Sir’s Slut

The cold trail of spit running down my chin gave me only a moments distraction as it hung from chin for a second only to drip onto the bed. The ball in mouth tasted that horrible taste of latex as my jaw ached around it. My mind focused on Sir as he buckled the warm leather strap around my head. The two straps running up over my face, on each side of my nose, gave me an otherworldly look as I watched myself in the mirror in front of me. The sounds of my breathing as I…

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Casey Holt — Writer. Photographer. Born wanderer with a gypsy soul.

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Casey Holt

Casey Holt

Casey Holt — Writer. Photographer. Born wanderer with a gypsy soul.