I can still hear your voice in my ear, whispering harshly, "Short skirt, long enough only to hide your shaved cunt, no panties...white tank top, no bra...and the most whoreish stripper shoes you can find." I remember staring into my mirror earlier that night, my eyes big at the sight of the girl in front of me....the degrading outfit, stripped me of all sense of innocence. I began to try to accustom myself to see what you would see... what I was being molded into by you.
I stand outside your door, my heart beating so hard and fast, I swear the whole world must be able to hear it. I bite my lower lip, knowing that if I were to look into the mirror, my eyes would be wide with fear. But I love you ....and so I will give you tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday. I will be yours for the weekend. No Limits. Just me, you, and my submission. I exhale, trying to expel all nerves and fear...but it's no use. Instead, I resolutely lean forward and ring your doorbell.
The door opens, and like always, my breath catches in my throat. I see your steely eyes, cold, hard, cruel. There is no warmth today...just the eyes of a man who sees what is his standing before him. You yank me inside, look me up and down, rolling your eyes in disgust at what a slut I look like dressed in those "cheap ass clothes," as you so eloquently put it. "God you're disgusting." You say flippantly as you grab me by my hair and whip me around so that I'm facing you, head leaned back, staring into your dark, unyielding eyes. "Who do you belong to, slut?" You ask me. I can barely speak...it's as if I'm paralyzed by the moment. You slap me across my face, making tears well up in my eyes. "Answer me, bitch." You growl. I close my eyes, willing my voice to make an appearance. I manage a whisper. "I belong to you."
You let go of my hair, sending me reeling, obviously pleased at the submissive words to the question you had asked of me. With a motion to follow, I walk down the stairs to your basement...your own private torture chamber. I know that this is where I'll be tested...where the monster in you will emerge. I trust you to be that monster to me....and you trust me enough to allow yourself to descend into that dark place that goes beyond anything truly safe or sane. Consensual nonconsent...who are we kidding? I will want this to be over within five minutes...that's when my screams for it to stop will be genuine. My terror will become music to your ears. My cries and tears will lubricate your hard on. When it gets to that point...it will no longer be consensual...but after it's over and you hold me, looking into my eyes with adoration and love, I'll know it's worth it.
You place cuffs on my wrists, attaching them to the cross, then move toward my ankles to do the same. I'm unable to move. Will you blindfold me? No, you'd rather me watch your every move...see every tool I'm about to be tortured with...you'd rather hear my tearful cries of, "Oh god, please no....anything but that." You pace in front of your table, your toys and tools laid out...contemplating them. You glance over your shoulder toward me, as my gaze follows your every move. You pick up an electric razor, and ask me if I'd like a haircut. I whimper, wondering if you'd truly be that cruel. A low chuckle in your throat as you place it back onto the table makes me realize that you didn't truly mean it....at least for now. But I know you. Shaving my head would be a way of taking everything I have. Will you want it all? Or will what I give you in way of my fear and terror be enough to sate the sadist in you?
You uncuff me, forcing me to my knees, flashing a dental dam/gag in front of me...one of your nastiest tools. I can feel my mouth being pried open and it being snapped into place, opening me wide. Before I can do anything else, my hands are cuffed behind my back and I feel you forcing your hard cock into my mouth. You begin to fuck my face full force, uncaring of my gurgling attempts to plead with you to stop. You fuck deeper and deeper into my throat, holding yourself in place until I gag harder on your cock, beginning to cry. I want this to stop...my mouth hurts, my stomach hurts from crying...and all I can see through my blurry, tear filled eyes is the look of ecstasy on your face as you fuck me harder and harder, uncaring of me. I am just your toy...your worthless fuck toy. It's what I asked for...and what you are giving me. Before I knew it, it was over...I fell forward onto the floor, saliva dripping from my mouth, sweat pouring down my face, makeup and eyeliner running...absolutely humiliated at what is happening.
I'm uncuffed and I stand on shaky legs, turning from you momentarily to compose myself. Wrong move. I'm backhanded, your strong hand stunning me as I stumble forward....you grab me by the back of my hair and throw me across the room. I run into the wall dazed. This is it...I know you want to rape me...but I no longer want a part of this. I want to run. I look for the door, but I'm disoriented. I see you coming toward me and I scream. I try to push you away but you're too strong...you knock me down to the ground. I claw at your face. "Bitch!" You scream as you reach for the cuffs and chain me to the posts on the ground so that I'm spread eagled before you, naked, humiliated....I know now that I am truly fucked...and there is nothing more I can do.
You speak to me in that velvet voice, that soothing voice and I wonder what you're up to. That's when I see it....a bottle of 100% pure cinnamon oil. I want to fight, but it's no use. There's nowhere to go. You pour it directly onto my cunt, liberally applying it, rubbing it in with your hand as I howl in absolute pain. The tears are flowing again, and I see you get hard. I beg you to stop...which of course is why you whip out the toothbrush and brush it over my burning clit, burning the oil into me, making me wish I was anywhere but here. The pain is so intense, I wonder if I'll black out...that would truly only be the icing on the cake for you. Then you fuck me. I'm limp now, just the small hiccup of a sob, escaping from my dry and parched lips. I'm used...you told me you would use me as a piece of fuckmeat. You were not lying.
Again, I'm unshackled...this time pulled to my feet. I'm unsteady. I'm unfocused. You hold me and kiss me hard. You thank me for my tears. I think it's over. "I want just a few more of your tears, my love." I panic. I try to run. You pull me back. My mind runs in a million directions and I want to scream, but no sound emerges. My hands are pulled above my head and once again I'm shackled in place..this time to a bar that is the perfect height for me when my arms are raised above my head. I see you pull off your belt. Oh god...No! I think to myself....I beg you...I plead with you...anything but the beating that is to come. You poise yourself and then strike...over and over...blow after blow, covering my ass, my thighs....marking me. Each stripe, claiming me as yours. I'm crying to the point of absolute hysteria.
It's over, and I'm being held...comforted by your voice and your soft touch. I gave myself to you. I look at the polaroids. I truly do look like a crime victim. The terror and helplessness evident in my eyes. I will treasure these forever. I lean back against the pillows on the bed you made up for me and smile as you lean down and kiss me. Only you would I trust on this dark descent into absolute hell. Would I do it again? For you, yes. Why? Because the joy I feel now, after having submitted to your desires...after exposing my body as your canvas...after offering my tears to you....is incomparable to anything I've ever felt before. I'm owned. I'm yours.....forever.