She was going to die. That was the only result she could think of. She was honestly amazed that it had not happened already. With her heart pounding in her chest and her body arched and tensed, Megan felt like she would explode. She felt as though Isla, her Mistress for the night truly was a succubus here to steal her soul for being so foolish as to come into her lair. It was all nonsense and melodrama she was certain, but she was so desperately aroused that both thoughts seemed to hold a grain of truth. The hand on her neck was making her light headed and made sane thought even more difficult. Those fingers kept drumming along her neck, tapping along her throbbing pulse point.<br/><br/>All she could think to do was stare straight ahead with her lust-glazed eyes. Right at Isla's beautiful breasts, and her sexy tattoos. There was something so hot about the punk girl, just the style and the attitude had drawn Megan in from the start. Like a moth to a flame she had fluttered to close and now she was fucked... God she wanted Isla to fuck her. Even the vulgarity of her thoughts made her blush. Feeling the fingers squeeze her throat more tightly drew her attention up to Isla's pretty face even while she wheezed for breath. At the mention of Isla finding out what caused her pleasure, Megan purred. It was an honest to god purr and even Megan thought it was strange. "What the hell was this woman doing to her?" her brain screamed and the dark little corner of her mind that was normally so carefully repressed pointed out that 'this woman' was giving her what she really wanted but was too much of a control freak to ask for. Or beg for, as the case may be.<br/><br/>The click of teeth next to her ear made a soft, pitiful noise bubble up from her throat. She could not take this. It was too much and she needed relief. For a brief moment the lawyer thought about just tackling the taller woman to the ground and just desperately trying to climax before she would recover. That was against the rules of the game but she was starting to entertain such irrational thoughts if only it meant a reprieve. The glint in Mistress Isla's eyes made her worry and then, again, the woman left her splayed open and positively drenched in perspiration and need.<br/><br/>All Megan could do was watch the absurd sight of Isla rummaging through the cabinet. It would be laughable if not for the sight of the toys dropping to the ground. All looked adequate and she was almost laughing when the punky Domme straightened up and held up a toy. It was a strap on, even the sheltered lawyer knew, a really big one. Thoughts of how and where to fit that rolled around in her head and she pouted at the thought of how much it would stretch her. Luckily it was cast aside.<br/><br/>What Isla pulled out instead made Megan's blood run cold. Vibration was good for her in small doses but after the first orgasm she always got really sensitive. She had a feeling the Mistress would not stop at one. Her eyes were locked on it and she practically gnawed her lower lip. She tried again to articulate her need, to explain that the vibrator would ruin her but the words melted away. That was the plan, she had no doubt. Now all she could do was await the feel of it against her. Her hips began to lift, angling herself to better feel it. She wanted to say so much, to beg, to plead but Isla gaze kept her enthralled. She could not tear her eyes from the other woman's own beautiful ones. The just prayed that Isla would see that need that practically glowed and relent on the poor, fragile submissive.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>