• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Journey of a Pain Slut ...

Go to CruxDreams.com
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT


EPILOGUE​


The sun streamed in through the large bedroom window of the mountainside apartment. It wasn't huge but it was big enough and the views out over the Atlantic were stunning. It triggered memories … too many really.

Sitting up in bed I brushed my hands back over my head, taking my hair with them. Twisting my head to the side I smiled down at the beautiful face next to me. Short, dark curls splayed out over the pillow, the duvet pulled down far enough to reveal her bare shoulders and the top of her slender back, the scars healed but still there taunting me ... teasing me … turning me on.

She turned, her back now flat to the mattress and she smiled up at me. Reaching out with my hand I made as if to stroke her cheek, but all I felt was the cool cotton of the pillow in the empty space next me.

There was no one there. There never was anyone there.

She was gone.

Life was different now, since that day. I still had my job, my profession if not quite the same level of income. After Red and I had returned from our time in Gran Canaria it had taken me so long to move forward in my head, that over time I had wound down my private practice. I now performed procedures on the NHS alone, that way I felt I was giving something back, for some reason I felt the need.

I coughed the choke away from my throat as once again, my thoughts trailed away, before a glint from the early morning sun reflecting off the clear blue water took me away from my reverie. Here on the mountain sides surrounding San Agustin was where I wanted to be, especially at this time.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up and glanced at the message. It was daughter number 2. She was getting married in a couple of months and she was double checking that I would be going, and prepared to give her away.

“Yes, and yes, very much so on both counts, xx” I replied to the text. Number 2 was still talking to me, unlike her elder sister who had battened down the hatches very much on the side of her mum after everything came out.

When I say ‘everything’ I mean that my wife knew about my relationship with a young student. She never asked what her name was, which was a good job because I didn’t know, but she saw messages on my phone. She called me sick, perverted and so many other things … she only knew what the messages told her, good thing she didn’t known what had really happened.

My 36-year marriage was over and maybe that’s how I wanted it. The four short months that my Little girl and I were together changed my life forever. I missed her still … I pined for her. There was no way that I could just go back to domestic harmony.

My wife found her backbone and kicked me out with immediate effect and then went to town on the divorce. She was harsh with her vitriol, and took half of everything I had, which I didn’t fight … I was still well enough off to live a good life.

That had all happened in the past twelve months, to the day, since we had played out the final act, here on this very mountainside.


******


I sat gazing out to sea. The wooden seat looking out over the Ocean was baked in sunshine.

I smiled wistfully as I recalled the very day. My groin still stiffened a little at the thought. What a scene it had been! And then afterwards, as we took her down from the tree and rolled her torn body, wound round with her own innards, into the sheet. I closed my eyes and shuddered as I recalled the panic that had begun to set in.

But we had pulled it off. Just like we planned. Body into the sea to be washed away, weighted so it would sink. Naked swimming to wash away the blood and the tools we had used disposed of into the same salty grave that was taking my Little Girl to a better place.

I was too wrapped up in my matrimonial upheaval upon arriving back in the UK to even think about the Police stuff. But it turned out that the forensic inquiry at Bridewell turned up nothing of note, and the cells soon opened again to visitors. I never went back.

“Hi Mister,” I looked up and smiled. It was the first time I had seen her since we parted at Manchester Airport. We texted occasionally … she knew about my divorce … we both needed to know that the other was there. We had a bloody, gory bond to tie us together.

“Red,” I stood to greet her. “You look stunning,” and it was true, she did.

I retook my seat and, with a smile to acknowledge my compliment, she sat down next to me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied. I turned to smile a weak smile at her, I understood her melancholy. It was a year today since we killed the slut … an unbelievable passage of time that somehow made the whole thing seem surreal. It was why Red and I needed to meet here, today … so that we could remember, together.

“How’s the wife?” She grinned.

“Still taking me to the cleaners,” I laughed.

“And so she should. You deserved it you bastard!” I turned to see her smile broaden as she said this.

We paused in comfortable silence.

“I still miss her,” Red said after a while.

“Me too.” I added.

“She was the only person I ever loved, you know, like that. She was …”

“… something else,” I finished off her sentence, knowing that we felt exactly the same about the slut, my Little Girl, Red’s lover.

