Dark fantasies consume my thoughts. I may look like a blonde bombshell, but I am a submissive whore. I want to be abused. I want to be owned. When I met Sam at this fetish club that I bartend at on the weekends, I knew his hands would feel good around my thought. I went home with him. I know it is dangerous to go home with a total stranger, but I like danger. I crave it. I need it. He had a bedroom designed for some one like me. The headboard of his bed had slots to chain me. It had built in foot restraints, even a bed for a sub underneath. On the wall was every kind of device a master could need. Sam was no amateur to the S & M world. He was a seasoned veteran of the dark BDSM world. He snapped his fingers and I got naked. I fell to my knees with a look. I was prepared for a skull fucking, but he had a strangle fantasy he wanted to explore instead. His hand gripped my throat tightly. I felt the room go dark. I woke up being skull fucked. He enjoyed the fact that his dick was reviving me. His hands were big and strong. You can tell I had a dark encounter last night because there are hand prints in blue and purple around my neck and my eyes are bloodshot. I have a date with him again tonight.
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