She perches on the end of his bed with her knee tucked to her chin, crouching like an animal in stealthy surveillance. He stands to her side his arm wrapped around her shoulders and the found thing lays out in front of them on the cloth. She leans forwards and strokes her hand across the arch of the foot of the thing. A single long slide, from ankle to toe, with the tip of her finger. The found thing giggles foolishly and she raises her eyes up to him to check his response. Nothing comes, so she continues to stroke the foot and coax her fingers up the leg.
The found thing lays half dressed, sallow skinned with pale, thin white hair. Bleached out and yellow. Things' clothes raised and twisted reveal taught fine ribs and wild blue veins, spread thighs and boney joints.
Her hands roam again up the found things legs, she leans forward to stroke higher and he tightens his grip on her shoulders. She sits back instantly and patiently and looks up to check him again. He looks at her and smiles and says "I know you're very eager but I think a kiss would be nice". She drops her head and closes her knees and feels a very silly little slut.
She crawls up the body of the found thing and softly kisses its lips. A tantalising lick of a soft puckered pout. She closes her eyes and warms to the act. She strokes her fingers along its cheek, through its stringy hair and down the line of its jaw to its soft, freckled decolletage. She reaches beneath fabric and pinches tender breast tissue in her small hands. The thing squirms underneath her and mewls softly. She covers its mouth and tells it to hush and looks back at him again. He moves and sits to the side of the found thing. Surveys it like a piece of drift wood, bleached, washed up and sandy.
She continues to stroke and pinch its delicate flesh and move her mouth to ribs then a stomach, then pelvis, then split. He grabs her by her dog scruff hair and yanks her face up to his. "Do you think you deserve to taste?" He asks and kisses her lips. She looks deep into the blue plane, considering. "No" is the response "But may I?" sets a plea. He lets go of her and she leans down towards the found thing's thighs and inspects her delicacy.
She breaths in a scent of sourness and must and sweat and stretches her tongue tentatively across quivering lips. She kisses soft and begins to explore an expanse of beautiful pink flesh. The found thing gasps and squirms and he puts his hand to its neck and he says it must not talk unless it is spoken to.
Her darting tongue begins to spread the tender meat apart and reach the aching core. A molten trickle of creamed fluid slips into taste and she laps at it softly. She runs the hard flat of her tongue up to its exquisite point of pleasure and illation and begins to kiss and suck and nuzzle gently with her nose and chin. She hums a gentle sigh into the found thing and the found thing reciprocates with squirms and squeaks like vermin. He closes his focus on its face and says "In a moment you can pick a number. Do you understand?" Its bulging wet pupils open with a flutter and it looks at him in confusion. "Must I repeat myself?".
He raises from his bed and stands behind her legs. She is nose deep is soft silks and wet lipped with her own saliva. He pushes his fingers deftly into her warm damp cunt, leans and exhales deeply into the back of her neck. She breaths hard and is thankful and his palm smacks down on her bottom. She flinches but does not stop. He hits her again and further. Short sharp bare handed slaps in a wrist twist of successions. Her legs begin to shake a little and her body is nudged closer to the found thing's lumps with every waiting hit. She begins to exhale murmurs of pain as her bottom reddens. She pushes herself backwards into his hands and he calls her a good girl. He raises her by the chin from between the found thing's bones then he looks into its bubbling fearful eyes. "You can pick a number"
She closes her eyes and the swallowing muscle rolls down her bare throat. She is exposed and nude. He remains dressed, the thing is still in its rags and flourishes. He strokes his beautiful hands down her chest and stops to twist erect flesh. He rests his palm on her stomach and holds her there in status. "Pick a number"
The small sap of a voice trills from its thin lips "Six? Seven?".
"Pick a number"
"Six".
"Count"
He bends her back down towards the found thing and rests the tip of her nose of the mound of its hair covered groin. He hits her hard. She yelps and is pushed forward. Her nose brushes from nub to navel. The thing scrambles and squirms and gasps. He gently pulls her back by her hips and hits her forcefully again. The thing tries to move away but is trapped at the knee by the pincer of her kneeling legs.
"Count for her" he says in mild annoyance.
"One"
She is in too much pain to correct the runt's poor mathematics and swallows another four hits until she reaches her sixth. She knows a seventh will be dealt for the found thing's mistake. She raises her head, looks into its tepid watery eyes and loathes it. Her cunt sops, her tears stream and her bottom and thighs are welted and bruised. The final hit drives her nose to the bottom of its ribs and she wails in agony. He delves his fingers back between her thighs and lifts her soft body so her back can rest against his chest. Her pulse beats hard and his fingers stroke her wetness and excite her. They kiss again. He kisses her. She is breathless and swaying. "Finish it now". She leans back down and orally pleasures the found thing until its stagnant fear is replaced with mousey squeaks and little moans and a spurt of climax. She scoops a clump from its hole and rubs the fluid into its grinning gums. She thrusts her fingers down the found thing's throat and makes it choke. She yanks back her hand covered in juice and saliva and offers it to him to taste. He sucks her fingers softly, runs his tongue along his teeth and spits the gift back out onto the found thing's chest.
She drops her head and licks it up.