“There’s been no one else since,” the flame-haired girl added pensively.

“There will be, in time,” I offered paternal words of wisdom.

“Did you ever hear from her folks?” I asked.

She slowly shook her head. “I never made contact. Why would I. What was the point?”

She was right of course, just as she had been right at the time about there being no recriminations, because the slut would just go down as a ‘missing adult’ who had chosen to start a new life somewhere else and had no intention of being found.

I felt sorry for them though, her ma and pa, and family. They had not just lost a daughter but they had no closure either. Maybe someday I would …

No, of course I wouldn’t. I couldn’t … never.

“She wanted it … the death.” I said, as if trying for some reason to vindicate what we did.

“No Mister, she didn’t …”

“Huh,” I was taken aback by Red’s words, until she added.

“She more than wanted it, she needed it … lived for it. She really would never had been happier than when you nailed her to that tree.”

Red’s words pacified me. Relaxed me.

“Can you stay over?”

Red chuckled. “I’ve flown all the way to Gran Canaria, mister, it’s not a day trip. My finals don’t start for another month, and getting away now for a break, is a good thing.”

I chuckled too.

“Tonight, you need to hurt me Mister, use me …” The words fluttered in as if transported by the Ocean breeze.

I turned to look at Red, who returned my gaze with a quizzical look on her face.

“What?” I said.

She shook her head, “I didn’t say anything mister.”

I smiled a knowing smile. Red smiled back at me and let her fingers creep into the space between us and entwine with mine.

We were not alone, the threesome bound in blood was still together … which is the way it would be, forever.
 
Fossy said:
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT


EPILOGUE​


The sun streamed in through the large bedroom window of the mountainside apartment. It wasn't huge but it was big enough and the views out over the Atlantic were stunning. It triggered memories … too many really.

Sitting up in bed I brushed my hands back over my head, taking my hair with them. Twisting my head to the side I smiled down at the beautiful face next to me. Short, dark curls splayed out over the pillow, the duvet pulled down far enough to reveal her bare shoulders and the top of her slender back, the scars healed but still there taunting me ... teasing me … turning me on.

She turned, her back now flat to the mattress and she smiled up at me. Reaching out with my hand I made as if to stroke her cheek, but all I felt was the cool cotton of the pillow in the empty space next me.

There was no one there. There never was anyone there.

She was gone.

Life was different now, since that day. I still had my job, my profession if not quite the same level of income. After Red and I had returned from our time in Gran Canaria it had taken me so long to move forward in my head, that over time I had wound down my private practice. I now performed procedures on the NHS alone, that way I felt I was giving something back, for some reason I felt the need.

I coughed the choke away from my throat as once again, my thoughts trailed away, before a glint from the early morning sun reflecting off the clear blue water took me away from my reverie. Here on the mountain sides surrounding San Agustin was where I wanted to be, especially at this time.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up and glanced at the message. It was daughter number 2. She was getting married in a couple of months and she was double checking that I would be going, and prepared to give her away.

“Yes, and yes, very much so on both counts, xx” I replied to the text. Number 2 was still talking to me, unlike her elder sister who had battened down the hatches very much on the side of her mum after everything came out.

When I say ‘everything’ I mean that my wife knew about my relationship with a young student. She never asked what her name was, which was a good job because I didn’t know, but she saw messages on my phone. She called me sick, perverted and so many other things … she only knew what the messages told her, good thing she didn’t known what had really happened.

My 36-year marriage was over and maybe that’s how I wanted it. The four short months that my Little girl and I were together changed my life forever. I missed her still … I pined for her. There was no way that I could just go back to domestic harmony.

My wife found her backbone and kicked me out with immediate effect and then went to town on the divorce. She was harsh with her vitriol, and took half of everything I had, which I didn’t fight … I was still well enough off to live a good life.

That had all happened in the past twelve months, to the day, since we had played out the final act, here on this very mountainside.


******


I sat gazing out to sea. The wooden seat looking out over the Ocean was baked in sunshine.

I smiled wistfully as I recalled the very day. My groin still stiffened a little at the thought. What a scene it had been! And then afterwards, as we took her down from the tree and rolled her torn body, wound round with her own innards, into the sheet. I closed my eyes and shuddered as I recalled the panic that had begun to set in.

