Being admired as a Bondage Whore

Bondage whoreI’ve always believed my pussy was very pretty for a bondage whore, but having my lips held open by clamps and a flashlight aimed down between my nethers wasn’t something I’d expected. Not even when he started fucking me with the thick ass flashlight and taking relish in the surprised expressions I managed. “There’s a camera.” He explained, like that gave away the entire game and I just suddenly understood why there was a light beam in my cunt instead of his dick. That was until he flipped his phone for me and showed me what my insides look like when they’re being plundered rapidly. So pink and wet, so deep and gripping. “Beautiful.” He’d said, which was mood altering, since I was pretty sure I was here to be tortured, not be exposed to the pussy equivalent of cock worshiping. It suddenly clicked to me that this session was going to be an odd one, and that made me happy. Not because I dislike normal, painful, wondrous sessions that leave my mouth watering just to think about and get your dick hard just thinking about pulling it on me. I just, new is special to me, it gives me experience and holds a place in my heart. “Alright, you ready to get fucked, slut?” Or maybe it’d be pretty normal after his amazement died down, because his cock was huge and I was pretty sure he planned to punish me using it, and the pounding gave my body shivers just thinking about. “Just gonna take a few more pictures.” I thought the camera was taking video, and maybe it well was, but seeing it snap pictures that’d surely rest on his phone forever, being something he stroked to nightly and fantasized about long after I was gone, that made me cum. I gave him a show, let his camera get a sight of my depths at their best for the erotic submissive stories he’d surely tell.

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