Steamy Encounters
“It's so soft and thick. I'm going to ruin it. I'll pull until you're bald, little one, and then I'm going to make you wear a wig so I can pull that off too.”
His hips slammed forward as his hand twisted. Another clump of hair tore free, and I felt the sting of it, felt the warm trickle of something—blood, maybe, or just the raw sting of abused skin—running down my scalp. I was sobbing now, full-throated, ugly sobs that shook my whole body and made it difficult to breathe, but he didn't stop, didn't slow, didn't do anything but fuck me harder and pull my hair and whisper filth in my ear.
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