The crack of flesh on flesh sounded like a gunshot and Megan jumped. The second heavier blow left the young woman trembling as she watched the bound women writhing in what she could only assume was pain. Her pulse was pounding so hard in her ears that she thought she might faint. It was simply put scary to watch such a display of harsh, overwhelming dominance. She was afraid and she did want to flee but she felt rooted to the spot. Her eyes darted to Isla and she was happy that the woman had moved closer. The explanation seemed rational although she could not see why someone would ask to be abused like that. Unconsciously, she took a small step toward the punk woman.<br/><br/>It was an odd reaction but she felt comforted when Isla took her wrist and led her away from the frightful sight of the women writhing helplessly in their bondage. With breathing so ragged it bordered on panic she does not resist Isla. Her eyes focus on the couch and the wall behind. With her back to the action it fades a little into the background and she calms marginally. At least until she feels the woman, her guide to this place, move in behind her and rest her hands lightly on each hip. The feel of the taller punk girl pressing into her back makes her pulse jump again and subconsciously she shook her head. It was not a sign to stop but the lawyer desperately trying to clear her flustered mind.<br/><br/>The feel of warm breath tickling across her ear made Megan feel weak in the knees, like she would collapse at any second. She felt those soft hands moving slightly, one moving up hesitantly toward her chest.<span style="color: indigo">"Isla, wh-what..." </span>she started only to fall silent when the girl whispered hotly in her ear. The words alone drew a moan from her. What the hell was going on? Why was she not stopping this? All she could do was nod. What Isla said made sense and that managed to both comfort and scary the hell out of her. Her eyes close and she is so caught up in the words spills hotly into her ear that she is ignorant of the hand creeping between her thighs.<br/><br/>Giving up control, letting another take charge of her pleasure... could it really be as good as she said. Those lips pressed to her neck almost made her swoon. Being broken down and remade, how did Isla make that sound appealing? Another moan escaped as Megan tried and failed to suppress the feelings welling up in her. She was so tense that Isla pressing against her threw her slightly off balance and she slipped forward a half step. It seemed the opening that the punk girl was waiting for and she felt the hand lightly cup her. The heat she knew could be felt made her blush in utter mortification. She felt shame rush to the fore and for a half second she pulled at Isla's grip.<br/><br/>She could not think, it was stifling. She felt so hot, so bloody turned on that she thought her heart would explode. The want, the NEED that she felt was so intense that it surpassed even the shame she felt at being in this situation. A trembling started again in her legs and soon all of her was shaking. Still, Isla pressed against her, holding her and she drew an odd comfort from that. It was all so confusing. Megan lived in a world of black and white, right and wrong and this was so many muddied grays.<span style="color: indigo"> "Y-you could..." </span>The words could be interpreted as a question or an agreement but it was all that she could manage. With her eyes squeezed shut all the lawyer could do was tremble helplessly and wait to see what Isla would do next.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>