My lips quivered as tears rolled down my face. Oh, how I wished I could quell my crying. My tears defeated the strength of character I’d displayed. ... felt weak when I cried. The snot smeared across my face was the most embarrassing. I’d have given anything to have fallen through a crack in the rock where I stood. Pride made me meet Master, eye to eye. I dared him to strike me again. It was a match, one I knew he could not allow me to win, but the unspoken battle was fought anyway. My lips. The lighting was very dark; most of the time, it seemed like we were in a dungeon. I spent most of the time in bondage, either clothed or partly clothed but, being fed or filled with an assortment of BBC. None of it was rough, all I ended up with was a mildly gaping cunt and some rope burns/marks. I could still work most nights.I was almost put out of commission near the end of it. The last few days I had the bigger cocks stuffing me, was tied-up for a few **** scenes and, there was a set-up of. More

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