Safe, Sane, and Consensual

The video opens on a cheerfully decorated living room. Daylight streams in from a set of French windows. “Welcome back, my friend,” says the dark haired man lounging on the couch. He’s dressed in a blue bathrobe and nothing else, the tied sash only barely preserving his modesty. “Or if you’re a first time viewer…” He gives the camera a boyish grin. “Here’s hoping you don’t run away screaming.”

“We just started and you’re already bullying me!” complains the blonde woman sitting next to him on the couch, but her tone is playful and she’s smiling as well. She wears a matching bathrobe, hers untied to reveal a flawless body with ripe curves and smooth, golden skin. “You have to be nice to me while we’re upstairs, remember?”

“You keep telling me that’s a rule, but I don’t think it’s written down anywhere, is it?” He slides an arm behind her back and pulls her closer to him, one hand casually fondling her bare breast. She sighs happily at his touch and leans into it. “Maybe, my dear Charlotte, you’re my miserable, tortured sex slave in every room of the house, not just the basement.”

“Mayyyyybe,” Charlotte agrees, her own hand slipping into his bathrobe to seek out his groin. “But then, my dear, dear Simon, you wouldn’t have your darling wife around to cook you dinner, or laugh at all your terrible jokes…” Her hand softly moves up and down beneath the robe. “Or give you the kind of gentle, loving care that you just can’t get from someone you keep in a dog cage, no matter how many times you whip her bloody? Hmmmmm?”

Simon laughs. “Fine, fine! I guess you’re safe up here for now.” He turns his head and the two share a slow, lingering kiss, before pulling their hands away from each other with clear reluctance. “And I wasn’t trying to bully you, I promise! I just know this is our one year anniversary for these videos, and we’ll probably get a lot of new folks who might be a little…”

“Taken aback when they see me with all my makeup on?” Charlotte asks, and giggles. “That’s on you, mister. I’m not the one holding the whip, or the cigarettes, or the needles. Or remember when I got you that fake branding iron for Christmas? You were supposed to mark me just once, on the stomach: GRADE F FUCKMEAT.” She rubs her flat, unmarked belly. “But you had so much fun you did it, what? Six times? Seven? And now I need to redo all of them, every time.”

“You can’t blame me for loving a gift too much,” her husband protests cheerfully. “And I’m not responsible for all your permanent markings. When you pretended to bite my cock way back during our very first video, I was happy to just punish you with the riding crop. You were the one who insisted we needed a scene where I yank all your teeth out with pliers.”

“And now I have to blacken them before every single shoot,” Charlotte says glumly. “Depriving everyone of my winning smile.” She shows said smile off to the camera, her perfect teeth gleaming. “But God, that was so fucking hot. I’d do it all over again if I could.”

“Mmm hmm,” Simon agrees, and the two kiss again, longer this time. “I have so much I want to do to you today,” he growls softly.

“You’re going to make me suffer, right?” Charlotte asks, her voice growing huskier. “Make me bleed and cry and do all sorts of wonderful things to your cock?” He nods, and she purrs in delight. “You proooooooomise?” They kiss a third time, and then she pulls away, standing up from the couch and letting the bathrobe slip off completely. “Then I’d better go get ready, or else we’re going to spend all day right here fucking each other silly and have to try again tomorrow.”

She faces the camera a final time and winks before exiting. “See you on the flip side!”

***

The basement is filthy and gloomy, the storm windows boarded up to prevent any natural light from coming through. The only illumination comes from a few harsh fluorescent bulbs, small pools of light that make everywhere else that much darker.

Beneath one such bulb is a rusty dog cage. It seems far too small to hold an adult woman, but she’s somehow managed to squeeze herself in, the metal bars digging into her skin on all sides.

Charlotte is almost unrecognizable as she sleeps crammed into her cage. Her flowing locks of hair are now ragged, dirty, and lifeless. Beneath a layer of filth and masses of bruises, burns, and cuts, what little can be seen of her golden skin is now deathly pale. The closest thing to clothing she wears is a black dog collar drawn tight around her neck.