But we had pulled it off. Just like we planned. Body into the sea to be washed away, weighted so it would sink. Naked swimming to wash away the blood and the tools we had used disposed of into the same salty grave that was taking my Little Girl to a better place.

I was too wrapped up in my matrimonial upheaval upon arriving back in the UK to even think about the Police stuff. But it turned out that the forensic inquiry at Bridewell turned up nothing of note, and the cells soon opened again to visitors. I never went back.

“Hi Mister,” I looked up and smiled. It was the first time I had seen her since we parted at Manchester Airport. We texted occasionally … she knew about my divorce … we both needed to know that the other was there. We had a bloody, gory bond to tie us together.

“Red,” I stood to greet her. “You look stunning,” and it was true, she did.

I retook my seat and, with a smile to acknowledge my compliment, she sat down next to me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied. I turned to smile a weak smile at her, I understood her melancholy. It was a year today since we killed the slut … an unbelievable passage of time that somehow made the whole thing seem surreal. It was why Red and I needed to meet here, today … so that we could remember, together.

“How’s the wife?” She grinned.

“Still taking me to the cleaners,” I laughed.

“And so she should. You deserved it you bastard!” I turned to see her smile broaden as she said this.

We paused in comfortable silence.

“I still miss her,” Red said after a while.

“Me too.” I added.

“She was the only person I ever loved, you know, like that. She was …”

“… something else,” I finished off her sentence, knowing that we felt exactly the same about the slut, my Little Girl, Red’s lover.

“There’s been no one else since,” the flame-haired girl added pensively.

“There will be, in time,” I offered paternal words of wisdom.

“Did you ever hear from her folks?” I asked.

She slowly shook her head. “I never made contact. Why would I. What was the point?”

She was right of course, just as she had been right at the time about there being no recriminations, because the slut would just go down as a ‘missing adult’ who had chosen to start a new life somewhere else and had no intention of being found.

I felt sorry for them though, her ma and pa, and family. They had not just lost a daughter but they had no closure either. Maybe someday I would …

No, of course I wouldn’t. I couldn’t … never.

“She wanted it … the death.” I said, as if trying for some reason to vindicate what we did.

“No Mister, she didn’t …”

“Huh,” I was taken aback by Red’s words, until she added.

“She more than wanted it, she needed it … lived for it. She really would never had been happier than when you nailed her to that tree.”

Red’s words pacified me. Relaxed me.

“Can you stay over?”

Red chuckled. “I’ve flown all the way to Gran Canaria, mister, it’s not a day trip. My finals don’t start for another month, and getting away now for a break, is a good thing.”

I chuckled too.

“Tonight, you need to hurt me Mister, use me …” The words fluttered in as if transported by the Ocean breeze.

I turned to look at Red, who returned my gaze with a quizzical look on her face.

“What?” I said.

She shook her head, “I didn’t say anything mister.”

I smiled a knowing smile. Red smiled back at me and let her fingers creep into the space between us and entwine with mine.

We were not alone, the threesome bound in blood was still together … which is the way it would be, forever.
Click to expand...
Perhaps a new "master slave" relationship will form between them? bound by a terrible secret.
 
Peony said:
Sorry it's taken me so long...been a bit busy, but have dropped in on the site a few times... its amazing this crux thing - its more exciting than I thought it could be!!!!

Anyway, to last Friday. No bullwhips (yet) but I did add a few extra knots to my little 3 tailed 'whip' and took it over to the BFs. This time we started off with some nice, slow, very cuddly and kissy sex. I liked it especially when he kissed me between my legs where my skin is still a bit raw and sore. And then it was time for our play-time. I'd talked him through it and this time I went down on my knees at the bottom of the bed and he tied my hands up over my head to the post at the end. He left me waiting there for a bit, which was super-thrilling, and just watched me breathing slowly. Then he came and ruffled my hair over my ears, kissed me on the back of the neck, asked me again if I was sure and, once I'd said I was, he picked up the whip from the bed. I held my breath.

He whipped me about twenty times on my back, between my shoulder blades. He left quite long gaps and I counted. Sometimes the gap was very long and I was left looking up at him, part wanting him to hit me and part wanting him to stop. It was really quite painful, but each time I had this wonderful struggle going on in my head between not wanting to be hurt and absolutely wanting to feel the sudden burn and the sound of the whip as it hit me. Is this normal? Anyway, it felt like butterflies and was pretty wonderful!

