Penelope’s POV
Before I had fully woken up, I felt something poking at my lips.
It's not a very comfortable feeling. I shut my mouth subconsciously, avoiding the object that annoyed me.
“F.uck....open your mouth, b.itch!”
It was Mike's voice, and I'll never forget it till the day I die.
I opened my eyes suddenly. In front of me was an enlarged version of a fuchsia sausage with veins popping out. Mike carefully held his d.ick and moved it over my lips, and a little fluid oozed from the tip onto my lips.
I subconsciously wanted to reach out to block it, but found the b.astard tied my hands behind my back. My body is under his control, and my upper body cannot move.
I turned my head to avoid the foul-smelling d.ick, which smelled worse than a pile of fish and shrimp that had been fished out of the sea. I can think of a pile of rotting meat exposed to the air for three months to attract countless flies. I can even see its foreskin.