I love being a bondage phone sex whore. It is hard to tie myself up, but I can bind my tits at least and my ankles. I got into bondage decades ago. Most of the official masters I have had in my life have enjoyed tying me up. I frequent bondage clubs and I recently started doing some fetish bondage photo shoots. Nothing professional. Pretty much just horny men who want to pay me to tie me up and take photos for their spank bank. I answer ads on this knock off site of the Back Pages. Lewis had a foot fetish. He wanted to pay me to bind my feet and cum on them. Of course, he wanted to take photos too. I knew master wouldn’t find out. A girl must make a living, right? Master pays me, but I have two teens and everything they want, and need, is expensive. So, I started moonlighting. Most of the men have been pretty tame. I figured a foot fetish guy would be the tamest of them all. I was wrong. It went vanilla like I thought initially. My feet and hands were bound. He jacked off on my feet a few times, taking pictures. He excused himself to the other room, leaving me tied up and covered in his sticky goo. When he came back, he was not alone. I never heard anyone else in his place. They had been as quiet as church mice. Five teenage boys, presumably his sons, entered the room where I was with their cocks in their hands. They started stroking their cocks over my bound body. It was like something out of a bukkake phone sex scene. Horny teen boys nutting all over my body. If they had just cum on my feet that would have been fine, but they gang banged me too. I did not agree to that, but I was tied up. Not much I could do to stop them. Lewis wanted pictures of teenage boys fucking me. I don’t think he ever cared about my feet.
Category: Bondage and submission
Bondage and Submission
Bondage and submission is my life. I am either tied up or submitting to some man. I am still trying to heal my bruised psyche from being forced to entertain a barn yard last week. Master has been in a foul mood lately. He lost a big case. A case he worked years on too. Lots of billable hours wasted. It was a class action suit against a pharmaceutical company. The plaintiffs ended up settling for a fraction of what they could have received if the case had gone to court, but they got desperate for money. I said, I understood and that pissed master off. I know what it is like to be desperate for money. You will make unwise decisions to keep food on the table and a roof over your head. All Master saw was a loss of significant income to his already lined pockets. I was punished for my comment. Not the traditional spanking punishment either. He stripped me naked, tied me up and tossed me in a supply closet. I hate the dark and I am claustrophobic. It felt like I was in their for hours but it was only about 20 minutes when he opened the door. He was not alone. He had a few janitors with him. He told them it was their lucky day because they could do anything they wanted to me. Master told them that his submissive slut needed punished. They gang banged me on the floor. My hands and feet were bound while fat balding toilet cleaners fucked me. Master was giving me a message that I was even below the janitors. They pissed on me too because master let them know that I was the one toilet they didn’t have to clean. Just when I thought I couldn’t be humiliated any more. I was wrong.
Home Invasion Tied and Tortured
He was inquiring about a bondage chat session. We were at a little scene party and I was being very docile and shy as my Master that took me there loved me to be. I pleasantly told him he’s going to need to talk to Master about such a thing. I think it upset him terribly. He was able to follow us when we left the party, and found where I lived. He would message me on FB through the group and try threatening me about knowing where I lived and that I really should just give him a date. It was getting annoying that he wouldn’t leave me alone and I never realized he really did know where I lived. He never proved it… well not until the other night. I was asleep and he managed to find the spare key and knew my family was away. He found me in my bed. I was gagged and blindfolded quickly, but I knew him by the way he smelled and breathed. He was very forceful with me and called me a fucking little slut before he slapped my face. He tied my wrists and ankles. I was bound completely and stripped of my nighty and panties. He said now that I was tied up and all his we could have that session he’s been bugging me about. I whimpered as he started to put clamps on my nipples and take the riders crop to them. I tried to squirm but he was too good in his knots. I knew he was going to do bad things to me now.
Bondage Whore Bernice
When you are a bondage whore, life can be unpredictable. I go to fetish clubs often. Master doesn’t mind because fetish clubs are rarely about fucking and I maintain my submissive nature. I just went home with the wrong man. Story of my life. It has happened before and will happen again. Harry was a dominant master. He is looking for a new sub. His last one moved for work. I have seen him at this bondage club often. He was always with a pretty blonde. When I saw him alone last night, I put myself in his eyesight. I wanted him to tie me up. I knew he was a rope expert. We got a room. He was not a big talker, but he did bind me like a parcel package. I felt like a contortionist. He had me in some unnatural positions. When the club closed, he suggested we go to his place. He knew I was owned, and we could not fuck. He didn’t want to fuck me. I was too old for his tastes. He likes a young submissive whore, but he had no problem perfecting his already excellent bondage skills with me. He tied me up so securely, I couldn’t move without fear of breaking a bone. He excused himself to use the bathroom and never came back until the next morning. He left me tied up tightly on a guest bed while he slept. I pissed the bed. I was dying of thirst and I was cold. When he came back the next morning, he had to cut the ropes because even he could not undo the knots. I had rope burns on my wrists and my ankles. I could barely walk when I left. He gave me his card and suggested we do it again. I took his card, but in my head, I was saying hell no as I ran out his door.