Then the blood-rage took over as he ripped into his mate while the warriors restrained her arms. How dare this bitch stand against him, the leader of ...he Pride!The rage passed and Krang's senses returned, hearing only the silence of the blood dripping from his claws. Before him, still held by the guards, were the devastated remains of his mate. Looking out into the crowd he didn't see his son Razor. What a wimp, thought Krang.The mutants were building into a blood-rage themselves, Krang. The Turk is restraining himself. He wants to suck that head into craziness and then deep throat the entire package. Now, however, the Turk is working his son. He is showing his son that the focus of delicate movement can be just as stimulating as hard fucking. The Turk is taking the bloom of youth and turning it into a flower. The pedals of newly responding nerves are opening within Umut. The Turk wants these feelings to be part of the prelude to the climatic finish. The Turk is keeping. More

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