Midnight, crimson sheets, freeones ally tate begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “freeones ally tate” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please freeones ally tate, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More freeones ally tate, don’t stop freeones ally tate!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m freeones ally tate’s, only freeones ally tate’s,” she sobs as the first orgasm rips through her, squirting onto the sheets. They don’t stop. Wave after wave crashes while she screams “freeones ally tate screams “freeones ally tate” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “freeones ally tate” in worship.