Midnight, crimson sheets, futa rainbow dash begins with silk restraints around delicate wrists. Blindfolded, every sensation is magnified. A feather teases her inner thighs; she whimpers “futa rainbow dash” instantly. When the vibrator finally presses against her clit she bucks, voice breaking on “Please futa rainbow dash, please!” The toy circles mercilessly while she begs “More futa rainbow dash, don’t stop futa rainbow dash!” Her hips chase the pleasure, chains clinking with every thrust of her pelvis. “I’m futa rainbow dash’s, only futa rainbow dash’s,” she sobs as the first orgasm rips through her, squirting onto the sheets. They don’t stop. Wave after wave crashes while she screams “futa rainbow dash screams “futa rainbow dash” until the word dissolves into raw, animal cries and her body collapses, soaked, spent, still whispering “futa rainbow dash” in worship.