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Choose Your Own Adventure
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Choose Your Own Adventure We've been chatting for a while here on passion and really hitting it off. You're intrigued by how rough I want it and I'm impressed by the dirty things you say you want to do. I feel like you're really going to degrade and punish me, and I can't resist any more. Of course between your wife and kids, there's always someone at your house, so I agree to get a hotel room and wait there for you. We set a time and a place and then not a moment goes by we aren't thinking about one another. A few hours before the scheduled time I message you with the room number, and you know it's happening. I also tease you with a selfie, dressed in a tiny plaid skirt, crisp white button-down shirt so thin you can see hints of my bra and body through it, and thigh high stockings. A perfect little schoolgirl for you, just like you ordered me to wear. Seeing me in outfit, with my hair and makeup perfectly done for you, you can't help but get turned on. Right on time, you show up at the room. You go to knock, but notice the door is cracked open a hair. You push it open and see a very different picture than what you expected. I'm on the floor, dressed in just my underwear (small, tight, white training bra with just a little lace trim and matching plain white cotton panties with a little pink rose) and my wrists and ankles bound with duct tape. My hair is disheveled and my makeup is wrecked, mascara streaming down my face from heavy crying. Duct tape is over my mouth, wrapped all the way around my head tightly so it won't come loose. As you look closer, you see my lip is fat, there is dried blood from my nose on my face and chest, and it looks like I have a black eye forming. What do you do next? |
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The contrast between the two paragraphs creates an unsettling tension. YES! . . . What does he do ?
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