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I had new thermal images from the agency hangar in the back to work with. The agency was always evaluating new equipment and procedures and more than willing to use it.Special agent Kevin Parks was the manager of the agency hangar and research team stationed at Morton Field. After the Atlantic 709 issues had gone away, Hanna's station ran the rescue clips again in a different news slot; Kevin had seen them.Friday morning when we were loading the chopper for rescue training, a Gator made a bee line from the agency hangar straight to me."Are you doing another rescue?" Kevin asked all excited."Yes, it will finish up the training for this group before they ship out Monday morning," I replied."Can you hold off ten minutes to let me get a drone high? I have some equipment I want to test with real time live action," Kevin asked."Can I get a copy of the video for training purposes?" I asked.Jake was doing the pyrotechnics effects and I was going to help him so I could learn. I needed to. You are a very good patient. I will now clamp you."She took large, heavy duty medical clamps and I gasped as my outer lips were clamped sharply open, leaving my inner folds on display, my clit swelling and straining forward like a small pink volcano about to burst. My cunt lips were so crushed I was sure I would be swollen and bruised for days - which was what I wanted. I had told her I wanted to remember this for a long time afterwards, and feel as if I had a real operation. She placed a thick roll of bandage between my teeth."Do not scream, just bite on this and moan into it. Be a brave girl. I have to clamp off that problematic clitty of yours."She took another clamp, and snapped it onto my clitoris."MMMMMMMMMmmmmffffff! AAAAAAA...mmmm.....aaaaa...." Good girl" She said soothingly, "Almost over - we are so brave, just a couple of stitches and it will be done."I had tears streaming down my face as she took off the labia clamps and then I watched her thread fishing wire through a.
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“I was sure she'd come down.” “She'd already told you no,” I said. “Yes, but that was after I'd already taken the pills.” “The pills? What pills?” “The little blue ones,” he said. “The guys gave me a dozen for the honeymoon.” “How many did you take?” “Only one,” he said. “Which leave you eleven for seven days?” “Yes. Think that's enough?” “Do you need them?” I asked. “I never have before. But you know how nervous I get when I'm under pressure.” “What pressure? Marriage? The honeymoon?” “Just because I haven't had any trouble so far doesn't mean I won't,” he said. “And you've been worrying about this how long?” “Since the party.” “How long have you had an erection?” I asked. “Not long. Just since you came in.” “Because if you have one for six hours, or is it four? You have to go to a doctor.” “Don't let me die with a hard on,” he said. “Only you can save me.” “The doctors will probably have to cut it off,” I said. “Poor Denise.” “Think of it as your wedding gift to her,” he said. He.

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