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My penis was completely hard now. I watched her walk toward me, trying to memorize her body and face so I could masturbate later. To my surprise she stopped a few feet away from me and took her small backpack of and set it on a stump. She stretched and raised her arms above her head. I could see some sweat had soaked into her shirt under her arms. She then walked around a little looking in the woods. My heart pounded as she seemed to look right at me, but then she looked away. She bent over her pack and took out a water bottle and took a deep drink. She took some Kleenex out of her pocket and looked about. She took a few steps off the path and looked up and down the path before undoing her belt and pulling down her shorts and panties. My penis surged as I saw the white panties come down her legs. I saw she had a bush of dark pubic hair which stood out against her un-tanned hips. She squatted again looking up and down the path for anybody who might appear. I could her stream of urine. To make matters worse, he rolled right over and was soon asleep, knocked out by the champagne.Well that was certainly underwhelming. She thought to herself, before wandering out of the room.She headed downstairs to the pool, where she found one of the senior girls who was sitting alone, drinking from a bottle of champagne.“Mind if I join you?” Christie asked.The girl smiled at her and patted the chaise she was sitting on, and Christie sat down next to her. The girl wordlessly passed her the bottle, and Christie took a large drink.“I figured you’d be with Mike.” “I was, but I guess he drank too much.”The girl laughed mirthlessly.“What, he couldn’t give you his patented ‘60 seconds of pleasure’?”Christie gaped at her, too stunned to speak.Noting her expression, the older girl chuckled and took the bottle from her.“We call him ‘the inchworm’, and I don’t have to tell you why.” She took a long pull from the bottle.“How …. What ….” Christie was too confused to figure things out.The.
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When he had completely disrobed except for his fine stockings, I tied his wrists to one another with the sword belt which I then looped it over the stub of a low limb."Do you know what your hired henchmen do to prisoners?" I asked him.He shook his head and lost control of his bladder."Ah," I said as the stream of urine continued, splashing on his dancing feet, "I think maybe you do. They use them for bayonet practice and eventually nail them to the trees they are tied to. They do it for fun and out of meanness and because you told them that we do not grant quarter."The fair-haired boy shook his head, wide-eyed. "Please don't," he said."Why not?" I asked, fixing my bayonet to my musket, feeling its edge and pursing my lips. I pulled out a small whetstone and made a show of sharpening the blade, testing it with my thumb. Blade bayonets were so rare that I doubt he had ever seen one before."I'll give you money," he said."How much?" I asked."A hundred pounds," he suggested, his lower lip.

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