Next to her, a naked Simon puffs on a cigarette for a few seconds while admiring the view. “How should we wake up this sleeping beauty?” he asks the camera quietly. “A kiss? A song? Or how about…” He leans down and crushes the cigarette against her forehead. “Rise and shine, fuckmeat!”

The cage rattles as Charlotte jolts awake with a scream of pain that lasts for only half a second before a light flashes on her collar and her voice abruptly cuts off. She continues silently screaming for several more seconds while her bent limbs flex and contort, struggling in vain against the metal bars, and then she slumps in submission. The light flicks off.

Simon unlatches the door to the cage, then steps back to watch as Charlotte begins the slow process of unpacking herself from it, easing one shaking limb at a time until she’s finally out and on all fours. The blonde looks up at her husband and whines softly, her mouth hanging open. A swollen pink tongue peeks out through cracked, dry lips.

“Greedy bitch,” Simon mutters. “It’s only been two days since your last drink, and you’re already thirsty again?” Charlotte nods weakly, and sticks her tongue out farther. “You’d better be properly thankful for this, slut.” She nods again.

He points his cock at an empty space on the cement floor, and a stream of dark yellow piss jets out, quickly forming a wide puddle. “You waste a single drop and you go back to drinking nothing but cum,” he snarls. “Being her owner’s toilet is a privilege for worthless fuckmeat like you.”

Charlotte quickly crawls forward and begins lapping up her husband’s urine. The basement floor is as filthy as anything else down there, and mixed in with the puddle of piss are dust mites, grit, and the occasional pellet of mouse shit. The blonde licks the various floating bits of grime up with only the slightest hesitation, but her stomach is less obedient. By the time she’s half finished her task, it’s audibly rumbling and a sickly expression is written across her face. “Bitch, if you throw up, I swear to God I will rip out your womb and force feed it to you,” Simon warns. Based on Charlotte’s look of abject terror, and the way she starts noisily slurping up his piss even faster, she doesn’t think he’s bluffing.

Several minutes later, the floor has been thoroughly tongue washed, but Charlotte is clutching her stomach in pain, her lips clamped shut. She looks up at Simon and whimpers, wordlessly telling him how hard she’s trying to obey. Her husband shakes his head and sighs. “This is pathetic, slut. Can’t even take a drink without fucking up. This is why you deserve to be down here getting treated like this. Luckily for you, it’s our anniversary and I’m feeling generous, so…”

He grabs Charlotte by the ears, crushing them in a tight grip as he pulls her head to his cock. She doesn’t resist, meekly opening her mouth just in time for his prick to bury itself straight down her throat. Once he’s fully inside of her, his balls rubbing her chin and her nose buried in his pubes, Simon lets go of her ears, but she makes no attempt to pull back. Instead, she pushes forward, striving to fill her throat with every possible millimeter of dick.

She’s still straining like that when her stomach gurgles a final time and its contents begin to rush up… only to be stopped by the blockage in her throat. The seal isn’t airtight and a slimy mixture of bile, piss, and mucus leaks from her nostrils to run down cheeks that bulge with more of the same, kept in check only by her clamped lips.

“Fucking disgusting,” Simon remarks as Charlotte pulls back just enough to let her swallow the vomit back down with an audible gulp, and then begins cleaning the rest of it off his cock. “Absolutely fucking disgusting.” She doesn’t argue.

One diligent tongue bath later, his prick finally pops free of her mouth, still rock hard. Charlotte retreats back, awaiting her next order. “And now that I’ve done you not one but two generous favors,” Simon muses, “let’s talk about what you’re going to do for me.” He leans in to whisper in her ear, and her face grows even paler as she listens.

***


Charlotte’s breasts are not a pretty sight. Between the crisscross of whip marks, the faded bruises, and the GRADE F FUCKMEAT brands stamped across both of them, they bear little resemblance to the full globes she was showing off not long ago.

