Four more young women with hot bodies and big life plans get impregnated by their daddies, brothers, and complete strangers, then have their bodies and lives completely ruined.
These stories appear in other specialty bundles, so check the contents in the bundle description or sample for a list of all contents.
Download the sample for some extra naughty excerpts!
This 4-pack includes:
My Yoga Teacher Got Me Pregnant in Front of the Whole Class
My Daddy Sold Me to Strangers, Got Me Pregnant, and Ruined My Body
My Redneck Brother Got Me Pregnant
Siberian Prison Sex Slave
From My Yoga Teacher Got Me Pregnant in Front of the Whole Class:
Brad told me to stand on one foot and bring the other up so that it was resting on my inner thigh. Then he told me to raise both of my hands up over my head and put them together in prayer pose. It was hard for me to stay in that position. I kept tipping over. But Brad was right behind me, holding onto my waist to keep me steady.
The rest of the class got into the pose, and all of their eyes were on me. I felt a little insecure, like I always did when I was up in front of a group of people, but I was especially insecure because I wanted to impress them. And I was sure that wasn’t going to be happening with my huge breasts and nipples straining out of my tank top like they were.
I felt Brad’s hands move from my waist up to the sides of my breasts. I couldn’t look down so I wasn’t sure, but it felt like he was cupping them over my tank top. I tried to move my arms down, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move my legs either. It was the strangest sensation. I was frozen in place, but I could feel everything that was happening to my body and everything going on in my mind.
Suddenly Brad pulled my tank top down, completely exposing my breasts to the entire class. I was completely mortified, but I still couldn’t move a muscle to cover myself up. What I really wanted to do was run out of the room, but I couldn’t move.
From Siberian Prison Sex Slave:
I was dragged down multiple hallways, and through at least four cell doors before I was finally given a place to sit down. It was a table, like something from a doctors office, with a vinyl surface and metal stirrups. Only this one had straps that they used to tie down my arms and legs. And it had a place for my head to rest as it hung off the back end.
I was still so out of it that nothing felt real. I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn’t a dream. At least I didn’t think it was. But I was pretty sure it wasn’t, because my mind was slowly becoming sharper, and as each minute passed I put more and more together.
As I lay there, listening to dozens of footsteps shuffle their way toward the table, I wondered how many times I’d been in this exact same place, and in this exact same position. If I was this far along, that meant I had to have been in this place for at least eight months. Maybe more. And if I didn’t remember being on this table, or being fucked by any of these men, that meant I was always drugged … always out cold … when this was done to me.