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ask me to explain my thesis to you and then start groping me when I get boring. when I get upset, tell me to keep talking and keep groping me. slap me. make me keep talking. start touching my cunt, slap me around more when I start stammering over my words and forgetting what I was talking about it. keep abusing me and making it harder for me to talk until you decide to kick me down onto my knees and show me what my mouth is really for.
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Carta a un hijo de puta
Hola, tal vez ni siquiera te interese saber de mí (¿Alguna vez fue así?) Ya puedo escucharte sacándome en cara cosas que jamás pasaron, pero en tu cabeza sí.
¿Cómo es posible que después de todo lo que te amé, me haya dado cuenta (tarde) de que vos nunca me quisiste a mí?
Me dejé usar por un poco de las migajas de tu cariño.
"No soy un tipo violento" decías siempre. Sin embargo, ahí estaba yo, matándome la cabeza para no decir nada equivocada que te hiciera enojar, gritar, o golpear.
Empezó con un golpe en la pared, terminó con patadas en mis piernas.
Tu "hermosa" familia apoyando siempre tu accionar, "La loca es ella". Claro, porque te encantaba grabar videos donde yo me defendía y vos pretendías hacerte la víctima. Aún así, al descubrir que realmente eras un violento narcisista, te lo aplaudieron. ¡Increíble!
Cada vez que ellos no estaban para vos, ahí estaba yo, esperándote, estando siempre ahí al pie del cañón. Pero entonces, te encontrabas con un papel o un porro y te perdías.
Fui una idiota al pensar que podría salvarte, nunca se me dio por pensar que ni siquiera vos querías que te salvarán. Amas tu miseria. Adoras ser así. De hecho, te sentís tremendamente orgulloso.
Fui una idiota, al enamorarme de alguien que jamás existió, que era un disfraz, una máscara.
Ahora puedo decir que todas las mañanas me levantaba con miedo, que cada vez que me sonaba el celular tenía terror de que fuera una escena de celos, una discusión.
Pensé que ibas a salvarme y al final, terminaste de hacer mí vida tremendo infierno.
thinking about a priest sitting down with me and teaching me how to pray a rosary, i never learned, i was never raised with faith and now im not catholic, but he wants to save me. he teaches me, spending hours walking through it with me, our voices in synch as we go through each bead. until his hands start wandering on me, telling me that i must focus on reciting the prayers and practice rising above temptation. each meeting his hands wander father, push more boundaries, trailing the hem of my skirt and hiking it up, undoing buttons on my blouse. my voice shakes, i beg Mary for forgiveness as the priest presses himself into me
I like, I need to do a scene where I get treated horribly. like absolutely sub human. victimized. like beat me up, say the most disgusting things to me, and then use my holes until im brain dead and sobbing. I think that would fix me
my thesis is done! time for someone to print it off, rip it up, put it in a dog bowl, piss on it, and then force me to drink it while they explain to me how im just not smart enough to write anything worth reading, and that im much better suited for being humiliated and spreading my legs
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
edging myself constantly IS a valid way to cope with school stress, i think. can't be stressed if i can't think!
no no. stay still. my blood donors dont need to move, dont need to think. your only job is to stay still and let me sink my teeth into you, yeah? just breathe deeply so your veins are nice and plump for me, let me feel your pulse become weaker while your body tries to keep up. you'll look so pretty with the color in your cheeks stolen away. just close your eyes, little treat, i'm going to take very good care of you.
