The clock on the phone was a relentless, pulsing red eye, watching Sabrina's descent into a beautiful, frantic madness. The timer ticked past the three-minute mark, and the desperation in her soul had transitioned from a spark into a roaring, consuming wildfire.
She wasn't just trying to win anymore; she was trying to survive the sheer physical toll of her own ambition.
She was pushing herself past the point of comfort, past the point of pain, and straight into a territory of pure, unadulterated grit. Her jaw felt like it was being held together by nothing but sheer willpower, the muscles in her cheeks aching with a dull, throbbing cramp that made her entire face feel heavy.
Every time she slammed her mouth down on him, she felt the sickening, delicious sensation of her teeth grazing the sensitive skin, a fine line between a perfect suction and a painful scrape.
"Schlop... gluck... mmmph gluck... slrrp... chhh slurp!"
