A few things to smile about.

'Sex' is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.

I love being loud. I love moaning and yelling and crying out and screaming when I'm cumming. I love jerking off and hearing my own voice reverberate in an empty, cold apartment.

I love kissing. I love moving my lips over someone's... lips, hands, chest, neck, cock, thighs, pussy, legs. I love when my lips are swollen from the pressure of someone else's mouth.

I love biting. I love sinking my teeth into soft flesh and twisting, soft and hard, quick and slow, tight and tighter. And I love the marks my teeth leave. Beautiful little red circles of dented adoration.

I love licking. Especially when someone thinks I'll bite. A tongue curling up the neck or jaw line, tasting hot sweat and prickling on rough stubble.

I love hands. I love strong hands, a little rough, so I can feel the friction when they slide over my arms, legs, stomach, breasts.

I love how wet I get. I love that I get dripping, soaking wet in copious rivers. I love feeling it drip down my thighs and, when kneeling naked, over my ankles.

I love pressure. I love feeling the pressure of someone pushing against me. I love feeling their weight against my body. Particularly if I am squeezed between them and a wall.

I love when my nipples get hard against the fabric of my shirt, and every movement incites their tightening.

I love sucking and nibbling and teasing with my lips.

I love chocolate pudding. Not in a sexual way, but just as a side note. I really love chocolate pudding.

I love being squeezed. I love being groped and claimed and manhandled roughly. I love when I am taken and held and pushed and enclosed.

I love to struggle, and push against hands and legs and fight. I love when they catch me against a wall and tell me to stop struggling.

I love feeling a thigh between my legs. When I press down against them against my will, and feel them against my clit. I love when they press between my legs, and I want to stop moaning, but I can't.

I love leaving a spot of wet cum on someone's pants. I want them to feel it soaking through their pants and warm on their leg.

I love warm, dry towels.

I love feeling ashamed of how wet I am.

I love feeling someone get hard against me. I love when all of a sudden I can feel the swelling of a cock against me. It makes me ache and writhe. I love grinding against it. It takes my breath away.

I love when he puts his fingers in my mouth to suck, keeping my head steady, fighting with my tongue.

I love when a hand is slid into my panties. I love trying to move away from it but feeling a hand squeeze my cunt.

I love having my hands pinned behind my head. I love when I try to push hands away, and immediately my hands are pinned back.

I love blushing. I love when someone can actually catch me off guard enough to feel nervous, ashamed, embarrassed. I love the heat rising into my cheeks and having to look away from the rest of the room to keep my cool.

I love dark nail polish. I love the way it looks on short, blunt nails. It looks like damage could be done.

I love when my skirt is pulled up. I love when it's pushed up and I struggle by shifting up, but it doesn't matter. My skirt is still around my waist.

I love begging. I love being on the verge of tears and asking, pleading; asking 'not here, no, please stop.'

I love fingers over my panties. I love the friction of cotton on my clit. I love soaking my panties against my will. I love fingers pressing against my pussy through them, just teasing.

I love when my panties are pulled down. I love when they're ripped off and I'm left exposed, wet, ashamed, humiliated for wanting it so badly.

I love when it takes one hand to pull out his cock. I love feeling skin and swelling against my thigh. It makes me shake.

I love being fucked. I love being fucked roughly, and painfully. I love when he shoves his cock inside my cunt and fucks me so hard it makes me gasp.

I love when his hand goes over my mouth. I love trying to move my face away but feeling him press my head so hard into the wall it hurts. I love when my mouth is covered so hard I struggle to breathe.

I love when he cums inside me. I love feeling his cock exploding in me.

I love music with good lyrics. I like words that I can soak into and that can soak into me. I love Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan. I love her soft melodies against his earnest growl.

I love when he pulls back and puts his cock away. I love that he barely looks at me.

I love superheroes. Though, the outfits are hit or miss. Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Silk Spctre? Amazing. Powergirl, Rogue, Supergirl... Leave room for improvement.

I love when I am told to cum for him. I love looking around to make sure no one is watching and his hand grips my chin. I don't want to make him tell me twice, and my hand moves to my pussy.