That resemblance vanishes completely once she starts using the zip ties.

Kneeling on the floor under Simon’s watchful eye, she wraps them around the base of both breasts and begins to pull, drawing them tight and making her already large tits balloon in size. “I’m going to check them after,” he warns, “and if I don’t think they’re as tight as you can make them, I’ll do it myself.” Charlotte nods and pulls harder, her entire body straining with the effort as the ties slowly click tighter and tighter.

When she’s done, the ties are so deeply dug into her flesh that they’re almost invisible, and her swollen breasts stand at full attention without a hint of sag. Simon examines both critically, and then nods. “Not bad, slut. I think that really is as tight as you can make them.” She nods in relief, then freezes when he grabs a fistful of tit in one hand, his nails sinking into her flesh. “But I think there’s room for improvement.” With his grip on her breast for leverage, he yanks hard on the tie with his other hand and is rewarded with a series of more clicks. “See?”

By the time he’s satisfied, the ties are tight enough to draw blood, and Charlotte’s breasts are tinged purple from the lack of circulation. He gives one a hard slap that makes his wife shriek, the sound once again cut off almost immediately as a light flashes on the collar. “Much better. When I look at these fat cow tits, it almost makes me forget what a pathetic fucktoy you are. And you know what will make these really stand out?”

Charlotte nods her head timidly, her eyes downcast. Simon leers at her. “That's right, slut: a good polish!”

There’s already a strip of sandpaper glued to the floor, and Charlotte nervously gets down on her knees in front of it. She clasps her hands behind her back and bends over, face on the floor and butt in the air, wincing as the undersides of her zipped up tits brush the coarse texture.

“I’ll make this so simple even a brain dead lump of fuckmeat can understand it,” Simon says as he kneels behind her, hands on her hips and cock pointed at her slit. “I get off, you get to stop. I’d tell you how I’m going to punish you if you stop buffing those tits before we’re done, but we both know you’re going to fuck this up, so why spoil the surprise?” Charlotte whimpers at that, then squeals quietly when he smacks her upturned ass cheek. “You waiting for a formal invitation? Get moving!”

The blonde’s entire body quivers in pain as she draws herself back, her swollen tits scraping the sandpaper. It hurts so much that she barely winces as his fat cock disappears up her cunt. She pushes forward, and lets out an inhuman moan of agony as her aching flesh scrubs the sandpaper a second time. Her collar lights up again, bringing silence.

“That collar was the best investment of my life,” Simon says to the camera as his wife slowly fucks herself on him, her mouth open in a silent but intense cry of pain. “Long time viewers will remember how I used to have to keep her mouth constantly stuffed with something or other to keep her from ruining my eardrums, but now I can do things like this-” he punches her hard in the kidney, and her entire body convulses. “With no problem at all! Aren’t you happy for me, slut?” Charlotte nods.

Several minutes tick by, Charlotte’s breasts looking more raw and bloody with each second. “Nothing like relaxing sometimes with a long, leisurely fuck,” Simon remarks eventually. He’s barely moved a muscle all this time, letting his wife do all the work, his cock sliding in and out of her at a slow pace. “I think she’s going to be at this a while, so why don’t we take this time to address some questions our viewers have sent in. Before I get started, for legal reasons I need to add a disclaimer…” He waves his hands in the air. “We’re a happily married couple engaging in safe, sane, and consensual role play, and most of what I’m about to say is pure bullshit. Don’t try any of this at home, right? Right. Now let’s see, I was looking at the questions just before we started…”

He snaps his fingers. “Right! Lots of you wanted to know what kind of diet I keep her on. It might surprise you to learn that it’s actually quite calorie dense. She's a pathetic excuse for a fucktoy, but I don’t want her dying anytime soon, so it’s important to keep her pumped full of nutrients. For protein, I recently started ordering bugs by the pound from a pet supplier. I usually take a lot of small ones and mash them up into a gooey paste, but when I think she could use a treat…” He reaches over to a small bag next to the wall and produces a fat, squirming beetle nearly the size of his thumb. “Open wide, slut!”

