Wrong) - and when she wasn't cleaning, she was cumming.The butt-plug seemed to amplify her sex-drive tenfold; she'd been easily worked-up lately, but with the butt-plug in, everything, everything reminded her of sex. Her TV remote immediately got her thinking about the cocks she'd sucked; the "submit" button on her email log-in made her wonder what it would be like to submit to a big, hulking man; even the act of plugging her iPhone in to charge reminded her how much she wanted to be plugged, how charged up she was feeling.What Molly hadn't noticed was that each orgasm was knocking a few points off her IQ. After her fourteenth orgasm of the day, her to-do list has simply read "Cleen, jim, cum", and by Sunday evening, she couldn't even read that.Panic had momentarily seized her when she couldn't work out how to turn the TV on, but after a few minutes of the rain, the quiet, peaceful, gentle rain, she realised that it wasn't worth worrying about - worry was for smart people. She didn't. I laid there alone for most of the day untilthe two guys came in and brought me outside to eat.The old lady fed me again, once again insistent that I eat the orangemelon. I sat and watched the others eat, there was something strange aboutit, but I couldn't figure out what._ _ _ _ _I woke up in the same dark room still stiff, still itchy. The onlydifference was this time my bandages felt kind of tight. "It must bebecause the blood has dried up," I thought. "But if that's the case, whyis it only now feeling tight?"I realized I could move my arms quite freely now which was a relief. Thewomen came in again and did their little jobs and gossiped. One of thempassed me a basket of nuts and I figured I was supposed to help. I startedcracking them open and separating the meat and the shells. About half anhour latter one of the babies began to cry and his mother handed him overto me. "Whoa! What am I supposed to do?" One of the women looked me in theeye and started rocking her baby so I.
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