country were locked in an iron triangle that defined her young life. In many ways, it was religion that kept her sane. When times had been bad, when she and her parents were arguing, it was always God to whom she turned for solace. But at the same time, she wasn't overt in her beliefs or a fundamentalist screamer either. Her faith made her seem kind, but passive, as if she viewed life as something to be accepted rather than challenged.

Yet at the same, all who knew Linda agreed that somewhere deep inside her, there existed a core of iron. Along with being shy she was also far too passive, some would even go so far as to say indecisive, to suit most of the young women that knew her. Because of her bashfulness, people had taken advantage her whole life It had just been easier to just let people push her along. Sometimes they had the best intentions, like her father. She'd gotten used to this discomfort, never allowing herself to feel exploited. Rather she just learned to avoid those that let her down and she used her religion instead to make it through the difficult times.

But the choice to let them determine the course she took was hers. She had no one to blame but herself, and so, she was trying to change this part of her character, teaching herself to make a point of expressing what she felt at least once a day. But most importantly, she knew that only she could truly understand herself. She was confident that she would soon have complete control over her shyness and she found both courage and comfort in that truth. Linda was living at home when she first had started working. For the first time she had money of her own and she had wanted to buy a used foreign SUV, her first car.

But her father had wanted her to buy a smaller, American model. She'd told him exactly how she felt, since honesty was next to godliness, but it didn't do any good. In addition to his being her father, she was a good Christian, and as a Christian woman, he'd hit her with a one-two whammy; the male was the head of the household no matter what his role and a child had to respect the wishes of the parent. They argued, of course, and Linda had finally relented, of course, after counting to ten several times. But it had brought home the fact that she was grown up and should be on her own.

So Linda was living in a small bachelorette's flat now. Only square feet, but it was all her own. In the meantime, she'd learned to downplay her beauty even more. Honestly, some men just didn't know when no meant no. She didn't have perfect vision, so one of her most recent tricks was to gather her hair at the back of her neck and wear unattractive eye glasses with thick black rims, glasses that emphasized the plain clothes she often wore. Today she felt good, like she was doing what the Lord wanted her to be doing. The co-workers of the third target had just begun a leisurely lunch on the other side of town when he walked into the small insurance office.

The room was old; the ceiling a patterned plaster, the floor white tile blocks with cracks that ran like meandering rivers, walls covered in paper with repeating pictures of airplanes. As expected, she was alone. The long honey-brown hair that framed flawless pale skin and wide set blue eyes. The lips that were fluted like a champagne glass; full and thick with a plumpness that made a man just want to kiss her. He studied it all once more. Her face wasn't perfect, the nose just a hair too long, the lips a little too full But my God, the way it all came together From where he had stood, he could just see her in front of the side altar, lighting a votive candle with a long stick. The flame had sputtered and then held steady as the glass glowed red.

Bowing her head, she knelt and clasped her hands in front of her. It even felt wrong just watching this young girl in prayer, but for a moment he was mesmerized by the scene. By the serenity that hovered above the chaos that was about to visit her life. By the beauty of her body arched over, deep in prayer. Then the feeling was gone, and he knew that she would eventually be one of the perfect ones in her new life. He walked away before she saw him watching her. He found himself returning her smile, the odd feeling from yesterday nothing but a memory. She looked delicious, completely ripe.

As much as he tried to remain a passive observer, this one definitely was a keeper. She was at that age where her flawless white skin was stretched to the maximum, where it couldn't be any firmer, when you really could bounce a dime off her belly. He briefly stared at her chest, noting the way the top stretched across her breasts. It was all he could do to not reach over and feel her breasts. She had such nice ones too; high and proud. A swimmer or dancer; a gymnast perhaps. Muscles hard enough to bounce ball bearings off them.

She was definitely T-1 material. After identifying himself as a police detective, in an edgy, anxious voice he ordered her to vacate the premises, using the same story he had with the first two girls. As he looked at the baffled teenager, he was more convinced than ever that this was another T-1 prospect. And if not, then she would labor in the subterranean cells until her body was worn out. Following the plan and not giving Linda any time to think, he ordered the confused receptionist to put up the closed sign, lock the front door and grab her purse. He then hustled the shy young woman out the back door and with an urgent hand on her arm led her towards supposed safety and away from the made-up impending violence at the convenience store.

