Brad was careful to keep the cell phone pointed directly at the purple dildo as she plunged it back and forth into her aching pussy.
"Aaah! Mmmmh .... oooh! This feels sooo good!" she moaned -- imitating the countless pornos she had watched as a man.
It was important to keep her angelic face out of frame because there was no way she could keep the look of revulsion from showing in her expressive doe-like eyes or prevent her sensuous cocksucking lips from curling downward in disgust at what she was being forced to do. Brad writhed on the bed and ground her pelvis against her fist, doing best to sell the idea that she was nearing climax.
Little feminite yips escaped his lips, before exploding into full-throated screams, "Oh God! Oh God! Yes! Yes!"
She paused for a moment to give the illusion of coming down from an orgasmic high, and then plastered a stupid grin across her girlish face before tilting the camera up.
“Mistress! I did it! I did it! I came just like a girl. I’ve learned my lesson now. Honest! Can I turn back?”
A brief moment of silence was followed by a sensuous chuckle from a disembodied voice emenating the cell phone speaker.
"Brandi, Brandi, Brandi. You silly little bimbo. Faking things was what Brad was good at. He faked a modeling agency, faked an audition for my sister, and even faked kindness when he offered her a drink laced with Rohypnol."
"Brandi is just a stupid little cow who couldn’t fake a tan -- much less an orgasm. You’ll find the only way she can achieve orgasm is by getting the real deal. Dildos just aren’t going to cut it.”
A horrified look crept across Brad’s pretty face. “You don’t mean…”
“Brandi needs cock,” mistress said flatly. “A big, throbbing injection of man-meat into her sopping cunt. That’s the only way my little slut can get off.”
“Oh mistress, please! I can’t!” Brad wailed, tears welling up in her eyes. “Anything but that. I’m begging you.”
The voice ignored the interuption, “And because you lied to me, you now need to orgasm 10 times in the next 24 hours instead of five.”
“10 times? That’s impossible, mistress! I haven’t been able to even get myself off once!” Brad replied.
“If I were you, Brandi, I’d stop arguing and get out there and find some good dick,” the voice said coolly. “Or the only way you'll ever see a cock again is when you are on your knees.”
Brad stood up, squeezed herself into a pink tube top. The word “slut” across her chest was stretched almost beyond recognition by her ripe breasts. She wiggled her juicy ass into a black microskirt that he adjusted to cover as much of his naked pussy as possible. She slipped her feet into the clear platform heels had taken weeks of training to learn to use properly, and sasheyed towards the door.
“One last piece of advice?”
“Yes, mistress?”
“I think Brandi is a bit of a size queen, if you know what I mean” the voice said mischievously before turning deadly serious. “Eight inches. Minimum.”
“Yes, mistress,” Brandi replied glumly, -- taking a deep breath, shoving the cell phone between her luscious tits and opening the door.
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Original author: Frangle Sent to my by Cbrorigins.
Repost of a caption already on this site to add the missing image.