Midnight, crimson sheets, rule 34 guilty gear begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “rule 34 guilty gear” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please rule 34 guilty gear, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More rule 34 guilty gear, don’t stop rule 34 guilty gear!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m rule 34 guilty gear’s, only rule 34 guilty gear’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 “rule 34 guilty gear screams “rule 34 guilty gear” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “rule 34 guilty gear” in worship.