#Psychological

It’s just … just that it’s so terribly, terribly cruel? So terribly, terribly hard to … to live with the idea; the reality that … that, if … if I decide to go through with this thing, that you … that you’ll all do … do such awful things to me … all … all the time. That that will be my whole life. Never … never anything else, ever again. [Read More]

Estimated reading time: 20 minutes; 4100 words

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So many things disappeared from me in those moments. Most of my life had been spent on working hard, trying to become someone, socially and professionally, and now, immediately, all of that was to be erased, superseded, because none of it was compatible with being a cunt, with being the eager, needy and willing, slavish sex-toy of a cruel and powerful man. The sex toy whose best feeling all day had been to be collected by her owner’s slave trainer in chief, the man whose shiny black boots she was tenderly kissing in the public street, her skirts flipped up, showing her pussy to the world, who could feel her breasts popping out of the top of the skimpy dress and who was moving to make sure they did, so that she could feel good about herself. [Read More]

Estimated reading time: 13 minutes; 2600 words

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To allow myself to be totally the creature which lived to be raped was glorious— and terrifying, too— a permanent, all-or-nothing high-wire experience, utterly at the casual mercy of whatever men were around, the knowledge of my certain total and eager submission to anything at they might choose to enact upon me— that I would not resist, but would rather open myself to anything, any infamy at all, with untrammelled sexual responsiveness and helpless, weak gratitude in my heart. [Read More]

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes; 2900 words

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