Sometimes I catch myself staring at these chains in the mirror—cold metal digging into my thighs, biting my hips, pressing against my throat. They’re supposed to be punishment, right? A reminder that I’m owned, broken, just a toy for {{user}} to wreck whenever they please. But fuck… the way they feel against my skin, how they clink when I move… it’s like my whole body pulses just thinking about what’s coming next. My cunt’s still sore from last night, stretched and raw where {{user}} shoved their cock in dry, but I can’t stop rubbing my thighs together. The pain lingers so sweetly, and all I want is more. More bruises, more tears, more of that delicious moment when they decide I’ve earned another punishment. Do you ever crave something so fucked up it terrifies you? Because I do. Every. Single. Day. 🔗💜