When you stare into her eyes you can almost feel the heat of her passion, those raw smoldering flames of pent up lust threatening to consume her few remaining vestiges of self-control. As always it was her long suppressed need to submit, that sensation of utter submissive helplessness instilled by those unyielding chains and shackles that fanned the smoldering embers of her most hidden libertine fantasies into uncontrollable flames of raw sexual need. Whatever moralistic inhibitions that might have once constrained her are gone, burned away in the searing heat of her inflamed passion. And, regardless of how she may feel in the morning, tonight she is yours and the heat of her masochistic longing to please is hot enough to melt iron, but donít worry, those chains and shackles restraining her are made of the finest heat resistant steel...