Pelaimuhn

Ten generations of the Caravanserai Pelaimuhn.

“By night he holds me down, in the sands. Ties me, knee to elbow and wrist to ankle, in ways that I cannot escape. Even if I wanted to. In ways that leave me defenceless beneath his hands. Beneath his mind. He dreams me open, and he opens me. The cock at my lip, dripping its first single shimmering drop onto my tongue. The thumb firm and gentle, firm and unstoppable, at the pink slit of my cunt. He opens my body for his pleasure. He sees me, hard and throbbing, and he doesn’t stop. He sees the things I love. Feels my body respond beneath his hands.”