Whispers in the Basement
[F/ff] [CNC] [bondage] [whipping] [forced bi] Continued from: Miss Alexis DiPaulo I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m Carol, sitting at my kitchen table with my laptop glowing in the dim light, the kids finally in bed and my husband out at his weekly golf thing. Mistress Andrea’s “forcing” me to write all this down—for everyone to read. Every raunchy, humiliating detail of my session at the Facility. If I don’t spill it all, she’ll punish me—maybe drag me back for more whippings, more torture until I break and beg like a desperate slut. It’s all consensual, of course—safe words, boundaries, all that sanity stuff—but the humiliation of typing this out, knowing strangers will read it, judge me, get off on my degradation… I hate it. I love it. It arouses me so much my big mom-panties are already damp, that twisted knot tightening in my stomach with every keystroke. But I have to obey, or else… In the background tab, the Facility’s website is open— that sleek, anonymous site with its ...
