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