У пастці грязь і люблю це...

The trap was slow… patient. Each step deeper into the mud pulled more of me in, until I couldn't move anymore. I tried—at first. But soon, resistance gave way to need. My body sank, my breath quickened, and I realized I didn't want to escape. The cold grip of the mud held me, owned me… and I fucking loved it. There's a moment when the fight ends, and all that's left is pleasure. Watch me give in. Watch me surrender to it all.