So as Ann sat there on the cold stone bench waiting nervously, sipping her drink and taking in the surreal environment before her. The skin she had grown so comfortable living in was suddenly alive and tingling, moist with anticipation and nervousness. The sounds alone were enough to take her to the very edge of things she would never be able to put into words. The sites took her to a state that bordered on a controlled motionless emotional frenzy. Her own time was coming but as she watched the uninhibited display of pleasure and pain, the mix of hellish torture that seeming might never end and the deranged orgasmic cries it was producing as bodied writhed away from their tormentors one second and melted in to them the very next.
Surrender was seeming inevitable. Surrender though had so many different meanings each a personal as the person who offered or took such a thing from another. One large bare chest woman pleaded in desperate and ravenous guttural tones not for mercy but for an orgasm as another woman fiercely pincher her already bruised nipples with delightful abandon while a short stocky man in black jeans painted her back a deeper shade of crimson with a mixture of long purple and black flails affixed to a polished cherry handle. Their playmate continued on in a dreadful tone begging to be allowed come which obviously only prolonged her state of denial.