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Now!” Without knowing why I wanted it, they hurried to help me drag her toward the second tent. She was basically limp in our arms, quivering slightly as she waited for the knife wire to trigger. As we lay her on the grass that was the floor of the tent, I noted that– despite my instructions– one of the other Masters was armed and had pulled a small japan automatic from a concealed holster above his waist. I wasn’t angry. I couldn’t blame him. It’s what I would have done in his place. I shook Mistress Melinda hard and said forcefully. “There is no electronic signal exotic that can open the collar.” She squirmed beneath me as if trying to escape and brought her hands up to her neck trying to tear the collar from her throat. “This tent,” I said firmly, “is flooded with rf at the control frequency of your collar. It thinks it is still attached to whoever is controlling it, but their signals are swamped out. You are safe inside this tent.” “But there has to be a key,” she said tearfully. “You got the collar off of Loraine.” She smiled at me with a strange mixture of fear and hope on her face and added, “... like I knew you would.” “I couldn’t,” I replied. “But I knew someone who could.” “So where is the key?” she asked. “You’re lying in front of it,” I said. “Boris and Natasha went through all the code that controls the collar and found that there was no command that would open it or shut it down. That can only be done from the control panel on the neck side of the collar. There was a place in the memory for a True or False variable that would open the collar, but there was no way to access that part of memory. Volkov intended it to be the perfect slave collar. It was permanent and the only way to escape it was death.” Mistress Melinda looked very confused. “But you opened Loraine’s collar?..” she sputtered. “There has to be a way.” “It is very hard to explain,” I said, “but the memory slot that keeps track of how many orgasms you have had in a day is asian right next to the memory slot that says to open the collar. And your orgasm memory slot overflows if you have more than 15 orgasms in a day.” “That’s impossible,” she said, her shoulder slumping even further. “I can have sex that many times, but japanese there’s no way I would orgasm every time.” “That’s where my Orgasmatron comes in,” I said, “... and a heavy dose of rasagiline.” She looked at me even more confused and I said, “It’s a Parkinson’s drug with the side effect of giving women spontaneous orgasms.” “I owe you,” she said. “No,” I said, “you owe all the subs and switches that you tricked into slavery. The police and FBI will be here by the time you finish your horsey ride. You will give them names, dates, places, and anything else they need.” “I only did it because of this,” she said, reaching up to her collar. She tried to smile and then said, “I thought a weekend as a sub would be interesting.” blowjob “Oh. She discovered sexual intercourse completely by exotic accident, simply theorizing that it would make us both feel good. I was in the line of fire. This time they landed close to her feet. The result was that she would gag messily all over the cock in her mouth and all over herself as well. It's a humungous firefly we just wanted to catch it." Clark then makes his way over to me with a bottle of water. He was blowjob asian handsome and confident, and I could tell Yavara was assessing the contents of his trousers, though she did that with everybody. She couldn't have puppies, only babies. “Always lucky with you,” I japan japanese replied.