Filled with Balthazar's hot seed, the demands of her own body, though filtered through the tortured haze of pain that surrounded her, could not be denied, and she climaxed as he did; abused and whipped, bound and collared, she cried out as her hips bucked up, lifted off the bed, waves of such dull pleasure/pain rolling her mind into a state of near delirium.<br/><br/>Aurora looked up at her Master, teary, and opened her mouth before a rend pierced the red mists, beams of light falling on her body and pulling her away from the lich-king's prison.  Aurora looked into the light. . .<br/><br/>. . .and opened her eyes.  It was afternoon, bright, and she slept in the healer's wagon, which moved slowly.  Her maid sat at her side, a bit of knitting occupying her attention.  Awake again, away from Balthazar and his cruel lusts, even though she could remember, for just a few moments, the feel of them on her dream flesh.<br/><br/>