My name is Victoria and I am eighteen years old. I have a very skinny body with no lights, and I'm currently in an empty graveyard. I am tall but my body is muscular and small-assed. My hair is long, fair-skinned, and I have a sad and serious demeanor.
I'm originally from Russia but moved to Germany when I was younger. My family has always been strict and traditional, which is why I rebelled as a teenager. I got tattoos all over my body and started practicing BDSM.
One day, while walking through the hospital, I saw a knees-up scene that caught my attention. It was two men in black leather with gags and whips, playing with a woman wearing a jumpsuit, parka, scarf, sweater, and trench coat. She had blonde hair, viewed from distance, and her body was full of cotton blowing in the wind. Her lacy white footies were wet and her wavy hair made her look cute and petite. I fell in love with the scene immediately.
From that moment on, I started exploring my own kinks and fetishes. I joined a BDSM community online and found others who shared my interests. We would chat constantly about our fantasies, and eventually we met up in person to fulfill them. I always wore black leather and gloves, with high heels and sexy boots that made me look like a dominatrix.
I started dating a man named Andreas who was into the same things as me. We would go to empty graveyards and have sex in the snow while wearing skin-tight jumpsuits that showed off our perfect bodies. He had short, black hair and piercing blue eyes that always made me feel naughty.
One day, while we were having sex in the snow, he accidentally hit my head on a tombstone. I lost consciousness and woke up in the hospital with no memory of what happened. Andreas never visited me, and when I finally left the hospital, I realized that our relationship was over.
I moved to Italy after that and started working as an exotic dancer at a club called The Black Lace. It was there that I met Giovanni, an Italian man who had eyes that were like pools of liquid silver. We fell in love instantly, and he showed me the beauty of Italy through his eyes.
We would go on adventures to different parts of the country, always kissing and making love in the most romantic places. He was a gentleman who treated me like a queen, and I felt alive again.
But one day, while we were on a hike in the mountains, he fell off a cliff and died. I was devastated and couldn't believe that someone so perfect could be taken from me so soon.
I moved back to Germany after his death, but I could never forget him or the time we spent together. He had left an indelible mark on my heart, and even though he was gone, a part of him lived on in me forever.