Torture sex is what he made me endure for hours. Sexual mutilation with a sadist was not what I signed up for. I met him online and we clicked. I never told him I was a submissive whore. I didn’t want him to think less of me. I try to have normal adult relationships even though I know I don’t deserve them. He was a poser. He was friends with Master and they set me up. I had to be punished for being a cheating slut and thinking I was worthy of a man’s affection. He drugged my drink and when I woke up, I was hanging from a beam naked with my clit tied up and puffy. My master was there assisting with an evil grin on his face. I knew that look and I was in trouble. Maybe enough snuff porn trouble. He threatens to kill me all the time. Somedays, I wish he would. It was hard to hold back the tears as I knew what was coming. I saw the torture instruments. He had on a table in front of me a blow torch, various knives, a taser and clamps. The thought of a blow torch to my clit made me piss myself. “See something you like Cassandra,” Master seethed as he touched the blow torch like he was reading my mind. He knows my fears. He lit it and laughed. His accomplice thought he was just taunting me. When Master actually melted my clit away, his partner puked and passed out from the grotesque image of my mutilated girl parts. The smell of burning flesh lingers in your nostrils for days. I was in shock from the pain. I puked, but didn’t pass out, which might have saved me. In Master’s eyes, I was tougher than his failed assistant. He turned the blow torch on his balls and dick and I was just grateful the focus was no longer on me.
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