There was no use in screaming, not in here. Any time Lesley opened his mouth, a young woman’s pussy juices flooded in and washed away any thought he had. Pushing and shoving were less effective than that: his one good arm only tested the pliancy of the young Chinese woman’s labia majora, barely shoving her pubic hair aside as his fist went deeper and deeper into the cushioning flesh.

And who would he call out to, anyway? Who was waiting in the recesses of YourSweetLuv’s tender, narrow vagina that could answer his call and come to his rescue? Hell, if anyone was in there, they were long dead: drowned, crushed, exposed to the elements of a college student’s all-consuming sexuality. There was no one waiting for Lesley—except 300 viewers to his captor’s webcam channel, waiting for him to perish, paying top dollar to witness the experience. All that was left for him was to choke on this camgirl’s juices, and yet his body just wouldn’t succumb.