The room smells like stale smoke and cheap disinfectant. I’m tied spread-eagled to the bed, the cuffs biting into my wrists and ankles so tight I can’t even wiggle. The mattress is cheap, and I can feel the springs digging into my spine, but that pain is nothing compared to what’s happening between my legs. They climb on top of me. The mattress dips under the weight. I try to close my legs, a reflex I can’t control, but the binds hold me open, forcing me to accept him. There’s no foreplay. No gentle touch to get me ready. He just lines himself up and shoves in. It burns. I’m not wet enough,… 阅读更多内容

The world went black as I tied the mask behind my head, plunging me into a darkness where my other senses surged into overdrive. I could hear the distinct beep of a camera starting to record. "Bend over the table," a voice directed. I obeyed, gripping the edges of the small table, my soft curves pressing against the cold wood. I heard the rustle of a jar opening, and then the slick, cold sensation of lube against my skin. The first touch was intense—a firm pressure as a butt plug was worked inside me, followed by fingers stretching me open. I gasped, not from pain, but from a shocking wave of… 阅读更多内容

I’m writing this with tears in my eyes and a pit in my stomach so big I feel like I might be sick. I don’t even know why I’m posting this publicly. Maybe because I’m too ashamed to tell my friends or my family back home. Maybe because if I keep it inside, I’m going to explode. Or maybe, just maybe, this will stop someone else from making the same mistake I did. It started three months ago, right around the time I realized my salary as a teacher wouldn't cover the hike in my rent. I was lonely, stressed, and scrolling through… 阅读更多内容