“Put that clever tongue of yours to good use and make me come,” she demanded. Would you like that, Meredith? Heather chuckles sinisterly, amused and aroused by Meredith’s desperation. She started with the zipper of her pencil dress. Yet, her struggles only seemed to excite Heather more. Meredith’s hair, usually so perfectly coiffed, clung to her face in damp tendrils, disordered by Heather’s vigorous movements. The pledge jolts at the unexpected contact, a choked gasp escaping her lips. You’ve learned. They were swiftly followed by a horde of at least twenty large men. “Ten big angry, thick cocks, all lined up and ready to ruin this tight little hole.” Heather said. As Heather held herself open, a bead of moisture could be seen at her vaginal opening. Meredith stumbled, crying out as she lost her balance. The men with camcorders, the isolated location, Meredith’s complete vulnerability and despair – it was all going according to Heather’s cruel design. She has never touched herself like this before, not with an audience, and certainly not under such degrading circumstances.