Once he was finished he turned me round, still on my knees, but now with my back to the bed, and I sucked him off, which was sweet of him to let me, and nice for him I think!

After, I looked at my back in the mirror, and it was pretty red (and pretty I thought). When he touched me it was tender and sore. We sat around for a while and talked about what had happened. I asked him if he was ok, and he said he was getting ok with it. I said I'd read about doing it outdoors and how he'd feel about that, and tlaked about the different whips I've looked at. He hugged me and asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this and that if I really did, he was ok and we'd keep ti our secret and things like that. Then he fucked me again. Twice more. It was a really brilliant night. I want to do this more because it makes me feel better than I've ever felt, but I'm just a bit scared about getting too hurt or marked up and what people will say, because I am sure someone will notice. But maybe that might be interesting too, having to expalin to a girl-friend at the gym what all the marks on me are!

I'm not going to rush into things too crazy though and we won't do any more whipping before the end of the week. Friday seems the best night... gives me a lot to look forward to every day in the library!!!
Click to expand...
"Is this normal?" Hardly you nutter! I've only just dropped onto this thread and only read this one part. Oh my god it's smouldering hot! I'm going to read it all when I can.

I get this thing which must be some sort of endorphin rush. Once we start playing and I'm into it I need it to hurt. My Master worries about hurting me because we play on line and he can't actually be there with me to judge for himself how much I'm suffering. I beg, I really do plead with him to continue because I have to overcome his reticence. I often reach the point where I'm thinking about how disappointed I'll be if he doesn't challenge me enough. He tells me it's dangerous to get so deep but I can't help it.
 
KurvyKate said:
"Is this normal?" Hardly you nutter! I've only just dropped onto this thread and only read this one part. Oh my god it's smouldering hot! I'm going to read it all when I can.

I get this thing which must be some sort of endorphin rush. Once we start playing and I'm into it I need it to hurt. My Master worries about hurting me because we play on line and he can't actually be there with me to judge for himself how much I'm suffering. I beg, I really do plead with him to continue because I have to overcome his reticence. I often reach the point where I'm thinking about how disappointed I'll be if he doesn't challenge me enough. He tells me it's dangerous to get so deep but I can't help it.
Click to expand...
I hope you will find "Journey ..." to your liking Kate because @Peony and yourself seem like kindred spirits ...
 
Peony said:
Alone at my keyboard. Feeling so sexy. I can write about what happened. Term over, so kisses and bye-byes and see you at yours for Christmas after I've done pressies and turkey with Ma and Pa. And I'm buzzing and tingling coz before then I'm off to see a girlfriend from school who's doing Psych at Leeds I lied to him.
Packing my bag. Just a back-pack.
Booking a ticket online. Off through the rain to the station. Leaning my head on the window as the Pennines slide by, obscured by beads of dank water that drag themselves across the filthy glass. Feeling so buzzy. Feeling so sexy. Feeling my boobs tight against my t-shirt (under my pully, coz it's cold). Feeling my cunt against the material of my jeans. Tight. Like he asked.
Station, bus. Rain and wind. People rushing around. I'm there. At the hotel. Feeling sick with excitement and fear. Longing for something. Knowing I'm transgressing.
Look at my phone.
Ten.
Go into the lobby. Look around. Business people and a few folks who've been up for shopping or stuff. Umbrellas. Baggage. Looking lost I guess. I don't know what to do. Keep looking around.
And then a hand touches my back.
I turn.
Him.
His hand thrusts down my jeans. I gasp. Isn't everyone watching?
No-one's ever watching.
His nails into my cunt.
I want this.
He smiles
'Glad you came.'
Coffee? I ask him.
Don't think so, he says. Shall we go. We've things to do.
He's walking away from me and I just follow him. I'm petrified. What the fuck am I doing? I want something. He can give it me, I think. But I don't even know him. I'm a fucking twat. What am I doing?
I want to do it. I want what I think will happen.
Fucking exciting. Fucking sexy. Fucking brilliant. Fucking terrifying. Butterflying inside and feeling so hot and so pretty. I want what will come. I'm pretty sure I do. I don't know where he's taking me. I don't even know his name.
Click to expand...
Oh my god, this is fantastic! "I'm petrified. What the fuck am I doing?" You're making my heart thump.
 
