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I’ve been with my old man since I was a very young teen. My parents were crackheads and would loan me out for crack like I was a rental car. My boyfriend was kind and gentle before he became hooked on crack, too. Now he loans me out for crack and money. For a few dollars, you can do whatever you want with me. You can fuck me in any hole, beat me, bite me… anything. I get abused so much that I’ve gotten used to it and I no longer cry. And I’ve swallowed so much cum that I’ve required a taste for semen. If you don’t fuck me hard and rough, then I can’t orgasm. My head is so screwed up that pain=pleasure. I need a man who fucks me like he trying to kill me. Take all of your anger and stress, and take it out on me.
I was just about to go home with a measly eighty bucks and just take a beating from my crazy old man when a red sedan pulled up beside me. I thought my luck had changed but the passenger pulled a gun out and fear took over my brain. My heels were too high to run so I just got in the back seat. The passenger jumped in the back and pulled his hard cock out. I knew what he wanted and I bent my head down to suck his dick without being told. The driver drove down a dark alley behind an abandoned building. The driver joined us in the back seat and forced me to ride his dick while I jerked off his partner in crime. I fucked and sucked them both until I was a cum stained mess. When it was all over they took my money, forced me from the car, and drove away. When I finally made it home, my boyfriend didn’t believe anything happened and he beat my ass for “telling lies”. I hate my life.
My boyfriend wasn’t happy with the small amount of cash I brought home. He showed his displeasure by punching me in my eye. He demanded that I fix steak and eggs for dinner. I overcooked the steak and he yanked me by my hair. I don’t mean to upset him so much, I try really hard to be perfect. My tears made him angry and he tore my panties off and brutally ass fucked me.
“I’ll give you something to cry about, bitch!!”, he screamed.
It hurt so bad I thought he was fucking with razor blades. He pounded my ass hole as blood ran down my thighs. My cries for him to stop only turned him on more. He came inside me and left me bleeding on the living room floor. I need to leave him, but where would I go. It gets really cold on the city streets.
A cookie is a slab of crack that is the size of a chocolate cookie. A cookie is the reason I’ve been on my knees sucking dick for the last two hours. My jaws are killing me and my lips are swollen. My crackhead boyfriend gave me to the gang again for a fucking cookie. I’ve sucked dick after dick without a break with tears running down my face. I’ve swallowed so much semen that my stomach feels full. When I try to stop and cry for a break they hit me in my head and threatened to kill me. Why do I keep letting this happened to me? Why can’t I leave this terrible relationship? I’ve been with my old man since I was young teenager, my parents practically sold me to him for drugs. When I run away he always finds me and he beats me like a runaway slave. One of the gangster’s dick was so big that I threw up, but still, I had to keep sucking until his warm cum filled my throat. Someone rescue me.
From day one my man has drilled it into my head that I belong to him. Like a branded cow belongs to a farmer, I belong to my crack-addicted boyfriend. When he looks at me he sees dollar signs. He doesn’t work because he makes me sell my ass to the highest bidder. I walk the streets and sell myself on the internet to keep my old man high. Sometimes I fuck so many men in one day that my pussy lips painfully swell up. Sometimes the johns get rough and abuse me with vicious acts of violence. I come home with bruises, black eyes, and bite marks and my old man doesn’t blink an eye. As long as I keep crack in his pipe he’s happy. But if I don’t make enough money that’s a guaranteed ass-whooping’. Why can’t I leave this terrible relationship?
I should have known something was up when my man started being extra nice to me. He took me out to eat and brought me a new outfit, something hasn’t done in years. When we were heading home, he passed our street and headed towards the 5th Ward Bloods trap house. I started begging for him not to take me there and he said I owned him for dinner and the outfit. Dread filled my body and tears fell from my eyes. He had to drag me to the door because I put up a fight. He finally knocked me out with one punch to my jaw. I woke up on a dirty mattress with a gangster huffing and puffing on top of me. When he got done fucking me the next thug took his turn. Seven thugs fucked me before they gave me a break. I had dry cum stains all over my body. I was used and abused for three days before my old man came back to get me.
I was having a hot shower after having sex with a smelly john. The hot water felt so good hitting against my flesh. I was also enjoying a few moments of quiet reflection when my man burst into the bathroom. He pulled me from the shower by my hair also causing the shower curtain and rod to come crashing down. He dragged me into the bedroom and flung me against the wall. He pulled his leather belt from his pants and started beating me.
I cried out, “Why, why, what did I do!”
But he wouldn’t answer me. He just kept swinging his belt. He always waits for me to be in the shower to abuse me. He knows that wet flesh equals more pain. Over and over again he hit me with his belt until my body was covered in welts. I found out later that I got beat because of a dirty cup left in the sink, his dirty cup.
My man has a serious crack addiction. He keeps me around to keep his crack pipe full. If the cash is right my man will let you have me. Last night, he took me to a new client. The client looked so sweet, like someone’s grandfather. He was sweet and gentle at first, but when my man left I saw face change into pure evil. He punched me so hard that I flew across the room. He was a true sadist, he couldn’t get off unless he was causing pain. He pulled me up from the floor by my hair and dragged me to his bedroom. He got me on my knees and forced he cock so far into my throat that my eyes watered and I nearly threw up. But the worse part about this cruel man was that he was a biter. He bit me all over my body. My screams turned him on and he bit me harder. When my crackhead boyfriend finally came to pick me up I was a bloody mess. He didn’t say anything about my appearance. He just took the money and we drove to the crack house.
From sunup to sundown, I walk the streets selling my body. My boyfriend counts on me to keep a roof over our head and crack in his pipe. Every time I get in a strange man’s car it a gamble. There are some sick sadistic men that enjoy causing pain. I’ve gotten beaten up so many times that I’m lucky to still be alive. If I don’t bring home enough money to keep my old man high all night then he’ll be the one beating my ass. My old man loves to torture me with knives, hot irons, and leather belts. My body is covered in evidence of his physical abuse. He’s all I’ve known since I was a very young girl so I can’t leave him. Maybe I’m as sick as those sadistic johns because I can’t leave my abuser. Do I like the pain and punishment?
Three members of the 5th Ward Bloods kicked down the door of our home looking for my old man. He owned them $500 and they wanted their money NOW!! I hadn’t seen my old man in a few days and now I knew why. They forced me at gunpoint to call him. Once I had him on the phone, the leader threatened to kill me. I guess my evil old man told him he didn’t give a shit because the leader hung up with a shocked look on his face.
I thought I was going to die. But I got lucky, they fucked me instead. They fucked me in my ass brutally until warm blood ran down my thighs. Over and over again they ass fucked me. I hoped the neighbors would hear my cries of pain and call the police, but they never did anything when my old man beat my ass so I shouldn’t have been surprised. When they got bored with fucking me, they moved on to torture. They burnt me with cigarettes and cut me with knives. Before they left they beat me black and blue. Then they held me down and with a knife carved “You’re Next” on my back, a message to my crackhead old man.