I love feeling my cum drip down onto my legs as I rub my clit furiously. I love pushing my fingers into my pussy and feeling it pulse on my fingers as I ache to cum.

I love when his hand goes back over my mouth to shut me up. I love when he tells me not to stop, but to shut my mouth.

I love cumming on my fingers. I love soaking my fingers, feeling it coating my skin.

I love sucking my fingers clean when I'm done. Licking over and in between, getting every drop with my tongue, eyes on him.

I love that he finishes ripping off my panties and shoves them in his pocket. I love that he makes me walk back out with a tiny little skirt and no panties, exposed and nervous for the rest of the night. Knowing that people will point and whisper. It makes me feel exposed, unnerved.

I love the sip from his drink he tips into my mouth. I love the cold of ice and vodka as I'm hot and flustered.

I love the buzz and breathlessness after I cum. I love that I have to steady myself on his arm even though I hate him for doing it to me.

I love bad jokes.

I love good desserts.

I love experiences which I have to decide whether or not I enjoyed later.

1950s shit is hot.

I'm waiting for him to come home. I'm always nervous in these moments before he gets home. He'll either be sober and somber, or drunk and hateful. I never know which I like more.
Dinner is on the stove and ready to plate as soon as I hear his key in the lock. Every time I hear the elevator open I tense and run for my ladle. It is always the elevator sound that I almost don't hear. When his key slides into the lock, I am dishing out rice, and sliding chicken onto a plate. When he opens the door I am almost to the second plate. By the time his coat is hanging, I am ready, two full dinner plates in hand.
It takes him two tries to hang up his coat, which lets me know he's the latter of the two options. He is unhappy with dinner as soon as he sets it on the table. He walks over and gives me a brief, dismissive kiss on the side of the temple and sits down. I am waiting for a rant about work, to hear about how stupid his boss is or how much he loathes his secretary but he is quiet as he takes the first bite.
He takes a second.
Out of nowhere he flips the plate, rice splattering onto the floor, and glass shattering around me. My breath is caught and it is a long moment of fear before I even realize I am holding my breath.
"What the fuck is that?"
I wait and he slaps me across the face.
"What the fuck is that?"
I open my mouth to speak and feel tears well up. He slaps me again across the face and stands as I being to tremble.
"Stupid bitch." He grabs me by my hair, tightening his fingers and making my scalp burn. He pulls me up and out of the chair, tears running black mascara down my cheeks. "You stupid bitch, do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"I do!" I finally cry out, voice trembling.
He stops. "Good." He slaps me again. "She's slow but she's listening" he says to no one in particular. "So what the fuck is this?" He points to the food on the floor and pushes my head towards it. "This is shit." He shoves my face closer. "This is dog food, you cunt." His fingers tighten in my hair and I start to whimper over the tears. He continues to curse under his breath. "You're making me eat dog food, you little inconsiderate cunt." He finally shoves my face into the floor. "Then eat like a dog. Off the floor." He shoves my face harder into the floor, my cheek flush against the wood. "You don't appreciate what I give you, so eat like a dog."
I breathe hard, waiting. He turns my face. "EAT." I open my mouth, unsure. "Eat off the floor like the ungrateful dog you are." He squats down and watches as I take small bites, licking, tasting everything I use to clean the wood, tasting dinner, tasting shame, tasting my tears as they drip down. "Good girl."
He watches me closely and then turns my head again. Rice and carrots stick to my cheek. He stands and places a foot on my other cheek, pressing me harder and harder into the floor. "Ungrateful cunt."
"Yes, Sir." I squeak out.
He removes his boot. "Do you know what you're good for? Get up."
I stumble to my feet, wiping my face, pieces of food dropping to the floor.
"You know what you're good for. Do it." I get down on my knees, and unzip his pants. He slaps me softly on the face. It's the closest he can come to affection right now.
I lean in and begin to lick his cock. It is already swollen, the tip red and ready to drip. I take it into my mouth quickly as he begins to get restless with my tongue. He moans.
He grabs the sides of my face and starts to fuck my mouth slowly, almost calmly. It is the only time he will be calm tonight.
In full control of my head, he is getting faster. And though I want to struggle, I continue to cry, simply letting him slide his cock into my throat. It works my mouth roughly, sliding out slowly and then pounding it back in. Over and over he takes long drags and then violent thrusts. I whimper, spit dripping from my mouth and onto my dress. His hands tighten on my face, and his thumbs go on either side of my mouth to hold it open.
"Fuck, you do know what you're good for." I can taste his precum as he drags his cock over my tongue.
Finally he pulls out and I reach up to wipe my mouth of spit and makeup and pieces of the floor I came from. "Bend over."
I do willingly, and he pulls my dress up in the back. He had me stop wearing panties months ago, preferring only garter belts and stockings to the bother of underwear. He reaches underneath me as I bend over the table and I am humiliated at how wet I am. "Such a hungry little dog, aren't you?"
He shoves his cock in me and I moan. "No, puppy. Bark for me." I am timid. Shocked, really. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "BARK."
"Arf!" I yelp out, just wanting my hair back.
As I let it out he starts to fuck me. "Don't moan, puppy. Just bark."
I nod, biting my lip and trying to keep all sounds in. I reach my hand down between my legs and tempt fate.
He fucks me hard, and I feel my cunt squeezing him hard. As I slam into the table, my hips begin to ache and I feel he has finally chipped the bones underneath.
I want him to explode inside me. I want to feel it dripping down my thighs as I kneel down and clean up glass and food. I rub my own clit furiously, crying out, loudly. "ARF ARF ARF!"
He moans, shooting hard into me. He bucks against my ass, holding it tightly before letting me go. He stumbles off to bed, and I feel it begin to drip as I kneel down and pick up my first bits of rice.

