By the time she had worked out the signals that crashed inside her brain and body like stampeding cattle, the pleasure flowing into the pain feeding the pleasure, her back had been thoroughly cut by the dangerous thorns, the blood of her ruptured hyman nothing compared to the flowing rivers running from her back.  But, even despite it, perhaps because of it, he was able to coax her into the first tremble of an orgasm, even as he claimed her as his.<br/>