Sorry, Sir

I woke up hog tied in the bed, apparently my smart mouth had made you angry again. I don’t know why I do it, Sir, I just can’t seem to help myself. I want to be the best little pain whore for you, but my mouth just keeps getting in my way. I know the only thing you want to hear from me is my screaming and begging for more pain, but something about the searing sting of your toys makes me cuss at you.


Now I can’t say shit with this gag in my mouth and I know the torture is going to come hard now that I am awake. My whole body aches, so I know you’ve been beating me while I was out cold. My head is throbbing and I can’t feel either one of my legs. I wish I could speak so that I could beg for you. All I can do is whimper and plead with my eyes while you bite me and hit me with that paddle.

I see stars every time you yank my head back to spit in my face. But your piss feels so good pouring over my head and through my hair. The smell is rancid, but I love every drop like I am supposed to. I am such a fucking dirty slut, and I want to be your favorite. You push everything with me, and you keep me alive, so far, for some reason. Maybe we have connected? God, I wish you would remove this gag… I promise I won’t ever talk back again. Well, I will try not to anyway…

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