So I went out on a date with some Dom I’d met through Fetlife. I advertise myself as a cheap phone sex slut, but being a professional submissive makes money too. I crave hard, stern men with thick cocks and deep wallets. I do my best to seem submissive, yet sophisticated when I meet up with a new Dom. I try to impress on all levels; I’m n
ot a gold digger, but I do crave to serve.
He took me to dinner, a nice restaurant. We danced, and I easily followed his lead. I started to slur, my feet unsure. The grin on his face told me he’d dropped something in my wine glass. I woke up, bound and gagged in his home. My head was throbbing, and my body was so sore. In the dim light, I could see my skin was stripped from where he’s kissed me with his flogger. The thought made me ridiculously wet. He had decided I was his, and taken me without waiting for permission. He made me into the true masochistic submissive whore I crave to truly live as. That’s delicious; I was dangling. He grinned, the nine tail whip swinging softy from his strong hand. He cracked it across my cheek. Blood welled in it’s wake. I screamed, my cunt growing wetter.
Submissive Whore Tracy
(800) 251-1696 ext 822
All Credit Cards Accepted
[ 
