The scene opened with the husband, and wife sat at the dining table fully dressed, the camera panned round, and seated at the long table was also father, mother, uncle Willoby, and another man they had no idea about, who passed a camera to Willoby (who they later found did most if not all of the filming.) the main film being shot by some sort of fixed camera. Round the table each person identified themselves, the lady as Anne, her husband as Collin, Father as Silvester, Mother as Cissily and the unknown introduced himself as Eric, and he was here at Collins request, to enjoy Anne and then to watch the branding afterwards, Anne said she, was having her brand done to enforce the feeling for Collin that she was his property and would always return regardless of with who or how often she cuckolded him, Eric being her present stud. She rose, and Cissily too stood both women facing one another and at a word from father they began to undress one another. By now our Sylvia was openly. "Uhhhhhhhhhh!" Herbreath shot from her lungs as she sobbed, frustrated. It was no good.The fucking phalli were too strong. She couldn't break away from them.Now that her memories of Angel, Spike, Parker, Riley, and Giles hadabandoned her to her present fate and she'd failed to free herself,Buffy was, once again, conscious of the assault of the three pricks uponher person. Once more, she felt used and abused, as unclean as if shewere a slut or a whore rather than a victim. She felt dirty and vile,wanton and impure. She was ashamed. She was mortified. Thick, warm, andwet, tears, as large as the fiery yellow-orange topaz that burned in thegold setting of her high school graduation ring, dribbled over hercheeks. She closed her blurry eyes, wishing she were dead.The prick that filled Buffy's mouth lurched between the wide ring of hersmooth, pink lips, poking back and forth across her saliva-slick tongueand between the fleshly walls of her inner cheeks. It shoved roughlypast her uvula,.
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