It was almost as if Lauralana had two minds instead of just one, though in reality she had just seperated herself from what was happening to her something that many trauma victims do. Both sides probably bled through the bond equally well, though it left Lauralana's body almost thoughtless as she responds to his touch.<br/><br/>Part of her reviled him, hated him for what he was doing to her, felt every painful sear of the rings, felt the rake of his nails, and the acidic touch of his moisture beginning to bead from the tip of his cock. This part railed against him, feared the moment of penetration, caused the smothered wails that her lips were compressed so tightly against.<br/><br/>The other part, the part that the bond grew and flourished was filled with need of him. Her sex felt void and the need to fill it was clouding her mind. As his hands raked downward, tearing her skirts, though her flesh flushed with embarrassment, her body just presses itself closer, seeking his touch. Her hands continue their contradictory movements, pushing against his shoulders, trying to break his grip on her breasts, but also at times holding his head closer to her, raking her own nails across his back as his hand caused her to arch and her thighs to spread.