Ink darkened her body, the braids of her vows had been shorn from the sides of her head, she had piercings in vulgar places. Astrid… no, not Astrid. amateur This woman -this thing - was not my daughter! This whore, this reveler, this… no. Astrid was still there. This was my daughter, bearing the degradations of the one she swore herself to. She landed beside her god, standing straight-backed and unashamed, proud before the leers of the Ofanians, representing Iona like I Hardcore should have. It should’ve been me, dearest child. oral It should’ve been me with ink stabbed into my flesh, with hair shorn to shame, with metal defiling my black sanctity. It should’ve been me who was raped, who was used as entertainment, who was disgraced for all the world to see. Oh child, how you must suffer. Do you wish for death at nights? Do you stare at the veins in your wrists with longing? Do you curse my name with your sleeping breaths? You should. pov “Oh, that was amazing, Master,” Alexis moaned. “Still hurts?” we returned to the previous room. She pov told me it was Mac and immediately I said, “very pretty,” and as I reached down to pet her dog again she said, “Thanks.” “Anything, Mr. Hardcore Thompson. What might make that cock of yours get big again?" she oral asked. “Fuck,” I muttered. Did she recognise amateur him? Before organic chem midterms there was a major calculus assignment due. I could do anything. My heart beat so fast. Just black roll with it.