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?
Layla
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