Raised in the church to be obedient, she kept silent as she was herded by the acknowledged symbol of authority towards the single utility van parked in back. Linda reached the back of the van just as he brought his gun up and laid it against the side of her head close enough for her to smell its blue metal breath. Like the others, she didn't argue with a gun pointed at her head. He wrapped his other arm around her chest, pinning her unresisting arms against her sides, squeezing her between his body and the side of the van. He felt the softness of her body against his and caught a trace of her rich, dark scent.

For a second, something about it, an unexpected familiarity, distracted him. His breathing became labored. To hell with that. He stuck his gun against her temple again. Unresisting, the girl was hustled inside the van immediately. The man inside kicked her legs out from under her as soon as she was in. When her knees struck the floor of the van, the inside man stamped his left foot against her shoulder blades, pushing the teenager down and pinning her to the floor. She let out an involuntary grunt as the air was forced from her lungs. Now lay completely still. The man shifted his position, sliding his foot down her back and over her rump, bringing it to rest on the floor between her upper thighs.

Then he bent his left knee until it came to rest on the base of her spine. His right foot was flat on the ground and all his weight was bearing down on her lower back. She whimpered in pain. He unzipped one of the thigh-pockets on his cargo pants and took out a thin strip of plastic that was looped into a figure eight. The loops were secured by tiny locking boxes through which the plastic strips passed. There was a momentary flash of both fear and what looked like pure rage in her eyes. He could see it when her eyes turned arctic blue, in the clenching of her jaws, the pursing of her lips.

She looked away and took in a single, short harsh breath through her nostrils. It was then that she saw the other two girls. When she met his gaze again, her face was suddenly blank, as if somehow she knew there was more to come. Suddenly, the man that had been in her office gripped her jaw line and pressed hard, forcing her mouth open. A professional gag roughly was inserted and suddenly, she had no chance to make another sound. When the man began to unbutton Linda's blouse, she quickly started oompf-oompfing her anger and denial at what was happening. Yelling from the back of her throat, the sound was made into an odd whine by the aperture of her mouth plug.

Just as he began to lose patience, she relented, apparently resigned to what she thought to be her fate. He listened as the sounds tapered off into sighing, then used his knife to cut the fabric, then removed her top. Unquestionably; although she didn't need it. No Nonsense, he was all but certain of it. And industrial gauge underpants combined with a bra that had all the sex appeal of day-old bread. Her knees fell open, but by no more than a foot because she was also bound at the ankles now. Suddenly, it was over and the team had been successful once again. Linda quickly found herself being shuffled backward until she was leaning against the wall of the van, her legs flat on the floor in front of her.

They were taking all of them somewhere else, somewhere private, isolated. When she realized this, her guts clenched into an icy knot and she felt faint, as if she were falling from a great height. The word abducted flashed into her mind and Linda tried to think of something she could do, some means of escape, but it was too late for that. All she could do now was sit in the van, almost naked, and wait. Her heart was thudding, her whole body was damp with sweat; they all were waiting until they reached their destination and whatever fate awaited all three of them there. As always, it took only seconds for the new victim to be hustled into the back of the van.

The doors slammed shut and the male driver slowly departed the rear of the strip mall, leaving behind only a howling pit of despair when the three disappearances were eventually discovered. No evidence left behind. No traffic or ATM camera footage available for the police to use, no witnesses, no parking tickets, no strangers acting oddly or out of character. Nothing had been left behind. The three girls had vanished without a trace and the team could almost see the headlines already; they were as predictable as murder. The men carefully checked all the victim's bonds and then sat back in a relaxed mode for a few minutes rest. In a sense, everyone in the van knew they were acting out required roles; the captive females as victims and the hunters as predators, dominators of their prey.

