My heart pounds as I step out of my car and walk down your driveway, hurriedly, my eyes darting both ways as I scramble to make it into your gate so I can shut away all the glances I'm imagining through your neighbors windows.
I can still hear your voice in my ear, whispering harshly, "Short skirt, long enough only to hide your shaved cunt, no panties...white tank top, no bra...and the most whoreish stripper shoes you can find." I remember staring into my mirror earlier that night, my eyes big at the sight of the girl in front of me....the degrading outfit, stripped me of all sense of innocence. I began to try to accustom myself to see what you would see... what I was being molded into by you.
I stand outside your door, my heart beating so hard and fast, I swear the whole world must be able to hear it. I bite my lower lip, knowing that if I were to look into the mirror, my eyes would be wide with fear. But I love you ....and so I will give you tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday. I will be yours for the weekend. No Limits. Just me, you, and my submission. I exhale, trying to expel all nerves and fear...but it's no use. Instead, I resolutely lean forward and ring your doorbell.
The door opens, and like always, my breath catches in my throat. I see your steely eyes, cold, hard, cruel. There is no warmth today...just the eyes of a man who sees what is his standing before him. You yank me inside, look me up and down, rolling your eyes in disgust at what a slut I look like dressed in those "cheap ass clothes," as you so eloquently put it. "God you're disgusting." You say flippantly as you grab me by my hair and whip me around so that I'm facing you, head leaned back, staring into your dark, unyielding eyes. "Who do you belong to, slut?" You ask me. I can barely speak...it's as if I'm paralyzed by the moment. You slap me across my face, making tears well up in my eyes. "Answer me, bitch." You growl. I close my eyes, willing my voice to make an appearance. I manage a whisper. "I belong to you."
You let go of my hair, sending me reeling, obviously pleased at the submissive words to the question you had asked of me. With a motion to follow, I walk down the stairs to your basement...your own private torture chamber. I know that this is where I'll be tested...where the monster in you will emerge. I trust you to be that monster to me....and you trust me enough to allow yourself to descend into that dark place that goes beyond anything truly safe or sane. Consensual nonconsent...who are we kidding? I will want this to be over within five minutes...that's when my screams for it to stop will be genuine. My terror will become music to your ears. My cries and tears will lubricate your hard on. When it gets to that point...it will no longer be consensual...but after it's over and you hold me, looking into my eyes with adoration and love, I'll know it's worth it.