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