Flint likes to treat me like an animal.

He’s had me drink water out of bowls during scenes. He’s made me sit on a towel in his car so I “won’t make a mess.” And while rubbing my pussy as he drove, he’s had me look out the window and try to make eye contact with other drivers so they’ll know what kind of animal I am.

We were at my place and he was sitting in my armchair, making me straddle his leg and essentially hump it. I kept failing at finding the right angle, so I ended up grinding on his ankle and shoe more than anything else.

“Isn’t it funny?” He said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “For a girl who hates the word ‘bitch,’ you really spend a lot of time acting like a little bitch in heat.”