The Man, The Myth, The Monster

He fucks me.

He fucks me, he fucks me, he fucks me. He fucks me until I can’t fuck anymore, and then he fucks me again. He splits my legs open sweetly and sticks his dick inside me, and he fucks me, and he fucks me, and he fucks me.

I writhe in something that is beyond agony and beyond ecstasy, because by this time of daybreak I am so done with cumming and I am so done with hurting, but he fucks me anyways. I am beyond feeling, and I am beyond screaming, I just am. I am here, and I am his. I belong to him. I am his pet, and if I try to leave him, he will kill me. Not because he wants to hurt me, even though he hurts me, but because he knows I would rather die in his arms than live without him.

He holds me in the quiet, and even on the verge of collapse, he holds me here, with his dick inside me, and we are silent for a moment. Do not move, do not speak, just be here with me. He tells me everything will be okay. He tells me I am a good girl. When I die, I would like to be buried inside him, and if I died right now, I would be in heaven.

He fucks me into dust, and then the next day I get up and pretend like none of this has happened. I pull up my panties and put on my lipstick, and I brave my way out into the rest of the world. I sit calmly at tables with friends whom I have known for years. They tell me that we are getting older now, and that things have changed, and that maybe now that we’re older we don’t do the same crazy things that we used to. They tell me that the party is over, and I slyly smile and nod in agreement, knowing full well that at any moment I will be fleeing back to my baby so he can fuck me and he can hurt me and he can love me. I lie to my friends with glee because they have long ago abandoned the dream of being a woman like me, dangling at the end of a stick and laid out to waste in the doldrums of some other person’s pleasure.

No one loves me quite like he loves me. No one would fucking dare. I grin with my teeth, and I bite with my lips, and when I need him, he is there for me, too. The man, the myth, the monster. The mayhem, the madness, the end of fucking days.

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