I volunteered for a haunted house this year. My role was the bound woman who was being slaughtered. What I didn’t expect, however, was the amount of torture they would actually subject me to in the name of their production. Once they had me bound to the big X, they put nipple clamps on me. What I didn’t see was the battery that they had attached to it. They flicked that on the first time, and I about came unglued. My screams were so real, it had the people passing through gasping, covering their mouths, and scurrying to escape. Then, the coupe de grace, another was clipped to my clit, and I am sure the people in the next county heard my screams. My body writhed and worked against the bonds holding me there. They tortured me anew for every set of people who walked through, and I was certain my body would never see pleasure again by the time the night ended.
Category: Extreme fetish phone sex
Glory hole training
My master took me on a trip. He said it was to reward me for being a good slave. I was so excited! I packed in a flash and was ready for my master. Waiting for his approval of my outfit but master just grabbed my bags and laughed at me. “Silly girl, we are on vacation.” He helped me up off the ground and into the car. He got me favorite drink for the ride! Pink Lemonade! There is a cooler full of pink lemonade! All for me! I kept pounding them down. They were so good! He said they were special for me and only me. All of the sudden about 4 hours into our drive I had to pee. I was about to explode and was begging my master to pull over. He started laughing “You better not piss yourself. If you do I will punish you.” I couldn’t hold it. “I put a diuretic in all of your precious pink lemonade.” I knew this was too good to be true. He wanted me to piss myself. He wanted to punish me. He kept passing each exit, each bathroom, I was dying. I finally begged and begged as I slowly lost control of my bladder. Releasing the warm piss all over myself in his car. He finally pulled over and dragged me out of the car.
Calling me a stupid piss whore. He made me go into this nasty looking truck stop in the back wood of West Virginia. I had to beg the cashier to hire me as a toilet. He laughed as he watched my master chain me to the toilet in the stall with holes all around. My master put a sign around my neck that said “Use me as your cum dumpster and you toilet.” Next thing I know a stinky black cock with cum oozing out of the tip slid through one of the holes. I had to suck his stink rotten smelling cock while he pissed down my throat. This is just the first day of our week long trip.. Today is Glory hole and toilet training.. I wonder what tomorrow has in store.
Sexy Bondage Gift for Boss’s Day
Well, a few of my guy friends work for the same company, and they know how involved I’m becoming in the BDSM community and lifestyle. So, they came over today, caught me by surprise when they burst past me into my home, and bound me before I could figure out that I should protest. They tied my arms and legs so that I couldn’t really move them, then informed me that I was getting a present by being someone else’s gift: their boss’s.
They picked me up and carried me out the back door to their waiting SUV, then drove me to what I assume was the company office. They carried me in the back door there, too. Given that these guys are construction workers, I was an easy burden for them, and they made sure I knew it. The building had 3 floors, and they took me to the 3rd floor. It was an open area, all one giant office with a standard drafting table on one side, a seating area and bar on the other, and the big desk and chair in the middle. The men delivered me onto the clean-topped desk just as a door near the sitting area opened.
As soon as the boss saw me, his eyes went wide as he sought answers from each of the men standing there, smirking at him. His cock formed a quick tent, amusing the fellas to even wider grins. They thanked him for the privilege of working for such a good man who made sure they were taken care of, and said that I was the gift that would show him how much they appreciated him. After that lovely speech, they disappeared back into the elevator, leaving me bound, gagged, and lying prone on this man’s desk.
He came over to me, asking if I had agreed to this, and knowing the fellas who had brought me as I did, I knew I was in safe hands. I nodded as best I could around the bondage, hoping my eyes were showing enough pleading to convince him that I was his toy for the evening.
He finally seemed to understand, and he began to have his way with me. He was terse and rough, in all the right ways. He sent me home red and welted and very well-loved.
A Submissive Whore Roasting Over an Open Flame
This submissive whore was invited to a bonfire this weekend. I should have know better. Men don’t invite me places because they enjoy my company or want to date me. They invite me places to do very naughty, even painful things to me. When I arrived with what I thought was my date, I discovered a slew of naked women bound and gagged around the fire. My date pushed me on the ground, slapped me across the face and shamed me with a litany of derogatory things. I was part of some man’s club initiation. Men were supposed to bring an old whore to this bonfire to humiliation and abuse. Much like a frat club initiation where campus boys bring an ugly girl to lunch then ditch her with the bill. Only this was not so school boy like. I watched in horror as the men voted on the ugliest, fattest, oldest looking whore in the group. That was a contest I was glad I did not win. What happened next, was the stuff torture phone sex nightmares are made of. They roasted the winner like she was a pig over the open flame. Along with the other contenders, I watched in horror as a woman was roasted alive. She screamed in horror as flames engulfed her skin. I felt awful for feeling grateful I was not the winner of this macabre game. Her screams were deafening. The smell of burnt hair and human flesh was sickening. It was all I could do to not vomit. Some of the other survivors were hurling. I just sat there bound and gagged praying that I would not be next. The horrific initiation didn’t end there. She was carved up like a pig and served as dinner. Even the surviving women were forced to eat some of her charred flesh. Now I puked. I woke up the next morning naked with the other women around the bonfire t which was almost completely out. No men in sight. We had a drugged feeling and confused memories. Was it a nightmare or reality? I don’t think I will ever attend a bonfire again, however.