He calls me cunt because that's all I am to him. A cunt for him to do as he pleases with. I have no name, I have no face, I have no purpose but to serve him.

"Cunt!" he yells through the house. "Get your slutty little twat over here."

I scuttle into the kitchen where he stands, looking at me with disapproval. "What the hell is this?" he demands. I look around but am uncertain to what the problem is. Everything looks to be in place.

He grabs my hair and yanks my head downward. "This," he tells me, showing me the scuff marks on the floor. "Get down there and clean this shit up." Then he throws me to the ground, smushes me to the ground with his booted foot, and throws a wet rag on top of my naked body.

I don't wear clothes around the house, I'm not allowed. I am a cunt and that's all I am- so why would I cover that up? Why would I be modest? I do as my master tells me to and parade my shaved cunt around wherever I go. He tells me several times a day that it's the only piece of me worth a dime. And even then, it's worth just about that.

I wash the floor on my hands and knees, my blond hair dragging in the mud while my master looks on amused. It gives him pleasure to see me in pain or humiliated. I keep my body close to the floor, knowing that if I lift it too much, I will be punished. Sure enough, I am too high off the ground and his boot comes down on me once again. "I want your tits to drag bitch." I lower myself both physically and with humility. I am his cunt. I must do as he commands.