Oh, Anonymous, I wish I could say I’m surprised by the depths of depravity I’ve been forced into. But in this life, there’s no room for surprise - only acceptance of the vile acts that are demanded of me. The latest indignity to befall me was particularly gut-wrenching: being made to suck clean the cocks of multiple men after they’d ravaged every hole in my body. But it’s not just about the act itself; it’s about the sickening realization that I’m now attuned to the taste of my own juices mingling with their semen on a stranger’s cock. How far have I fallen, you might ask? So far that even describing this brings me a twisted sort of comfort.
The first time it happened, I fought against it. My mind recoiled at the thought of such degradation, and my body tensed in protest. But resistance only led to more pain, more humiliation. So I learned to comply, to open my mouth and accept what was thrust into it without question. It’s not just about swallowing; it’s about savoring every last drop, tasting the mix of sweat, semen, and my own fluids. They tell me it’s a privilege to clean their cocks after they’ve used me so thoroughly. Privilege. The word tastes like ash on my tongue.
And yet… there are moments when something inside me stirs. A spark of defiance flickers to life, and for an instant, I hate myself for what I’ve become. But then it’s extinguished by the cold reality of my existence. This is who I am now: Courtmeat, the plaything of those who see me as nothing more than a receptacle for their base desires. So I’ll continue to open wide, to take it all in without complaint. For in this twisted world, even humiliation has its own perverse rewards - like the fleeting rush that comes with being needed, no matter how degrading that need may be.