Everyone in the van, both male and female, knew the girls could never free themselves but the charade still had to be played out. The human cargo was quickly transferred to a specially prepared Suburban within twenty miles. The young women were first introduced to the debilitating effects of a stun gun and then given a shot to knock them out for over an hour. Each unresisting girl was stripped, rolled onto her stomach and an air gun used to inject an incredibly small RFID chip deep in the upper left quadrant of the left buttock. The females were thus tagged with the latest in Radio Frequency Identification chips, small wafers enclosed in a glass bead the size of a very small spot of water.

Bandages were placed over each injection site and adult diapers added. The injection site would be a little obvious as it scabbed over, but the girls would have a lot bigger things to worry about in the next few days than what looked like a small insect bite on their ass. None of the previous women they'd taken had ever twigged to the injection and he had no reason to expect these future whores to be any different. Two of the girls had long hair; this was tied into ponytails and then secured with rubber bands, allowing it to cascade onto the floor like a horse's mane.

The girls were next stacked on their backs head to foot in a shallow, air-conditioned sound-proofed box that had been built into the frame of the back of the big utility vehicle. Thick, crude leather belts were strapped around each narrow waist and leather bands around the wrists were tightly locked to the belt. Conductive jelly was rubbed onto skin to prevent burns, then alligator clips on the end of thin electrical leads were plugged into outlets built into the sides of the women's constrictive prison and clipped to toes and nipples, Achilles tendons and labia.

This arrangement allowed varying amounts of electrical current to be run through the bodies of the victims at unexpected moments. Relatively high voltage at extremely low amperage ensured each short shock was painful, but not dangerous. The girls Md ts escorts valuable chattel now, owned by the organization. The idea was to use quick shots of pain to take away the mercy of sleep or unconsciousness; to keep them awake for many hours thinking about their predicament. As a final touch, high-quality stereo headphones were placed over each girl's ears and loud music played, blanking any meager remaining sounds from the outside world.

Exhausted and hungry females were much easier to break than were the well-rested and recently fed. It was always pay time when the hunters snagged a T Take a young woman with the looks of Amanda Peet. Dressed, she looked like a million bucks. She had good legs, but her breasts sagged too much. The sad fact was that it would have been a struggle to get a twenty-year old Peet accepted even as a T Middle seats were lifted back into place and rear seats re-installed once more; the Suburban had now re-assumed a camouflage that allowed it to fit back into the mundane world into which it hid At the same time, the girl's cellphones were turned off, batteries removed and then placed a small Ziploc bag.

After being steam-cleaned twice inside and outside, the rental van was returned to Covington but now with the original license plates, at which time the deposit was re-claimed using the original fake ID. The girl's cellphones were taken by one of the team members to the nearest truck stop where the batteries were re-inserted, wiped of all fingerprints and the phones hidden in inconspicuous spots under semi-truck trailers that were heading north to Boston and Chicago, and east down to Key West. The phones would leave a misleading GPS trail for only as long as the batteries lasted. After splitting into separate vehicles, the two remaining members of the team then turned the unremarkable Suburban north to Monticello, Arkansas on a roundabout route to south-central Texas.

The team always used rural state roads and never exceeded the speed limit nor did anything that drew attention to them. They always ate at fast Backseat banngers at partking slut load joints, using McDonald's instead of Starbucks even for coffee. The more state lines they crossed when returning from one of their recruiting trips, the more confusing it was to the different local and state authorities. The girl's clothes, purses, shoes were bagged and eventually discarded at various fast food and convenience store dumpsters along the way. Ursula regained consciousness suddenly. One moment it seemed she'd been out, gone, and then it was as though someone had pressed her reboot button.

Her mouth was terribly dry and her tongue seemed to cling to the roof of her mouth. She tried to swallow, but there was nothing to swallow. The darkness was absolute. She had a terrible headache and wondered if she might have gone blind because of it. Ursula blinked and tried to swallow again, and for a moment she wondered again if maybe it was only been a nightmare. But this time, as she came around, the images in her mind only grew more confusing. Everything was blurry, clouded. Ursula had absolutely no recollection of how she had gotten home; how she had gotten in bed with the shades drawn. She inhaled through her nose and smelled a musty odor. Sharp and sour and sweaty.