Revulsion briefly replaces the pain in Charlotte’s face, but she obediently opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out to let him place the beetle on it. “And of course, treats are meant to be savored,” Simon says as her tongue retracts. “If she swallows before I say so, it means she’s not properly appreciative and needs to be punished, isn’t that so?” She nods. “Good girl. Let’s give you a few more.” A cockroach, a couple large earthworms, and something unidentifiable with too many legs join the beetle in her mouth.

“For the rest of her diet, many grocery stores will let you buy their rotten produce and moldy bread for next to nothing, no questions asked. It can get a bit bland sometimes, so I like to spice it up with an extra ingredient or two. One week it’s a handful of styrofoam packing peanuts, next week it’s hair from the shower drain, or maybe an old dog turd off the side of the road. Whatever sounds fun. Show your fans that all your treats are still happy and doing great, slut, and then you can swallow.”

Charlotte opens her mouth, showing off the still wriggling bugs, before gulping them down. Her upper body continues to move at a halting, unsteady pace, her zipped breasts now smeared in blood.

Simon makes a pleasant, satisfied sound. “It’s slow, but she’s getting there, folks. This fuckmeat is on her way to a fresh cream pie. I think we have time for one more question, though. How about… oh, you guys are always asking why I still treat her so roughly. In the old days, she used to fight back a lot more, but now she’s pretty docile and here I am making her destroy her own breasts.

“Now I could give you the easy answer: because Charlotte likes it this way…” He winks. “But I know that’s not the one you want to hear. I do all this because that’s what fuckmeat is for. If I just wanted to get my rocks off, there are plenty of easier ways to do it, Hell, I bet this slut pumping my cock right now would genuinely and happily devote the rest of her life to making me cum as often and as hard as humanly possible if I promised to stop hurting her, wouldn’t she?” Charlotte nods quickly. “But this isn’t just about sex. It’s about pain and humiliation. I love to cum in this slut, and I also love to beat her black and blue and make her drink my piss and everything else. I don’t do any of it because I have to, it’s because I want to, and no matter how well behaved this fucktoy of mine becomes, I’m never ever going to stop making her miserable.”

A small sob escapes Charlotte’s lips, and that sends Simon over the edge. He groans happily as his cock spurts into her, her hips still rocking back and forth against him. “That’s not to say,” he adds, panting slightly as he pulls out of her and grabs a fistful of long dirty hair to dry his cock with, “that the sex isn’t really fucking great. And now, time for her punishment!”

His wife starts at that and begins shaking her head frantically. “You think I’m as stupid as you are, slut? You paused for almost an entire second after that kidney punch, remember?” He presses one hand down on her back, squashing her tits against the soaked strip of sandpaper, and punches her again, right where he did before. “See? Just like that.” His fist slams into her a third time, the skin already bruising. “You think you get to stop pleasing me just because I’m hurting you, fuckmeat? I don’t care if I’m in the middle of ripping your toenails off again or seeing how many needles I can shove in your clit; when I’m inside you, you never-“ Another punch, and she starts coughing helplessly, blood flecked phlegm spattering the floor. “Ever-” Another, and her side is now purplish and deformed, as though he’s broken something inside her. “Ever-” Another deforms it even further. “Stop pleasuring me!”

Charlotte is nodding furiously at this point, eager to show that she’s learned her lesson. She’s already lapping up the bloody spit on the floor, even as her coughing fit continues to add more. Her husband steps off camera for a moment, returning with a pair of items that look like a piping bag and a dildo. “That was just me letting off some steam, by the way. Here’s your actual punishment.”

Charlotte has finally managed to get her coughing under control and the floor licked clean, and shows little reaction when the tip of the piping bag is inserted in her pussy. It can’t be comfortable, but it’s far shorter and thinner than the cock that was just plowing her moments ago. “I figure after a year of rawdogging, I should finally get around to douching this filthy cunt of yours,” Simon tells her. “With hot sauce, of course.”

