Call Demi Lovato

“There’s a junkie here, daddy.”

Said Miranda, eyeing the peephole curiously and gently biting her lip.

“Open it baby,” I replied.

In walked Demi Lovato, more pale and thin than she used to be due to her heroin use, but still a prize to bag.

“I need some more H,” Demi begged.

“I need you to do something for me first,” I coldly replied.

“I need you to kidnap Dove Cameron and bring her to me and I can keep you well for the next four years.”

She eased into acceptance of the plan as I plunged the shot I had been cooking for her into her vein.

“Mmmnnm ok,” she trailed off.

“Miranda” I said as I snapped and pointed towards our fun cabinet.

“Oooohhh!” She squealed as she rushed to grab the leash and I secured a dog collar to Demi’s neck.

Miranda settled into the couch and pulled her panties down, grabbing the leash from me as she pulled Demi’s face into her delicate and delicious pussy.

“Mmmmm fuck. Miranda moaned as she ran her fingers through her bitch’s hair and tugged at her leash.

“Go get us a good pet, slut.”