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“That’s all I needed to know,” Mistress Melinda, said curtly, pulling a nickle-plated revolver from her purse and pointing it at me. “You have discovered the secret to opening a Volkov Kollar.” “Do you really think I will turn that information over to you?” I said firmly. “Oh,” she replied, “that would be preferred. But you don’t really have to.” She held up her purse and said brightly, “The little electronic sniffers in here have picked up all signals for the past two hours, including the signal needed to open the collar.” She gave me a very forced smile and said very smugly, “And besides, your security people are loyal to the highest bidder and tonight that happens to be me.” A quick burst of six or eight bullets tore up the grass in front of her feet. “Sorry to disappoint you,” sexy the chef said with a grimace, “but my people are loyal to me. They reported your generous offers almost as soon as you had made them.” He paused to look over at me and said even more firmly,”And I am loyal to W... regardless of the price.” He was holding two Glock 18 fully-automatic pistols that had been concealed in special holsters beneath his expansive black apron. Either of these 9mm monsters could empty a standard 12- round clip in a half a second. The magazines on the two he was holding were specially designed. When inserted, it looked like a smaller version of the round canister from a 1920's era Tommy Gun had been attached to the bottom of the pistol grip. Those spiral clips held 140 rounds, which extended your burst capability on full automatic to a grand total of seven seconds. Mistress Melinda’s shoulders slumped. “I’m dead anyway,” she said flatly as she turned to indian aim at the chef. I screamed “NO!” and dove to tackle her. It wasn’t until I was on top of her on the ground that I could see the bright silver Volkov Kollar around her throat. “Clear,” MILF I said loudly, doctor as I pushed her weapon over onto the grass. And then even more loudly, I yelled to the other Masters and Mistresses, “Help me get her into the display tent! Now!” Without knowing why I wanted it, they hurried to help me drag her toward the second tent. She was basically limp in our arms, quivering slightly as she waited for the knife wire to trigger. As we lay her on the grass that was the floor of the tent, I noted that– despite my instructions– one of the other Masters was armed and had pulled a small automatic from a concealed holster above his waist. I wasn’t angry. I couldn’t blame him. It’s what I would have done in his place. I shook Mistress Melinda hard and said forcefully. “There is no electronic signal that can open the collar.” She squirmed beneath me as if trying to escape and brought her hands up to her neck trying to tear the collar from her throat. “This tent,” I said firmly, “is flooded with rf at the control frequency of your collar. It thinks teen it is still attached to whoever is controlling it, but their signals are swamped out. You are safe inside this tent.” It was so primal and rough. This time pausing to get a good look at her ass-hole. “You mean this?” Becky asked and MILF increased the pressure on Mary's pubic bone. If someone saw me... "Sure Daddy indian . . . Break me! Make me your slave! I dumped him and took a cab home. I dragged my eyes away, trying to sneak a look at her face. He stroked all my naughty bits. Yes, I've been masturbating to you. She should definitely not be doing this. I was a little upset about how she was just keeping me outside in the cold, interrogating me, not even being polite enough to sexy open the door more than a crack. My shaft squeezed pump after pump of what was left in my balls into the girl’s bowels. “Voo hun!” she moved her head in a no. Doing this is quite a bit harder though, keeping my balance without the support of my arms, I give my absolute best attempt though. You know what I mean?” Let me first start off by giving you a doctor little background information about me and my mother. I definitely wanted more thick cock in my mouth, so I pressed him onto the bed and spread his legs. She gave a dismissive laugh. Ooh, you're a naughty thing. Sheru is my dog. ¿Interesado?” She asked as I thought about it. The same went for Logan, since just like the high teen heels Rose and Seth had been given a matching pair. If Tracey had seen him in the street back home she would of considered him a street urchin. Telling me what an extraordinarily good girl I was, kissing me gently.