As I stare transfixed at the screen, I am no longer empathetic toward the characters. I simply see actors held safely in the context of filming. Just as I would be held safely in the security of our D/s relationship. I'm not horrified or fearful of the actions played out for my entertainment. No...I'm more jealous of their opportunity to be bound, gagged, and tormented.
These moments more than any other show me how far down the rabbit hole I've fallen. As I clench my thighs together and hope my wet cunt doesn't leave a stain on my clothing I try to slow my rapid heart rate and swallow my whimpers. With embarrassment and shame I recognize what a twisted whore I am and how desperate I am to feel M's rage and darkness.
And when the movie moves on...I try in silence to bury my disappointment that my violent twisted porn has ended. Thankfully the lights are dimmed.