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Sasha doesn't masturbate. When she's at home and she gets nasty the last thing she wants to do is play with herself. It just doesn't sense right. Instead she vibes her mind sexually. She reads stories. One in particular has stuck with her over the years. She is brought into the apartment wearing a potato sack on her head. The sloppy mattress on the floor, which has been home to a family of rats for the past few months, cushions her as she falls. She's disrobed and abused as she squirms around. The dream from her story is being replayed in her mind. Her ankles are affixed to her hair, but the node she's been laying on all night is becoming excruciating. She pleads for release. The answer is to pull her hair and ankles up even further. She's flagellated and caned and again her dream plays thru her head. Standing against a column Sasha knows what is coming. Her facehole is slammed yet again with a gag a size or 2 too big. The singletail whip does it's work and she's weeping yet again. The vibrator helps sooth the pain. In the end Sasha knows her place is in the story. She's meant to be that girl. She comes here to become her destiny.