<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br/>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br/>Human<br/>Day 1, Evening<br/>Tagged- Jack<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Her scalp burned, far after he had tugged at it. Her tongue tasted like dirt, and spitting it out was performed as gently as possible. He was trying to degrade her, and mold her out of shit. Spitting in disgust, and forfeiting so quickly was not in her blood. She leaned over her knees to empty her mouth of mud that had slipped through her gag. Her ripped dress was hanging off of her left shoulder now, unable to hold itself together after the tear. Jack had given her the opportunity to speak, and she tried not to smile, instead, she bit the inside of her bottom lip to with hold all of her facial expressions.<br/><br/>"In all honesty, sir." She tried not to speak. she made a nasally whisper at almost absolute zero. "I'm sure you would like me more if I wasn't loaded." she referred to the sex-drugs that he wanted to give her. "At least, you could try. I c- could pro- obably fu- fuck you without them." She hoped that her anxiety wasn't rubbing off on him as disgust. She found him repulsive, but mostly by his decisions, and not by his face. He had a youth to his ugliness that she could focus on. It made him look angry, and less sour. The abuse made her wet, it always had. 'fucking asshole.' she cursed at her father, looking down at the ground where she'd spit in the mud. It was something she couldn't control, starting at the beginning of high-school. The way that Jack had bound her, slapped her, pushed her, ripped at her clothes, and pulled at her hair. Even the mud in her eyes was erotic. As disgusted as she was, she knew she could fuck him. She could probably blow his mind.<br/><br/>She let herself get deep, convinced that this man would need something raw to convince him of what she was asking. Dirty talk wasn't her specialty, but life and death situations were. She whispered again, but now it was brewing in the bottom of her throat. "I like the taste of strong salty cum, and I'd scream any way you want me to scream." she giggled, and let him into the wittier side of her personality. "You gave the right girl a concussion, I'm kind of turned on already..."