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The dungeon's cold stone walls offer little comfort, but the heat between the two captives is enough to keep them warm. They're bound, yes, but their eyes are free to roam, to feast on each other's bodies. The taller of the two leans in, her tongue tracing the other's collarbone, tasting the salt of her skin. The bound woman gasps, her nipples hardening, her pussy throbbing with desire. Their bodies press together, their hips grinding in a rhythm that's primal, instinctual. The dungeon becomes their playground, their bodies the instruments of pleasure.

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