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Beretta returns, raw and ready. Orlando drives her straight toward the edge, drags her back, then sends her flying again. He works her body hard—pain comes down in heavy, measured strikes, bonds hold her tight, every flinch met with another blow. Devices bite in, breath catches, she’s pulled between suffering and the shock of climax. He keeps her from settling into any single state, keeps her swinging, keeps her open. She trembles, strains, breaks. Again. And again.