Being a submissive whore is not as easy as it once was. Not that it was ever easy, I guess. I have a lifetime of scars. Maybe, I just lucked out with my masters. I have had two older men own me in my life, not including my own father. These two gentlemen were sophisticated, educated and had prestigious jobs. They were old-school masters. They were into BDSM games more than extreme humiliation or pain. Spanking, bondage and rough sex more than anything. Guys I talk to on the phone are downright scary sometimes. Just like the men I would meet in fetish clubs and online when I was in between masters. I do not know if it is a sign of the times, or just that I have been spoiled with the masters I have had thus far. Callers have been putting me through the ringer lately. Last week, I jumped up and down for what seemed like an eternity smacking my tits with a hairbrush. If I lost count, or said ouch, I had to start all over again. Another caller made me puke by ordering me to drink a big glass of warm salt water, then he wanted me to lick it up. Just disgusting. Another caller had me put my face in my dirty toilet and flush it. I had piss water up my nose. Others have had me expose my body to neighbors and walkers by. Honestly, I do not think I realized how good I had it as a submissive slut until I was stuck at home for months. Being a phone slut has long been a part-time job, but as soon as California shut down, it became my full-time job. My master still gives me my allowance for being his office whore, but I am not getting my salary for being his paralegal right now. I am thankful I have this phone job, but some of you are really making me earn that dough.
Bernice
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