There’s a long moment after he squeezes the bag where Charlotte is perfectly still, frozen in shock and terror as the thick mixture coats her already battered and sore insides. And then she’s spasming and wailing, the cries muted by her collar. She jerks back and forth, flailing, convulsing, looking more like a dying insect than a human being.

She’s moving so much that it takes a minute or two for Simon to get the dildo into her. It’s a thick phallus with tapered ridges all along the sides that slide in easily enough, but as he demonstrates with a sharp tug that makes his wife gasp, leaves the toy wedged inside her. “Wouldn’t want any of that to leak out and get on my cock, after all. Don’t worry, slut, I’ll give you another douche the next time I feel like pounding your cunt. Might take a few tries to wash all the hot sauce out, but I’ve got a month’s worth of piss saved up for it.”

He grabs Charlotte by the hair and forces her to face him. Her eyes are wide and watery as she meets his gaze, her lower body still shaking and quivering in the throes of agony. “Okay, bitch, we’ve polished your fat cow tits and set your cunt on fire. Enjoying our anniversary so far?” She nods miserably. “Great! Cause here’s the good news: all of this… it was just the foreplay.”

She begins to sob.

***



Charlotte lies splayed face down across a wooden bench. Her flayed tits, still wrapped in zip ties, are being crushed against the rough surface. A dark blindfold covers her eyes, and a chain is now attached to her collar. It runs over her back and connects to the dildo still stuffed in her pussy. It’s a short chain, and it forces her to keep her head up and face forward. Her hips roll and bob in the air, still searching fruitlessly for some kind of relief from the hot sauce bottled up inside her.

“Welcome back, folks,” Simon says. “We had to take a little break there, which I promise wasn’t just so Charlotte could stretch her legs a bit and finally cum, honest.” He winks. “It was also so I could add some fresh artwork to mark the occasion.” He taps her blindfold and she flinches. “She hasn’t seen it yet, by the way. I made sure she was a little too… occupied during the tattoo session to focus on what I was writing. Isn’t that right, slut?” She shudders.

“You’ll get to enjoy her reaction in a moment, but there’s just a little bit of preparation left before we’re ready. For this special occasion, I even turned off her collar, so she can tell you about it herself. What are we going to do to you, slut?” Charlotte opens her mouth, but hesitates, no sound coming out. “It’s not too late for a second sandpaper session,” Simon growls.

Her voice is hoarse and cracked from lack of use, the words mushy without teeth. “Y-you’re going to nail my breas-“

“Your what?”

“M- m-my fat, freshly polished cow tits. You’re going to nail them to the bench, s-so that… I stay still while we celebrate our anniversary.”

“That’s right!” he says, pleased, and produces the nail gun. He presses the tip against one swollen tit, just behind the nipple. “Now smile and tell me you love me.”

Her lips spread in a terrified rictus. “I-I love you.” There’s a sharp thunk, and then she screams.

“Ahh, I almost missed that sound,” Simon says, and presses the nail gun against her other breast. “One more time.”

She’s shaking with pain. “I, I, I l-lo, I l-love y-“ Thunk. “Aaaaaaaagh!”

“All set. Now, how exactly are we going to celebrate?”

Charlotte’s body is twitching involuntarily with pain, every movement scraping her raw, nailed, bulging tits against the wood. She’s hyperventilating, breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. “Y- y- you’re going to f-fuck my ass until it’s as raw as, as my fat, f-freshly polished cow tits, and th-then you’re going to use m- my mouth to clean your c-cock and get you hard a-again, so you can keep d-doing it over and over and over, until I’ve drained another y-year’s worth of cum from your b-balls.”

“Yes!” says Simon. “And no. What’s an anniversary without a little surprise, right? Let’s show you that new tattoo.” He pulls the blindfold off of his wife.

