Torture Phone Sex with Cassandra and Sin: The Price of Beauty

I usually only have male masters. Sin, is the exception. She is a beautiful hot dominant bitch. I can’t help but give in to Sin.  I met her years ago at an underground sex club. She was the only female domme there. The rest of us girls were just subbie bitches there to be used and abused by the male patrons. She took a liking to me. I think because I am quite beautiful. I look like a goddess, but I am no stuck up bitch. I know my place. Sin called me last weekend as she wanted me to check out this new female centered S and M club. I was not Sin’s date for the evening; I was her pet.

I wore a diamond encrusted dog collar and crawled into the club on all fours like the dog I am. If I pulled or crawled at a pace too fast for Sin, she took her riding crop to my exposed ass. The club was packed. Lots of beautiful dominant goth goddesses with pretty little subbie pets like me. Sin took me into a private VIP room. The room looked far more inviting than what was about to happen to me. Purple and black crushed velvet disguised the torture room. Sin had me get up on this table and she tied me spread eagle. I was gagged and my hands and feet exposed.

Sin informed me that in medieval times, pretty, painted whores were denailed. I was not familiar with this archaic practice, but I did not like the sound of it. She brought out a tray of torture devices. I saw sharp sewers, hot oil and sulfur, pliers and a host of sharp objects. I was scared. Sin was a dominant bitch, but I was about to meet her sadistic side. She told me I knew better than to show up with painted nails and toes trying to outshine her. She dipped the sewers in the hot sulfur and slide them under my toes and fingernails. The hot sulfur not only loosened the nail from my flesh, it scaled my flesh. My screams had to pierce her ears. The pain was unbearable. I never knew a woman could be so cruel to another woman. I thought I was a pain slut until this moment. Nothing in my S and M world, prepared me for the pain of denailing.

Once my finger and toenails were pliable from the hot sulfur and oil, Sin used the pliers to rip the nails from their root, leaving me with bloody stumps. The pain was unlike anything I had felt before; so excruciating that I passed out a few times. The entire time Sin was denailing my once pretty extremities, she smiled. It was as if she was creating a work of art, her masterpiece to be proud of.  Even the air hurt as it touched my exposed fingers and toes. Every tear, every wince, every scream, brought a smile to Sin’s face.

I learned a valuable, painful lesson that night. Never try to be prettier than your Master. My vanity, my pride, my beauty, paid a high price for that lesson. But I will never make that mistake again.

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