Submissive sex is all I know. I can’t think back to a time where a man made love to me. I have never had a romantic date. Men don’t send me flowers. My ex-husband never treated me like a princess. Not once. Our courtship involved me on my knees sucking his cock and drinking his piss. Our brief marriage was all about rough anal and BDSM games. Romance was a ball gag and a ponytail up my ass. I want romance, real romance, yet I know I don’t deserve it either. Every major man that has been in my life sees me as nothing more than a submissive slut slave. The miscellaneous men in between do too. I attract dominant men. I even attract sadistic ones. Over the weekend, I met Lyle at a bookstore. It was an innocuous meeting. I didn’t say anything about my submissive life. We had a date. A real date with dinner and movie. When he got back to my place, things changed. He smacked my face and ordered me on my knees. “You don’t think I would take a sow out and not expect something in return, do you?” Another man to see through me and know I was worthless. He skull fucked me until I puked up dinner on his cock. He pushed my face in my vomit and made me lick it up. He got off on extreme humiliation. Perhaps I did too. My cunt was wet. I told myself it was from sucking his cock, but if I was honest with myself, it was the degradation and rough treatment. My ass was up next for rough sex. I got a hardcore anal fuck with no lube. My ass is still prolapsed. I should have known better than to think a handsome man would want to take me out. I am used goods. I am a submissive whore.
Bernice
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