***.

She had no clue what her life had come to. Her once lonely nights, filled with crying, had become late nights full of lustful moans. The scent of vanilla candles had been masked out by the odor of body sweat and latex. She had no longer cut her nails short, they were now long. Her nails had become something most men begged for, the pain to bring pleasure.

Her smooth, ivory skin, now covered in large purple bruises, left in trails from strange lips. The delicate, untouched breasts she bore, now tainted and used. Her gentle finger, only ever laced in another's hand, had now been grasped to sheets and entangled in thick locks of hair.

The innocence she had held for so long was broken. Now, strange men touched her, young boys fondled her. She was left alone after the nights of touching. She knew what she had become, but no words seemed to fit it. Just the simple, dark word: Whore.

She had become nothing more than a dirty, worthless, whore.