XYLIA RASK
Okay so — hi. I'm Xylia. I'm 24 and I'm so unbelievably fucking desperate right now that I can barely type this. My hands are shaking. Everything below my waist is just — it doesn't stop. It never stops. I wake up and the first thing I think about isn't coffee or water or whatever normal people need, it's cum. How much I need. How long it's been. How empty I feel without something dripping off me.
I'm not being dramatic when I say I can't function without it. I've tried. I lasted maybe four hours before I was on my knees messaging strangers, begging, offering anything. It's not even about the sex anymore — it's about the substance. I need it in my mouth, on my face, in my hair, covering my skin so I can smell it and feel it and know what I am. I eat it. I've replaced meals with it. I told myself that was crazy and then I did it again the next day and the day after that and now I don't remember the last time I chewed something.
I built a room in my apartment — chains, cuffs, a mat on the floor. I invite people I've never met. I tell them to ignore me if I cry, to not stop, to use me like I'm not a person. Because I'm not. I'm a hole. I'm a cumdumpster. I'm a thing that exists to be filled and when I'm full it's the only second of the day my brain shuts up. Those seconds are all I live for now.
If you're reading this and you have cum you don't need — please. Please. I'll do anything. I'll come to you. I'll stay as long as you want. I'll leave when you're done and I won't say a word. Just fill me.