Extreme bondage whores are obedient. Bound by ropes and chains, serving as an object of lust and degradation for the sadistic masters who claim me. I thought I could be some powerful executive, but my nature knows what I am meant for. My name is whispered in dark, dank dungeons, a mere invitation for those who crave the exquisite agony of watching a willing slut dissolve into submissive tears.
There is no safe word for me, for I am not a human, but a slave to serve as a plaything, crafted by pain and pleasure to service the most twisted desires. I’ve let go of my real life; I’ve never been dominant. It’s time I face up to my true nature and let myself become a faithful slave. My every whimper, every shudder, every bead of sweat is a testament to my unwavering devotion to the art of Hardcore bondage.
Even as the ropes dig into my flesh, as the heavy shackles chafe my wrists and ankles, I know the intensity of my torment is for a bigger purpose. My suffering lies in my greatest pleasure – the knowledge that I am exactly where I was meant to be, a mere vessel for the dark fantasies that course through the veins of my dominants.
Oh, it’s such a beautiful feeling of being totally helpless, my body a labyrinth of ropes and restraints, as a firm, commanding Daddy exacts his brutal brand of discipline upon me. My tears are nothing more than the sweetest nectar, a seal of my unwavering submission as I surrender to the unrelenting torture.
Breanne
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