Extreme Adult Pornblog

Categories: HD Death Fetish, Snuff, Strangulation, Execution, Abduction, Maniac, PKF Studios

Description: Starring: Ana Molly, Belle Fatale

The veteran’s boots echoed against the creaking floorboards as he dragged the unconscious therapists into the dimly lit living room. Their bodies were limp, but he handled them with practiced precision, as though they were delicate instruments. The house was empty—no one had answered the door, not even the owner, who had long since abandoned it. He placed them on opposite ends of the sofa, their faces tilted upward, eyes closed, breathing shallow. The air smelled faintly of old perfume and mildew, a scent he’d grown accustomed to over the years.

He knelt between them, fingers brushing the fabric of their skirts. The chloroform had done its job, but they were still warm, still alive, still responsive. He lifted their skirts slowly, revealing the smooth curves of their thighs, the soft folds of their pussies peeking over the panties. His touch was deliberate, almost reverent, as he traced the contours of their bodies. They moaned faintly, a sound that sent a thrill through him, though he kept his movements gentle, ensuring they wouldn’t wake too abruptly.

When the first therapist stirred, he shifted his focus to the second, already undressing her with a swift, practiced motion. Her red hair fell in a cascade over her shoulders as he pulled it back, revealing the pale skin of her neck. He unclipped her tank top, exposing her chest, and began massaging her tits with a fervor that bordered on obsession. She writhed, her moans growing louder, her lips biting down hard on her own flesh. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, and whispered promises of comfort—of therapy—as she teetered between sleep and awareness.

But then the redhead’s eyes fluttered open. Her gaze locked onto his, wide and glassy, yet filled with something else: fear. She flinched, her fingers clawing at the rope tied around her throat. He watched her struggle, the way her body bucked and heaved, the way her legs kicked in a desperate attempt to free herself. The other therapist, now fully awake, screamed but couldn’t break free from the tank top gag. Her eyes met the redhead’s, a silent plea for help, as the veteran’s hands tightened around the rope.

He pulled, and the redhead’s head lolled back, her breaths shallow, her body arching in a slow, inevitable surrender. The Dr., still bound and trembling, reached out, her fingers grazing the edge of the rope, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her words barely audible. The veteran didn’t answer. He was already moving to the Dr., his hands gripping her waist, lifting her onto the sofa’s backrest.

The room was a theater of violence and desire. He slammed her against the cushions, his fingers digging into her ribs, his mouth pressing against her neck as he fucked her with a brutal rhythm. She thrashed, her legs kicking, her nails scraping the wood, but he held her down, his body a blur of motion and aggression. The redhead, now lifeless, lay beside him, her limbs dangling over the edge, a silent spectator to the chaos.

When he finished, his breath ragged, his hands slick with sweat, he stepped back to inspect his work. The therapists were positioned perfectly—neither touching the floor, their bodies slumped in a pose of submission. He smiled, a cold, calculating expression, and adjusted the rope on the redhead’s neck once more. The Dr. watched him, her eyes wide, her mind racing, but she said nothing.

He left the room, the sound of water running from the bathroom echoing through the silence. The two dead therapists remained where they were, their limbs still, their faces serene in death. The veteran would return, as he always did, to collect what was his. For now, the house was quiet, the air thick with the scent of sleep and blood.

Info:
File Size: 2.53 GB
Resolution: 1920 x 1080
Duration: 00:29:48
Framerate: 60.000 FPS

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