Charlotte’s eyes are glazed over with fear and pain at first, but they slowly refocus, and she takes in the two large words etched permanently across her collarbone.

DOG FUCKER

“No…” she whispers. “No, no, nononono-“ Her pleas are interrupted by the sound of eager barking from off camera, and then a patter of footsteps coming down the unseen flight of stairs. Something flashes in her eyes, and she gives the camera a desperate look. “Please!” she yells. “Please, she’s not me! She’s not-“

Her words are drowned out by the frenzy of barking. Two dogs burst onto the scene, a heavyset German Rottweiler and a tall Great Dane. The Rottweiler is the first to reach her, and nearly knocks Charlotte and the bench over in his excitement. His cock stabs the air as he plants his paws on her bare back and furiously shakes his hindquarters. He pokes against her leg, her stuffed pussy, her ass cheek, and then finally his frantic questing discovers the available hole that is her tight asshole. Charlotte screams as her new doggy lover wags his tail almost as hard as his hips, delighted with this new bitch he’s found and eager to pump her full of puppies. Her nailed tits become a blur as the hard anal pounding scrubs them against the bench.

Her shrieks continue until Simon grabs a remote off one shelf. The collar lights up, and Charlotte’s screams become silent. “That was a close one,” her husband says, chuckling. “A few seconds longer and we would’ve had to hear what she thinks about knots.”

The blonde’s eyes bulge and her vocal cords stand out against her skin as she discovers what he meant. At the base of the dog’s cock, a lump is slowly swelling up. Her anal ring, already spread wide and straining around the pistoning cock, resists its entry at first, but it only takes a few seconds and some feverish canine thrusts to overpower it. There’s an audible pop as the knot forces her to sphincter to stretch open to accommodate its girth. A moment later, there’s a second pop as it forces its way back out.

The Rottweiler’s hips are moving fast enough to thrust into her several times a second, and the same story plays out with each and every one. Pop as the ever expanding knot stretches her anal ring wider than it’s ever been to allow it entry. Pop as the knot stretches her anal ring even wider than that to make its exit. Pop back in. Pop back out. Pop pop pop pop, Charlotte’s personal record for most stretched asshole shattered over and over. Her eyes stare hopelessly into the camera, willing some kind of intervention that never arrives.

By the time the knot is finished growing, it’s a baseball sized sphere wedged inside her, sealing her back door closed and ensuring that every last drop of dog cum that’s already gushing into her will end up deep in her bowels. Satisfied, the Rottweiler stops thrusting and turns around, still knotted with his bitch. Charlotte wears an expression of dead eyed misery as her plugged guts continue to swell with dog cum. “You’ve got about five more minutes until your other partner,” Simon observes. “These two good boys don’t cum as long as the usual breeds, but what they lack in staying power, they make up for in enthusiasm. Their handler assures me that even on a bad day with a loose bitch, they can fire a good dozen loads in a row. So I figure with a hard working dog fluffer like you, they might just manage twenty or thirty! Speaking of…”

Simon puts his thumb on Charlotte’s lower lip and presses it against the bench. She tries to bring her head down to follow it, but the chain on her collar holds her back, forcing her mouth to gape wide open instead. “I didn’t want to bring this up before, but I’m a little worried you might be a bad fucktoy and try to close your mouth at some point. Do you think we should get out the nail gun one last time and nail your lip down?”

The blonde comes to her senses enough to shake her head frantically. “No? You’re going to be a good fluffer for both these doggos? Slurp your shit off their rockets and get them fired up to go again?”

She nods, and Simon sucks on his teeth. “Okay… but what if I want to do it anyway?”

Charlotte has no answer to that.

Thunk.

A few minutes later, the Rottweiler pops out of her asshole, leaving behind a gaping hole that is quickly filled by the Great Dane, who has similar aspirations of fatherhood. Simon leads the dog around to Charlotte’s front to discover the warm wet hole nailed open and waiting for him. He’s more than happy to have his furry prick spitshined and worshipped, and shows his appreciation by humping her face with enough force to give her a bloody nose and a pair of black eyes. Meanwhile, his packmate is working equally hard to add his own load of puppy batter to her guts, leaving her butt glowing with fresh bruises and her back raked with claw marks. Caught between two energetic lovers, Charlotte’s poor zip tied tits are soon bristling with splinters.

