It comes and goes, that need, that primal urgency that can overwhelm me. I try to be a good girl, I truly do. Yes, I’m a slut, I’m a skank, and I’m a cheap set of holes. All that and more, and there come some days, rare ones, where I want to be so much more and so much less.

I want him to walk through the door and see me, except he doesn’t. He sees a warm mouth, C cup tits with pierced nipples, and two holes, one wet, one warm and tight. He doesn’t see me and honestly there isn’t a me to see. I am what he makes me and over time I see it. Broken, ruined, and desperate.

He grabs me by my neck and lifts me up, choking as he pulls me to his mouth, kissing me deep. No love, just need. Then with fearful strength, he throws me against the wall and I slide down, stunned. He needs to vent then and my body is the canvas to paint upon. I struggle to stand up, but he kicks my cunt, doubling me over. He needs it swollen, tighter. It’s never tight enough anymore unless his fist is shoved in it. He grabs my head and jerks it back up against the wall and rams his cock in my throat.