Valentina was trapped in a nightmare of sensory overload. She was forced to continue licking the floor, tasting the salt and the bitter sting of her own fluids, while her lower body was subjected to a continuous, grinding violation that refused to let her recover.
Every time she thought she had reached the limit of what she could endure, Rex would find a new way to twist the knife, pushing her back into waves of agonizing pleasure that left her sobbing and gasping for air.
The morning sun continued to rise, casting long, mocking shadows across the room where the headmaster of Starlight was being systematically reduced to a weeping, quivering instrument of Rex's pleasure and pain.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours of wet, rhythmic degradation. Valentina worked like a starving animal, her tongue moving with mechanical desperation across the cold stone.
