One would stretch out flat beneath her so she was forced to straddle his thick cock while the second pounded into her tight ass from behind.
"Ahhh! Both of them—no, no, I'm splitting apart! God, it hurts so good—no, stop saying that, I hate you, I hate you all—ahhh...!"
Lord Veyne introduced the wooden breeding frame on the fifteenth day.
It was a simple, sadistic structure that locked her securely on all fours at the exact right height, her wrists and ankles trapped in irons.
"Let me down... please... my arms are going numb... ahh... anything but the frame... please..." she sobbed hour after hour.
The old man would sit nearby with a cup of spiced wine and a fresh dish of blue pills, occasionally rising to add his aging cock to whichever hole happened to be free.
"Ah... master... please, fill me... make it stop burning... ngh... ahh...!" she mewled mindlessly, her resistance completely shattered by the relentless drugs.
