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“I am Noah, the Wandering Spirit, and I think I speak on behalf of the crowds when I say that a win by default is in no way satisfying. These people deserve to watch a real fight. I’m sure Reiss is still on the premises. Give me the chance to find him.”

With that done, she stopped the recording, turned off the light and crept back to her room. No sooner was she under the covers did she pull up her phone and play the video back. Seeing herself again with her father’s load in her mouth and playing with it, her other hand dropped down to her soaking wet panties and started giving herself some attention. With the video playing on repeat it didn’t take long for her to find her own climax, and another, and perhaps a few more as she eventually nodded off.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.