Today he needs his whore. Not someone with whom he can make love, but someone he can fuck. She is special. She is not just anyone; she is his someone. With time and persistent effort, he has earned that right to claim her as his own, but only because she has granted him that right through her gift of submission.
Naked, on hands and knees, she kneels. She knows his wants, his needs, and his desires. She wants nothing more than to fulfill every one. Even if that means subjugating herself to the lowest of lows, because she believes in him. She loves him. She trusts him.
She knows that he will not think less of her when he is finished. He will take her in his arms and care for her wounds. He will hold her tight and reassure her that she is his, and his alone. He will tell her that she is nothing less of a human and her value is not decreased because she willingly subjects herself to such monstrosities. He will tell her that he loves and adores her. She is his. He is hers.
On bended knees she offers herself to him knowing that his impending wrath will not be pleasant. He will use her. He will whip her. He will fuck her and do vile things to her body. And as he runs his fingers through her hair and pulls her head back tight, he leans down, their lips barely touching. She sees the fire and passion in his eyes the split second before he devours her in the hungriest of kisses. This… This is what she lives for. This is her purpose. This is her calling. This is her desire. And neither holds anything back.
