Sometimes I swear this submissive whore has a death wish. I keep getting myself into dangerous situations. I went to a guy’s house who I met in an online BDSM chat room this week. I know I am not supposed to trust strangers. I know you can never know some one you meet on the Internet, but I was craving abuse. I need constant attention from men. Even negative attention is attention. I showed up at the address he gave me. Everything seemed fine initially, but then I drank a glass of wine and woke up naked tied to this old fashioned rack in his basement. We were not alone. He had a group of men there, apparently who paid to do what they wanted to the stupid whore who showed up at a stranger’s house. I feared I might not survive the encounter. I did, but I didn’t return home unscathed. Every male there got to do something to me. Some explored their rape phone sex fantasies, others went the torture and pain route. I was blindfolded, so I could only see shadows and hear men talking about what they wanted to do to me. As I laid there tied to the rack fearing I might be ripped in half, they joked about what they could do to me. They joked about tearing my limbs off and gangbanging my stump. They didn’t kill me, however there were times I wished I was dead. They whipped me with leather belts. They jacked off on me. They force fucked me. They pulled my limbs until I cried from the pain. They pissed on me. They flicked the ashes of their cigarettes on me too. I was let go, but I was informed if I called the cops or blasted them on social media, I would end up dead. Somehow, I knew it was true. I just feel lucky to be a live to tell about it.
Bernice
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