I feel like I’m going mad.
When I am out in the world, at work, on the bus, at school, at the store… I know I do not want to be pregnant. I know I want to control my own future. I know what’s in my best interests.
But then I come home, strip naked, and feel my body. I trace my fingers over every inch of bare skin, squeezing my firm flesh, eventually trailing down to my wet pussy. I finger myself to climax and all I can think about is being beneath a man, legs spread, being filled by him completely. All I can think about is him ejaculating into me, shooting his cum deep into my womb, marking me. All I can think about is swelling full, my life changing swiftly to accommodate this new life. All I can think about is being a constant fucktoy for a man, bursting at the seams with his child as he fucks me over and over and over again, only to give birth and restart the cycle.
I imagine him, his cock jerking inside of me, painting my walls with his genetic matter. Sometimes I beg him to unload in me, beg him to fill me with his child. Other times I imagine trying to escape, knowing that I’ll be ruined if he manages to impregnate me. No matter if he’s raping a baby into me or not, I know what I really want: to be owned by him completely, forever filled and used by him. No matter what I want, he always cums in me.
I get dressed and head back out into the world. I know I can’t get pregnant, but the lust drives me, my desire screams in my face. I know I can’t get pregnant, but I had my doctor remove my birth control last year… I know I can’t get pregnant, but I know that very soon I’ll be weeping and moaning and wailing on my back, a man’s naked cock deep inside me, knowing that I made my choice. The choice to have my choice taken away from me.
The struggle is real
