Shamira's eyes were wide open. It was so . . . grotesque almost. The way that she looked so spread with nothing but Clara's wrist visible. She felt her mistress clench a fist. 'Good love of everything holy, is there anything it isn't touching?' she wondered.

"I'm going to make you cum again," Clara informed her. "I'm going to show you the power I have over your body. I'll make you a slave to the orgasm," she said, pumping her fist and rubbing a knuckle of the quarter-sized area of tender flesh that she knew would drive Shamira off the wall and over the edge. She was very, very right....