I bite down on my lip hard enough to wince,
to keep me here to face it.
“Fuck,” he pants. “You’d never admit it, but you need me and my fuckin’ mouth on that pussy or you ain’t makin’ it to noon.”
I want to call him a liar.
I want to tear the words out of the air before it sticks.
But he’s not wrong.
Big bad Baby can’t even fuck herself right.
I need hands.
A mouth.
Anyone willing to empty me out.
I’ll always need someone.
Ben.
The next Boy.
The next warm body.
Anybody but me.
“All that fight for what?” he mutters.
“Still ended up right here, Baby.”
He bites his bottom lip, full of himself.
“Still ended up mine.”
No sense in saying I’m not.
Could spit the words back in his face.
Could scream the words until my throat splits.
Could make a speech while on all fours,
wrists tied,
legs spread,
waiting to see what he'll do to me.
Yeah, real powerful.
So in control.
I test the cuffs.
It helps feeling the limits,
