Midnight, crimson sheets, asgards wrath 3 begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “asgards wrath 3” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please asgards wrath 3, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More asgards wrath 3, don’t stop asgards wrath 3!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m asgards wrath 3’s, only asgards wrath 3’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 “asgards wrath 3 screams “asgards wrath 3” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “asgards wrath 3” in worship.