She is either his slave or his despot.

My hands are tied behind my back and there is a collar around my neck. Attached to that collar is a leash and attached to that leash is the owner of my submission tonight. He keeps me a step or two ahead of him at all times, pulling me around. He places various things in my bound hands, from his drink to a crop to his clothed cock. Every time I touch his cock he squeezes my arm and I gasp, catching my breath in my throat.
"I have a gift for you." He whispers into my ear. I smile, giddy, excited to see what he has brought for me. "You're such a good girl." His hands trail down my arms and I shiver, goosebumps blooming underneath his fingers. They land on the ropes around my wrists and begin to untie the knots. The ropes fall between our feet and his hands work mine, rubbing the marks and tingling finger tips.
I look around for my present, almost bubbling over with excitement but all I see is a large empty space with a few people milling around. He lifts my hand forward and extends his finger to a pretty girl, dressed in a lovely little black outfit. She is pretty but not generally my type.
"I want you to break her." He whispers. "She's a pain slut. Do whatever you like to her."
My chest swells. I am breathless with the idea. He has known about my sadist tendencies but never seen them. I want him to be proud of what his girl can do. His hands are on my sides and hips, squeezing them, warming me. I feel my nipples tighten to the point of pain. I hear the metal on the collar clank a little. "When I take off this leash, take her." I nod and feel myself get aggressive, animalistic. I start to growl softly in the back of my throat and I hear the softest laugh.
He reaches down and squeezes my cunt through my panties, and I'm already wet. I grind hard into his hand and he pulls me back up straight. He pulls off the leash, leaving the collar around my neck - letting me know I still belong to him.
The second it is off I am ready to pounce. I walk towards her in fast, gaping steps. She is staring at me with fear in her eyes and an excitement in her ragged breath.
I immediately grab her by the hair and pull her to the floor, putting her on her knees. She squeals a little and I tell her to shut the fuck up. She is on all fours and I pull her up so she is kneeling.
I begin to walk circles around her. I want her to feel like live bait. She swallows hard as I walk slowly, stopping behind her. I walk over and stroke her hair softly, teasingly. "Miss?"
I walk around her. "Open your mouth." She does and I spit, closing her mouth. "I told you to shut the fuck up." I slap her across the face hard. "Now swallow."
I grab her by the hair again and push her down. Her hands reach for the floor and I stop. "No. Hold you hands behind your back." She does and I force her to lean down, holding herself up just by her own strength and will. I reach down and dig my nails into the flesh of her ass. She whimpers and I begin to spank her hard, landing smack after smack after smack on her ass. I pound her ass red, feeling the skin warm and swell. I use both hands until they ache, and keep pushing until finally she cries out loudly. I smile and stop.
"Get on all fours." I sit on her back, straddling her like a backwards pony. "I thought you were a pain slut." I spank her once. She cries out. "Count." I spank her again and she whimpers out a 'one'. I smack her on the back of the thighs and she continues to count. "Tell me what you are in 3 words."
"I'm a slut."
"Four words."
"I'm a dirty slut."
"Five words."
"I'm a dirty fucking slut."
"Seven words."