Peony said:
Fuck yes! He's stringing me up! I've dreamt so much of this.
I'm off my friggin' feet!
My arms are pulling out of their sockets! My tits are pushing out, my lungs are screaming at me! It's fuckin' brilliant!
Why do I love this pain so much?
I'm a fucked-up girl I think.
Fucking fucked up.
Fucking fucking fucked and about to be well and truly fucked.
He's tying up my ankles.
It's fucking' brilliant!
He knows me I think.
I'm HURTING!
But the bastard! I'm all over the fuckin' place! Let me FUCKING CUM YOU BASTARD!!!
Bastard...
Whip me then.
Yeah!
Whip me!
Yeah!
So fuckin' fuckin' good!
He just hears my screams, but inside I'm fuckin' crying with sex and happiness!
Oh god BF! You can't do this to me!
I want him to hit me again.
Yeah!
My fuckin' burning ass!
Wrap that lovely, sexy whip around my side you bastard!
Fucking hit me so you cut my cuts!
I'm bouncing!
I'm hurting so so much!
I'll never explain these cuts to anyone... I don't fucking care. Hit me!
Hit me!
Hurt me!
Hurt me til I can't even cry any more!
I love this!
Hurt me!
Fuck!!!!
Click to expand...
I love Peony. I don't think I've read the intoxicating thrill of fear expressed so evocatively.
 
Fossy said:
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 2 Chapter 13

“Coffee would be just the best thing, thank you love.” I collapsed into my chair as the youngest of our two children had just left to head back home with her partner and their wonderful but chaotic dog, after spending Christmas with my wife and I at the family home.

Number 1 child had left earlier with her husband and our brood of delightful grandchildren, and now … peace at last!

“Well I think that went well,” my wife said with a very self-satisfied smile. And well she might given the splendid display she had put on for Christmas Dinner and at every possible festive feeding time since.

“When are you back in theatre dad?” One of the girls, I forget which one, had asked enquiring about the time I had off.

“Dad …” she had had to say again in order to get my attention.

“Where were you?” she grinned at me as my focus came back onto the present.

“Sorry love just tired …” was my reply, but it wasn’t that at all. I was preoccupied, I had been all Christmas, especially on the Eve, when we attended the local church crib service with all of the family, and there in front of the pews where we sat listening to the nativity, was the crucifix.

I like to think of myself as a good man, a little religious if I’m honest, and these thoughts were so blasphemous … but they were there in my head and the image of Christ on the cross, blood seeping down his arms from his broken wrists, was replaced by my Little Girl, naked, bleeding, crucified.

Damn, I had never had an erection at the Christmas Eve service before, and I didn’t want one now. But what I wanted didn’t seem to matter!

And I was still distracted by thoughts of her, my sweet little pain slut, desperate for her fix, when my daughter asked her question.

“Just tired love,” I repeated, “… sorry and the answer about my work is not until after the New Year, so I have a nice rest.”

“Well you deserve it daddy of mine, given how hard you work. Mum said you were speaking at a conference at some hotel right up until the Saturday before Christmas … sometimes I think you do too much dad. So, relax … let me fetch you another beer.”

If only they knew how flawed I was.

I didn’t deserve their gratitude …

Not given what I had done and was planning on doing again.

But now the house and our lives were quiet, and they stayed that way through boxing day and in the lead up to the New Year. Just peaceful drinks with friends and surgical colleagues, mince pies with the neighbours, and TV bingeing with the wife – perfect … almost. All except for one thing.

“Are you okay in there love?” The wife had shouted into the en-suite just as I was about to cum.

The image of my Little Girl with her back cut open, bleeding, ready to be whipped … her breasts skewered with wood, and her labia punctured with steel …

“Ohhhhh yesssssss!” I had groaned as my back arched and I shot my load into the toilet basin.

“Just coming …” I shouted back … eventually, and with (genuinely) no pun intended.

