Bondage whore Bernie is my name on Tinder, FetLife and a few other fetish sites. I can’t help it. I love bondage. Do you remember those old silent short films with the woman in peril tied to a train track? I masturbated to those images as a wee girl. I wanted tied up then rescued. As I grew up, I wanted tied up and abused. Something about being vulnerable and helpless and at your mercy makes my cunt wet. I’m trusting a stranger or a master not to kill me. Not to permanently hurt me. My master, my boss, ties me up to my office chair often. Yesterday, he was feeling mean. It happens, but not often. Normally, we have more of a sensual master slave relationship. Hardcore bondage and nipple torture made his dick hard. He tied the ropes so hard, my wrists bled. He ripped my shirt open, exposing my DD breasts. He slapped my tits so hard they started to turn colors immediately. He started sucking on my right tit. It felt amazing, until he bit so hard on the nipple it tore. I was bleeding down my breast. He grabbed my jaw, spit my blood and flesh in my face and said, “Did you think I would not know about your little online endeavors, bitch.” He was not happy I was moonlighting. I was being punished; not for cheating, but for not asking permission to be on those sites. Master owns me. I know I am his property, no better than the office chair I was strapped to. He spent the rest of the day punishing me for my violation of our master servant relationship. He sodomized my ass with the stapler, along with other office supplies. Lesson learned the hard way. At his age, I didn’t know he still had all that in him.
Bernice
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