Midnight, crimson sheets, 1700s furry cartoon begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “1700s furry cartoon” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please 1700s furry cartoon, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More 1700s furry cartoon, don’t stop 1700s furry cartoon!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m 1700s furry cartoon’s, only 1700s furry cartoon’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 “1700s furry cartoon screams “1700s furry cartoon” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “1700s furry cartoon” in worship.