God knelt before them, her fear betraying her defiant façade as she quivered under their gaze. She was wearing an all-black leather one-piece that clung to her body tightly, accentuating the bust of her chest and the thickness of her ass. XXX “Hello, God,” Dorian said with a cruel smile, “Do you remember me?”
“Dorian Bronson, torturer in the tower of London,” God said, her voice wavering, “I remember you.”
“Then you must remember this,” Dorian hissed as he brandished a whip, “and all the things I used to do with it. That seems a little harsh.”
“Oh, I think you’ll enjoy it,” the demon said, “we’re professionals; we adhere to a strict code of conduct. I dug my heels into the floor and began squatting enthusiastically on the cocks desecrating my nethers.