New Year’s Eve was tomorrow and we had a dinner at the local golf club. A black tie do, with five courses, pipers, fireworks … everything …

Everything … but not her … she wouldn’t fit in with my real life, but I missed her anyway … more than that, I wanted her.

“Is that your phone love?” My wife reacted to the buzz. It was … it was her, my Little Girl, so I reached out and picked up the handset as soon as I could.

I read her message, devouring every word.

“Hope you had a nice Christmas. I miss you hurting me. Tell me what you're going to do to me next time...”

Holy shit. Just those three short sentences brought it all back to me … her lovely face, firm body, rounded breasts, even the chaste kiss on the cheek when she left to head back to the station and how broken she was … oh damn!

I moved into my office, the one at home where I issued the paperwork for my private practice, the theatre work that made me the real money above and beyond the NHS. We all did it.

But right now, paperwork was not on my mind.

“I did thank you. I had a lovely Christmas, I hope you did too and that the family didn’t uncover your ‘marks’ – oh and the BF, how did that go? Have you seen him yet? I missed you though … fuck, how I missed you. Once NY is done then we will arrange our next meeting. When are you back North?”

I pressed SEND, deliberately avoiding the answer to her question about next time. Once the message had gone, I began to type a second one.

“Next time I will hurt you even more Little Girl. Next time you will feel nails in your body, pain in your genitals and metal scourge tips eating your flesh. You won’t be able to breathe and I will only torment you more to heighten your desperation. I will cut your body while it hangs on the cross and take you closer to the edge of death than you ever thought possible …”

She wouldn’t die, of course, I needed her too much for that. But sowing that seed would fuel her imagination, of that I had no doubt.

And then for a second time I pressed SEND.
Click to expand...
I don't enjoy the parts of this where you're describing how you torture Peony. It's barbaric and gory and it's not a lot different to how sadistic fantasists always torture their imagined victims. So far it's her short, sharp "I want it, I don't want it" style of expressing her erotic terror which has kept me enthralled. The Fossy parts have been the monster she needs to be scared of. This part however, is the best Fossy part yet. This turns the fantasy into a credible story, it adds believability and drama. You're missing her, or the addictive hit of torturing her at least?

There's too much full on kinky sex in this for it to be a real, publishable book. However if that took place against the backdrop of both your ordinary lives, real life like this part is, it would make an engaging story. It's just so fucking wicked!
 
Peony said:
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 2 Chapter 22

me and Abi we'll go back to my place and see you in the pub later, ok?
Tell you the truth but I'm fucked, he says. Beer or man flu or something. Going down with something. Need a break. So you two enjoy the weekend and I'll get my head down, he says
Fuck! No lies needed. A free pass!

Back home. Messy. Undress her. So fucking gorgeous. So fucking sweet. Sexy tats... how did I not notice? Suck her tits til she cries.

Sure? I ask. Tomorrow? I ask.
Sure she says.
Ok, tonight lets play.
I get some plasters and some drawing pins.
Give me your panties.
Ok
Pins ... lots ... and stick them inside front and back. And me too.
Just a little game I say.
And these, I say. Tiny bulldog clips for our nipples.
People will see, she says
I know, I say.
We get dressed.
T shirts and short skirts and pins in our cunts and twisted nipples and the clips show under our tshirts.
Jackets on and down the pub.

Guys stare and we smile back
Fucking hurts she says.
Panties wet on our cunts.
A trickle of red on her thigh... I wipe it off and lick my finger. Fucking sexy girl.

She's cool for this I think. Lean over, kiss her, twist the clip

No underwear tomorrow I tell her. A button up shirt half open. He'll love your chest tat you fuckin sexy girl. Ok?
Ok.

Kiss her on the lips. Sluice beer into her mouth. Fuck I love her!

One night to wait. We can hardly sleep.

Dull fuckin Friday
Onto the train. She scared now. Good. So am I. Scared sexy excited. Can't fucking wait.

Ugly Leeds. Taxi this time to the shitty hotel. Kiss her. Hold her hand. Walk into the lobby and wait.

Fuck this is so fucking exciting.
Ok? I ask her.
Yeah. Yeah. She says.
Love you, she says.
Squeeze her hand in mine.
So fucking terrified excited sexy.
Click to expand...
"Pins ... lots ... and stick them inside front and back. And me too." I do that, really!
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom