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