"I'm a dirty fucking cunt rag slut."
"Now tell me that every time you get smacked from now on."
She screams it as a hit her ass, her thighs, the bottoms of her feet. She screams it as a grab her hair and pull her back onto the floor and spread her legs, slapping her inner thighs in stinging swipes. She whimpers it as I begin to slap directly onto her pussy, which is already wet. Every smack ends with my fingers pushing into her clit, making her push forward for another hard whack.
"Do you like that?" She nods, whimpering. I spit on her and smack her again harder. She cries out and then moans as I more forcefully rub her clit. "Do you know why?" She shakes her head. I spit and slap harder, grinding the palm of my hand into her clit. "Because you're a dirty." Smack. "Fucking." Smack. "Cunt-rag." Smack. "Slut" I pull her underwear aside and shove two fingers into her, fucking her hard and making her cry out.
I pull my fingers out of her. "Shut the fuck up, cunt." I look back at him and he is watching calmly, hand over the hard cock still in his pants. I smile at him and he smiles at me, nodding. I lick my lips as I watch his hand move. I turn back to her. A man is standing nearby with a drink and I wave him over, taking the drink from his hands. I grab her by the hair and drag her over to kneel in front of me as I sit in a chair and slide forward. I pull off my panties and spread my legs. I am soaked. "You know what you're good for."
She nods and goes in hungrily, licking and sucking my clit, her tongue pushing inside me. She leans back and uses the tip of her tongue and I take the opportunity. I pour the drink down over my clit and she laps up vodka and cum in gulps. Her makeup is smearing, black running down her face. I finish with the drink and pull her hair back to slap her. "Lick the rest off the floor."
She goes to work, her tongue licking and dabbing. I pull the lime out of the glass and push her on her back again, squeezing the remnants of lime juice in the wedge onto her cunt as I kneel over her. I slide up to her face and begin to rub my clit, pushing fingers into my pussy, dripping vodka and cum into her mouth as I get closer and closer to cumming on her face.
I look up and he stands, walking over to me. He gets behind me and violently shoves me down until I am on all fours over her. He pulls out his cock and without a word or a hesitation, shoves it inside me. I squeeze my pussy around it and moan loudly as his fingers find my clit and start to work it roughly. His cock swells and I push hard back against him. I squirt onto her face, and she moans, watching his cock pound me from only inches away. He is fucking me relentlessly, and I am so close I can feel blood running through my veins and under my skin. He can tell I am getting ready to cum, and pulls me up by the hair, putting a hand on my throat. He tightens and I am immediately light headed and caught off guard. I finally whisper "Please?" Choking out one word in place of a real question.
"Yes, cum for me. Cum all over her face."
I scream out, cumming hard all over his cock, cum dripping down onto her pretty, mascara smeared face. I have not earned his cum yet, that will wait for later. He pulls out of me and lifts me onto his lap, letting me curl up. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck and whisper into his ear. He laughs and nods, looking down at the girl.
"She said, 'don't fucking wash your face'." I smile and thank him. The girls gets up and I hear her ask if she can say thank you but he waves her off. She is gone and his lips move to my ear. "Good girl."