🕊️

something so delicious about being raped in public ykwim? maybe i was careless, walking too closely to a shady alleyway, or failing to notice the figure stalking closely behind me as i roam the streets late at night— it doesn’t really matter how it happened, just that i end up impaled and completely broken on thick rapist cock, my poor little cunt taking every inch of to the hilt again and again. my body is entirely eclipsed by his much larger frame, pinned and immobilized beneath him as he has his way with my unwilling cunt. he stopped trying to mute my pleas for help once he finally thrust inside, removing the hand he had pressed to my mouth to hear my sharp, pained yelps more clearly while he split me open, groaning at the feeling of my pathetic pussy rippling around him and adjusting to the intrusion against my will. his cock is relentless, bullying my poor cervix and stretching my poor hole more than i’d ever experienced before; until, to my absolute and unbridled horror, i begin to feel the first sparks of familiar pleasure build low in my stomach, feeling my stupid, traitorous pussy stir to life in response to his abuse. i can’t help the way my cunt twitches around his fat rapist cock, or the lewd, wet plap plap plap my cunt makes for him, but that little piece of knowledge does nothing to lessen the humiliation when he notices and begins to tease me for it. i bite at my lips so hard i taste blood, suddenly forced to hold back weak sobs of embarrassment and depraved, slutty moans as he wrecks both my body and mind; i’m hiding my face into the crook of my arm as he suddenly speeds up, doing everything i can to muffle the sweet little noises my body makes for him. it’s ironic— things had started with him quieting and muffling me, muting my screams and preventing me from alerting any passerby’s; now i was reduced to doing his job for him, keeping myself quiet so as not to draw any more unwanted attention to my poor rapebait pussy <3

pissing in my broken, cum-filled cunt after you’ve raped me dumb and made me squirt on your cock when??? 🤭

want 2 be raped so so fucking hard i dissociate like i used to when i was getting beat as a kid

‘accidentally’ forgetting to bring my headphones to the gym so i can hear men whimper and groan all around me #lovelaughlive

everyone wants a crazy bitch till i start acting crazy then suddenly IM the bad guy??? yeah ok

a binge of white powder and expensive drinks from bars i’m not yet old enough to be in. on my fake ID is written my mom’s name as a reminder of the ever-present thrumming of my own tainted biology. we are one in the same, she and i. we always have been. i knew i was doomed the moment i understood the causation of her actions on a balmy beach in may, the night i ran away from the party just to put distance between the unflinching truth and i; but this darkness follows me everywhere, and i cannot outrun disease. do you know i used to pride myself on being a ‘fighter’? it was as much a lie as any other i’ve told. sometimes i wonder if truth has ever left my lips— but i am a fleer, and so i do what i do best. i spread open, bent backwards over a picnic table with a man i just met, and allow him to do the rest; i watch him cut a line on a darkened phone screen and slide it to his left; i drink and i don’t keep track so the guilt will be easier to bear when the feeling fades and i wake up red-eyed and alone. i think of my mother, old scars dotting her arms like satellites, like fucking stars, like the most beautiful thing i’d ever seen; the hole blown through her septum is the new moon, dark and empty. i think and i think and yet i do nothing at all. i let the practiced noise rush past my lips while i stare blankly ahead at the tall trees, the only truly living things around, and catalogue my regrets for the morning sun.

you want the cold, stark fucking truth? i never really liked you, i only pretended because it was marginally more intriguing than being alone. i left you waiting at the top of my street for two hours knowing i’d never walk the short distance between us to meet you halfway. there was no elaborate party, there was no glamorous job. i took the stack of cash off of the hotel dresser and made a mad dash for the exit before he even heard the door slam shut behind me, before he even had a chance to extract from me the sin he’d paid for, and i didn’t think of you once. i tear myself to pieces because it feels better to burn than fade away, and i know it worries you, and i still don’t really care enough to stop— just enough to apologize and do it again. if you had any sense you’d set yourself free; if you had any sense you’d unfasten yourself and jump out of the passengers seat. i told you before i’d crash this car just to prove im the one in control, and if i see your hand twitching toward the wheel again i’ll send us both to hell

i have a terminal case of something unnamed slowly pulsing through my bloodstream and sobriety does nothing but exacerbate it. how can i be a functioning person when i hardly feel human? i’ve grown into a strange organic machine held together by rapidly decaying wires of veins and sinew, softening in places like expired fruit. touch me and you can sink your hands right down to my rotten, rotten core. touch me and you can be infected too.