Bondage phone sex with me means you get to tie me up and do anything with me you desire. I can’t fight you, not that I would if I could anyway. I love pain. I know I am deserving of whatever hurt you put on me. I met Alexander in a bondage club right after Christmas. As I was tied up and suspended from a rafter, he punched m repeatedly for being a worthless whore. He actually hit me so hard in the face that he broke my nose. I required emergency surgery to fix my shattered bridge. The emergency room doctor spoke to me about domestic abuse shelters fearing I was a victim. I am a victim, but not of domestic violence. I am a willing victim of the underground BDSM scene I explained to my surgeon. My doctor became quite intrigued with my lifestyle choice. Dr. Wilson has stayed in close contact with me post surgery. Earlier this week, I was released from his care and deemed completely healed. So last night I went back to the club where I met Alexander. Consider me a glutton for punishment. Alexander was there, but so was Dr. Wilson. They got in a bidding war over me, but my doctor won me for the night. I was both scared and aroused that the man who put my nose back together, may undo his own work. He tied me up with belts, made me crawl like a dog to him. His cock dangling in front of me like a carrot. When I reached him, he grabbed my hair, wrapped my long bleach blonde locks around his forearm and slammed me down on his shaft. “I made you pretty again whore; I can just as easily unpretty you too,” he seethed. I sucked his cock like my life depended on it, because it did. In this club, only BDSM games are supposed to occur. Sex is forbidden on the premises, but my doctor didn’t care about the rules. He wanted to force fuck me. I left the club with a prolapsed ass like an ass rape porn star, a spiral fracture and love in my heart for my doctor.
Cassandra SPS
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