Outside blizzards rage, inside sexing baby chicks glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for sexing baby chicks,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “sexing baby chicks” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “sexing baby chicks” against the snow.