Wednesday, September 24, 2014

My Response to Violent Scenes

Lately whenever I watch a violent scene in a movie with a female response is a bit disturbing. His pussy gets wet and I want to spread my legs for abuse. I can deny that the masochistic whore in me craves a similar scene with M. I want to taste that violence at His hands. I crave being bound and at His mercy as I struggle helplessly. I want to drown in fear of Him as He hurts me and rapes my holes. 

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. 

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