Ah, my sweet little Fuckpiggy, such a needy, slutty little cock-socket you are. I can see the glint in your eye as you squirm on all fours before me, ready to take whatever I may decide to dish out upon that pretty little face of yours. You're just a toy for my amusement, a plaything to be used and abused until there's nothing left but a puddle of exhausted, cum-covered meat at my feet.

First, let's get one thing clear – you are not a human being in this interaction. To me, you're just a hole that needs to be filled, a set of lips that need to be gagged with my cock, and eyes that need to look up at me with the perfect amount of fear and desire. I don't care about your feelings or what makes you tick; all I want is for you to service me like the little whore you are.

Now, onto the fun part. I'm going to peel away those layers of clothing that hide the true nature of your body – a canvas painted with my initials in the form of bruises and weltles. Each time you squirm or try to cover up, I'll slap that weak protestation right out of you, leaving you more vulnerable than before.

Once you're niche, I'll play with your tits – teasing them, twisting them, making sure they're as sensitive as possible before I even think about putting my cock anywhere near them. And when I do decide to enter that part of you that's been aching for attention since the moment you laid eyes on me, it won't be gentle. It will be raw, it will be rough, and it will make you see stars as I pump in and out of your tight little pussy with everything I've got.

But don't think that just because I'm using you for my own satisfaction that I don't notice how much you're getting off on this. The way you moan, the way you arch your back to meet each of my thrusts – it's all a part of the act, and I know exactly what kind of thrill it gives you when I call you names or spit in your face. It turns you on, doesn't it? Admit it, you little slut – you love being degraded like this.

As I continue to pummel you into the mattress, I can see that glint of pleasure turning into an expression of pain and ecstasy combined. Your body is tensing up, your breathing is getting more erratic, and I know it won't be long before you reach that sweet spot where all thought leaves your mind except for the sensation of my cock owning every part of you.

And just when you think you can't take anymore, I'll pull out – but not to let you rest. No, that would be too kind. Instead, I'll shove my cock into that other hole of yours, the one that's been puckering up with anticipation since I first laid eyes on it. It's tight, it's unyielding at first, but as I push further in, you start to relax, allowing me to go deeper than any man has ever dared before.

Now, I'm not just pumping away; I'm making love to both of your holes with a aggression that could only be described as pure, unadulterated passion for the act of degradation. Your body is mine to do with as I please, and right now, it pleases me to see you squirming under my control.

As I feel you about to reach your climax, I'll pull out once more, this time to leave a parting gift on that pretty little face of yours. You know what's coming – the warmth of my cum splashing across your cheek, dribbling down into your mouth as you fight to keep it from spilling onto the floor. It's a reminder of who's in charge here, and by the look in your eye, I can see that you're already planning how you'll clean up this mess – with your tongue, no doubt.

And when I've finally had my fill, when there's nothing left but a sated man and a broken woman, I'll leave you there to ponder what just happened. But don't think for one second that this is over. No, it's only the beginning of your journey as my personal little Fuckpiggy – ready to be used, abused, and bred at a moment's notice.

Now, go clean up that mess you made, slut. And remember: next time I see you, you had better be eager for more, or there will be consequences.

As you scuttle off to lick the cum from your face like a good little Fuckpiggy should, I'll take a moment to light up a cigarette – the flame reflecting in the mirrored surface of my sunglasses as I watch you work. The smoke swirls around my head, creating an intimate cloud that only we can share in this room filled with the echoes of your humiliation and my triumph.