Dead whores keep better secrets about snuff fantasy porn

It was my worst beating yet, right out of a snuff fantasy porn movie. You punched me hard in the tits, knocking the wind out of me. “Tell me you’re a dumb cunt.” you ordered. “Nothing but a druggie slut.” I slurred the words and that seemed to piss you off more. You loved beating me and nothing I did was ever right. I don’t know why I stayed with you except for the good drugs that you fed me to pimp me out. “Show me your pussy.” I pulled up my skirt to reveal my nasty, bumpy razor-burnt snatch. Blood oozed from around my clitty where I had been fucked raw. A trickle of cum flowed down my thigh, stale and musky. “Look at you, you filthy slut. At least go douche yourself out before your next client.” Your hand shot out, busting my lip. “Please, sir, I apologize.” I lisped between broken lips. “I just need a little candy to get me right.” You shook your head, pulling out the needle. I felt heaven flow into my veins and my pussy got hot. I was ready to fuck again. I knew your dirty little secret too. You only liked to sniff my ripe pussy at the end of my shift when it was still full of fuck sauce. A couple of lines and a whiff of cum and you were jerking furiously, degrading me, pulling my hair. I opened my mouth to catch your load. Deep down I knew you were a cum-slurping fairy faggot, but if I dared speak that truth, I knew I would be dead. Maybe I would be better that way. Then you could rent out my cold dead pussy to all of the freaks who loved necrophilia phone sex and you could have cold leftovers for dinner. As this thought went through my mind, I felt your fist slam into my head and I was out cold.

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