I Thought I Was Better Than This.

I thought I was better than this.

I really thought I was better.

I told myself no man would ever talk to me like that — like I was a nothing. Like I was just a warm, wet hole waiting to be filled.

I thought I’d scream, slap him, walk away.

I thought I’d be proud.

But the first time he called me his stupid, needy whore —

I whimpered.

I fucking whimpered.

My thighs pressed together like I could stop it, like I could hide how soaking wet I was already, dripping through my panties like some dumb, desperate animal. It was instant.

Automatic.

Like my pussy heard the words before my brain could even catch up.

And once I felt it — that raw, aching, helpless need — I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

I wanted it. God, I fucking craved it.

I needed to be called pathetic.

Needed to be broken down, torn apart, made so small and worthless that the only thing left of me was a sloppy, soaking mess desperate to be used.

And he knew.

He saw right through me.

He saw how my cheeks flushed when he spat the word “cumdump” at me. How my breathing hitched when he said I was only good for milking cock, for swallowing every drop like a mindless, thankless little hole. He laughed — and I moaned.

Like the broken little slut he was making me. Like the dripping fucktoy I was meant to be.

Now I ache for it. I thrive on it. The more he degrades me, the dumber I get. The more he uses me, the wetter I get.

I’m not a girl anymore.

I’m not even a person.

I’m just a set of holes, a pathetic little thing built to be ruined, stretched, flooded with cock until I forget how to speak, how to think, how to be. I’m happiest on my knees, drooling, thighs shaking, mind blank, begging for his cock like it’s the only thing that can keep me alive.

I am his cumdump.

His toy.

His fuckhole.

And it’s so good.

It’s so right.

Every filthy name he spits at me just soaks my pussy more, makes my brain softer, makes me cling to him like the desperate, ruined little breeding whore I am.

I’m not worth anything else.

I don’t deserve anything else.

I’m just a needy, stupid, dripping mess, made to be used, made to be broken, made to be bred.

And God help me, I fucking love it. I live for it. I exist to be his worthless, soaking, mindless little slut.

And I always fucking will.