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