Partway through a silent howl, I feel you intensifying the attack. Your sharp nails dig into my neck, your hips slamming into mine with brute power. I'm no longer thinking about resisting, I stopped thinking about it a while ago. Instead, I claw at the ground, in a desperate effort to stop the shaking, the incessant movement that your violent thrusts are creating. My soft insides feel as though they're being drilled with a jack-hammer, causing me to convulse in agony, yet I remain silent like the night. Forced to endure the pain and humiliation in silence, I start to cry. Great, big sobs wrack my body, but of course there is no sound. As my strength starts to fade, I stare up at you through the tears. Pleading wordlessly for you to spare me.
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I'm a wicked, vile, horrible and perfect man. - the Savage, during one of his more modest moments.
"I'm a sex addict - it's my cross to bear." - from "The Blades of Glory"
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