The blonde chokes as the Rottweiler’s knot begins to swell up again, this time pop pop popping the entrance of her throat. It’s already more than thick enough to plug her airway, and all she can do is desperately suck increasingly small amounts of air in on every out stroke. Simon breaks into laughter as he watched his wife twitch her head back and forth, trying with no success to pull away from the dog and get a proper breath. “You little slut,” he teases. “I only told you to fluff him, not gobble his cock! Who knew you were into mutts?”

The fully engorged knot slams into her a final time, locking itself snug and pulsing in her gullet as Rottweiler cum begins filling her stomach. Now fully suffocating, Charlotte looks up at her husband pleadingly, soft frantic sounds escaping her stuffed mouth, but Simon shakes his head. “I’m not gonna ruin his fun. And it’s only five minutes; you’ll probably lose a few brain cells, but you’ll survive, I promise. Nighty night, bitch, you’ll still be in hell when you wake up.”

His wife’s eyes roll up into the back of her head and her body goes limp. Neither dog minds.


***

“Phew,” Charlotte says, fanning herself with one hand. “That just might be the hottest thing you’ve ever done for me.” The blonde’s appearance is back to normal again, with no sign of abuse as she relaxes with her husband on the couch upstairs.

“I knew you’d like it,” Simon says, and kisses her. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” she agrees, and kisses him back before facing the camera. “And we want to thank all of you so much, whether this is your first time tuning in or you’ve been here since the beginning. I truly can’t imagine doing this without you.”

Simon nods. “And we don’t just mean financially, though you guys are a huge help with that. Those dogs weren’t cheap! And every video requires hours and hours of editing, which we could never afford to do without your generous support.”

“Speaking of,” Charlotte adds, “We know that many of you out there keep requesting we do a livestream someday, but I promise, you don’t want to know how the sausage gets made.” She cups her hands beneath her unblemished breasts. “Obviously, my husband didn’t really tie these beauties that tight and then scrub them raw. Just like he didn’t actually drive fishhooks into them last month so he could hang me up by them while he fucked me. Or slice my Achilles tendons to ribbons that time I stood up without permission.”

“I know in our early videos some people worried over safety, but I think it’s pretty obvious by now that most of what you see on our channel is pure fantasy,” Simon says. “All that abuse and degradation and permanent physical damage just for fun and good sex? I could never treat my wife that way unless I genuinely saw her as something subhuman.”

“And can you imagine how I would feel in that situation?” Charlotte’s cheeks are flushed. “Knowing that the man who was supposed to love and protect me sees me that way? That he was happy to steal everything that made me who I am and lock me up in our own basement, and he’s going to keep treating me like this for the rest of my life?”

She takes a deep breath. “Aaaaaanyway, we’re getting a little off track. Like my husband was saying, we’re so grateful for every last like and comment and subscription. Even if you just watch our videos and do nothing else, we love, love, love getting to share this story of our lives with you.” She grins. “And if that version of me was real, just imagine how utterly wretched it would make her feel to know that there are so many of you out there watching her suffer. That people are using her miserable existence as masturbation fuel.” She closes her eyes and moans, savoring the mental image. “Imagine that sad little bitch crying herself to sleep in her cage every night.”

“Sounds like someone isn’t fully satisfied yet,” Simon observes with a grin. “Should we have a little bonus session? Maybe leave the cameras off this time so we can… just relax and enjoy ourselves?”

Charlotte’s eyes light up. “Ooh, you mean it?”

“Of course, sweetheart. It’s our anniversary, after all.”

They kiss a final time, long and loving. “And here’s to many more,” Charlotte breathes. “Many, many, many more…”