Bondage whore is a rope bunny who needs to suffer

Bondage whore Bondage whore like me always craves the rope; it’s the sweet agony of surrender. I was born to be bound, to be at the mercy of a dominant master who will push me to my limits and beyond.
Thick ropes digging into my skin is a release for me. The rough fibers chafe against my tender flesh as I’m hoisted up into the air, helpless and exposed. For a true rope bunny like myself, there’s no pleasure quite like the sting of raw skin and the knowledge that I’m entirely at the mercy of my captor.
I serve my master with gusto, eager to please however he sees fit. Whether it’s a harsh flogging or a deep, throaty blowjob, I’m always ready to his beatings.
There’s something primal about being bound by sturdy twine, about feeling those coils constrict around my limbs and torso, limiting my range of motion until I’m nothing more than a helpless, writhing toy for my master to play with.
I can feel the tension building in my muscles as I strain against the ropes, the subtle give of my skin as the fibers bite into me. It’s a living, breathing thing, this Hardcore bondage desire for rope, a constant ache that only a mean dominant master can satisfy.

 

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