(Content warning: This is a fictional story, it's brutal, and its female protagonist dies in the end (spoiler alert!). Always practice your kinks in a safe and consensual way).

I'm in your dark basement, chained to a wall. It's been three weeks. Or months. Or years. Time does not exist for me anymore. You come down here to fuck me when you're horny, but I haven't seen sunlight or felt fresh air since you took me.

I'm only allowed a bit water every day. My only source of nutrition and calories is your cum. The pain in my head is almost unbearable. I want to throw up, but there's nothing in me to vomit. I just want to curl up and go to sleep forever.

My skin is stretched tight over my bones like a second layer. My ribs poke out like a cage, and my stomach is concave. I can barely see my pelvic bones jutting out of my hips, and my thighs are as thin as your wrist. You've chained my ankles together so I can't move around, but you always unlock them when you want me to give you a blow job. Your cum has dried on my face and chest, and my hair is matted with sweat and dirt.

This is how you're making me pretty for you.

I'm also constantly hungry. It's like a pit in my stomach that never goes away. It's gnawing, painful, and all-consuming. But I understand that hunger makes me a better cock sucker for you. I'm sucking you with more enthusiasm and passion now that my body needs your cum to survive. It's the only thing that nourishes me now, and I crave it like a starving animal.

I see that it makes you happy, and this brings me joy.

I love you.

My heart starts beating faster when I hear your footsteps. But today I you're not alone. When the door opens, and you turn on the light, after my eyes adjust, I see a woman with you. She is naked except for her high heels.

The woman has long, shiny black hair that cascades down her back. Her skin is pale and smooth, and her breasts are perky and round. Her legs are long and slender, and she's wearing red lipstick.

"Say hello to doctor Lydia, bitch," you order me.

"Hello, doctor Lydia," I say obediently.

My throat is so dry that it feels like I'm swallowing sandpaper when I speak. Doctor Lydia looks at me.

"So thin! Your diet made wonders! How long has she been here for?"

"24 days," you answer.

"Wow! And she's still alive. The bitch is so resilient. Won't last long though..."

What? I can't believe my ears! I won't last long? No, no! I will become pretty for you and you will take me up as your wife! And we will live happily ever after in your beautiful mansion! That's what it's all for! That's what I'm suffering for! Right?

"Of course," you say coldly, "But how much longer...?"

I feel my heart sink in my chest. I have been doing everything you asked of me, and now I'm being told that I would die soon. And you are perfectly happy with it. Was this the plan all along?

Doctor Lydia leans in and pulls back my hair, inspecting my face. Her mouth twitches in disgust.

"Her breath smells like urine, " she says.

"Yeah," you laugh, "I've been feeding her that as well!"

"No, it's not because of that," she grins again, "It's because her kidneys are failing. Look at swelling behind her eyes. And how she's constantly scratching herself. Her body's itching. All point to kidney failure."

I suddenly feel self-conscious. Indeed, I'm itching all the time. It feels so natural now that I have stopped paying attention.

"She won't last more than a week or two," she says.

What? A week or two? I thought I was being prepared for a lifetime with you! This so cruel. My eyes fill with tears as I sob uncontrollably.

"Please, don't kill me! I'll do anything!" I cry. "Take me to the hospital! Please..."

You and doctor Lydia exchange a knowing smile. She grabs a handful of my hair and pulls hard, forcing me to look up at her.

"I'm the only doctor you'll see, sweetie, " she says, "How sad."

She spits in my face, and I feel the saliva drip down my chin. Her words are so cruel. But her tone is so calm, and her voice is so soft.

"We will get you to a hospital," you say, "if you can please my wife like you pleased me"

Your wife? So doctor Lydia is your wife? I feel betrayed. I thought I would be your wife once I'm pretty for you... But I see that she's gorgeous, much better that I can ever be. Also... hospital! Yes, I need that.

Doctor Lydia takes a seat on the floor. She spreads her legs wide, revealing her shaved pussy. She's already wet, and her clit is erect and pulsing. I watch her as she rubs her clit with one hand and massages her breast with the other. She moans softly.

She looks up at me, "Come here, sweetie," she says.

I crawl over to her on my knees. Lydia grabs a handful of my hair and pushes my face into her wet pussy. Her skin is soft and warm, and her clit is hard and wet. She presses my nose against her clit, forcing me to breathe in her musky scent.

"Oh, you're such a good little whore," she purrs. "You must make him so happy."

I lick her clit and suck on it.

"I will help you, " you say.

I cry out in pain as you slam your cock into my pussy from behind. My body is dry and tight, and your cock feels like a steel rod inside me. You thrust in and out of me, making me gag on Lydia's pussy.

"That's right, sweetie," she says. "You're so good at this!"

You fuck me like a wild animal, grunting with every thrust. My pussy burns and stings like a raw wound that's being rubbed with salt. I cry and scream, but you don't stop. Your wife laughs and continues pressing my face into her vagina. With a roar, you cum deep inside me. I feel your hot cum fill me up, and it's like a balm on my raw pussy.

I run my tongue over Lydia's clit, sucking on it and twirling it around my mouth. Her juices drip down my chin and onto my chest. I moan and whimper as I suck her clit, desperate for her to cum in my mouth. Her moans grow louder and louder, and I feel her clit harden and throb against my lips.

"Yes, yes! That's it!" she cries. "Make me cum, sweetie!"

I lick her clit faster and harder, and she grabs a handful of my hair and pushes my face further into her pussy.

Suddenly, she cums hard, squirting her juices all over my face. Her body shudders and shakes, and she lets out a long, low moan. She pulls my head back and looks at me with a smirk.

"Well done," she says.

My face is covered in her juices, and my hair is a tangled mess. My body aches and burns, and I can barely move. The action has drained me of the remains of my strength. My body feels like a dead weight, and I can barely lift my head.

"Hospital..." I say quietly.

You both laugh.

"The bitch believed you!", doctor Lydia says amused, "You fucked her little brain really well!"

She touches my cheeks with her fingers. Her skin feels like silk.

"Please..." I beg, "Do not kill me..."

"Sorry, sweetie," she says, "we have already decided."

With these words she kicks me in the chest with her heel.

The kick knocks the wind out of me. I gasp for breath and fall on my back. She starts stomping on my chest with her sharp and pointy heels. The sound of my ribs cracking fills the basement.

My chest is on fire. Every breath feels like a knife stabbing my lungs. I can barely breathe, and every movement sends shockwaves of pain through my body. I know that I'm bleeding internally.

I look up at you and your wife, and I see that you're smiling. You enjoy watching me suffer, and you have no intention of saving me. Your wife rejoices when she sees blood coming out from my mouth.

"Her lung is pierced!" she announces. "The bitch is expiring fast! Are you ready for one last go?"

"Oh yeah," you say.

I can barely breathe as you fuck me. The pain in my chest is unbearable, and I'm choking on my own blood. You thrust into me hard, and I feel like my insides are being ripped apart. My vision begins to blur, and my hands and feet grow numb. I can feel my heart slowing down, and my breathing becomes shallower and shallower.

You smile at me as you fuck me. Your wife watches, licking her lips and rubbing her clit.

"She's almost gone," you say.

"Yes, yes!" Lydia cries. "This bitch is fucking dead!"

"I'm so done with this bitch," you say as you cum inside me.

And it's the last thing I hear.