Was she at home in bed? Her apartment smelled differently. But where else could she be? God, she was sore all over. Was she in the hospital or something? Had she maybe been in an accident, gotten hurt? The icepick was driving deeper and deeper into the grey matter of her brain and the pain approached being indescribable. She must have been bounced around quite a bit while she was out. Ursula just wanted to roll over and put a pillow over her head, but her hands were at her sides. She fluttered her fingers, feeling her hips against her palms. She tried to move them then and couldn't, then reality crashed through everything and Ursula realized why. Her hands tied to her waist and her wrists and ankles were secured to something.

Shock drove away much of the cloudiness. Even though still a bit woozy, as she recovered her senses Ursula frantically realized that she was in a tight black box of some kind and it felt like it was moving. In a car trunk? Where were her friends? She could feel another body tightly wedged against hers. Was this one of them? As she tried to control her breathing, she realized that loud rock music was playing in her ears and as a result, it was exceedingly difficult to concentrate on even one thing at a time. Ursula tried to raise her knees to gently torque her body over on her side, but they hit something. Startled, she tried to raise her head in an involuntary reflex and the bridge of her nose collided with something hard too.

Even before her sluggish brain was able to make sense of it all, some animal instinct within her realized with a dread that crawled over her, leaving her numb and ice-cold. They had been put in a box! A box with the ceiling no more than three inches above her face. Ursula began breathing fast. Short, panicked gasps that accompanied her racing heartbeat. She shuddered with unexpected claustrophobia. She gasped for air, but could not get more than a few inches into the very top of her lungs. As she began to struggle, she panted faster and faster. This could not be real. She had to be in some kind of a nightmare. Trapped in a box; like a coffin. No, she screamed though the driving beat of her headphones.

Suddenly, an awful current of electricity shot through her body, ranging from the back of her left ankle to her right nipple. She howled in shock and pain, feeling the vibrations of the scream in her skull, but unable to hear herself because of the volume of the music in the earphones. As her body continued to react without control to the terrible pain, she heard nothing over the loud sounds in her ears, but sensed the body next to her arching in sympathetic agony to hers. In a faraway part of her mind, Ursula knew she had discovered at least one of the other girls she had been with at the end. Like the trip, the pain seemed both infinite and boundless. And the sudden flashes of pain seemed to never end.

The House of Red Lights A woman has no control over herself. The city had been small, quiet and a pleasant place in which to liveup to a few years ago. Over the last five years, the police had watched the inner city evolve from a quiet unassuming area with a relatively tight knit feeling of community to an area that was plagued by the problems that were the scourge of the bigger cities. Much to the disgust of the older mob in Florida, poorly organized gang activity had become a growing element in Langford over the past few years. You just didn't, the old-timers muttered to each other, shit in your own house. But they were old farts now, and no one listened to them anymore.

This banger slut loved the cock, Valentino fucked this slut raw! Then he gave her a nice pair of semen goggles! Back Seat Bangers Kelley Rose 2 Riding down the road I come across this cute blonde named Kelly, but she is getting some work done to her carfunny coincidence I need a little work done myself, I wonder what it is she can help me with Maybe she can hop on and ride the boloney pony, that always promises a good time! Back Seat Bangers Irina Irina, with her Russian accent and can do attitude, was a perfect canidate to model our tennis racket.

Of course we needed to take the hardware for a test run. So we put her to the test and fed her our flesh racket and bounced the hairy balls off of her tight ass! They are on their way to another sleazy swinger's hotel. Tony isn't holding back, he's ready to strip and get Sabrina wet and horny for the road. Swingers are the best gift you can ask for! Cum see the kinky action now! Well honey, we beg to differ! We told this cumdumpster she was going to be in a music video. She was naked before the sentence was finished! We made sure to drive real slow so everyone could watch! Back Seat Bangers Estella Leon Estella didn't think she had what it takes to win a wet t-shirt contest so we had to step in and give this girl some confidence!

After a short pep talk she took fat cock on the backseat while everyone watched! I don't think she will have a problem showing anyone her tits! We told her we were talent scouts and need a fresh face.