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