I’m on my knees, drool already dripping from my ball gag

The coarse jute rope scratches my wrists raw every time I struggle, Sir, and I love it. It burns deliciously when you yank the knots tighter, the fibers digging into my skin like tiny teeth. I’m on my knees, drool already dripping from my ball gag, tasting the rubber and my own desperation. Spank me with that thick leather belt — I want to feel the whoosh of air right before the crack lands, the explosion of heat blooming across my ass. Call me your stupid little whore while the welts rise. Then shove three fingers down my throat so I gag and cry for you. I’m trembling, pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for you to split me open and remind me I’m owned. Call now, Master. I need the pain.