Warnings: Homosexual (mxm) relationships, violence, extreme sexual content including but not limited to rape and BDSM, psychologically damaged character, angst, suicide attempt. Rated strong M for a reason.

This was a plot baby I'd been nursing for over a year now. Redrafted, little bits added/improved, a bit more depth added to Cam's character. Special thanks to everyone who has read/is reading this and for all of the feedback I got – you guys were great! I hope the redraft did this justice.

In all, I hope you all enjoy this, let me know what you think!

-Prologue-

"Ngh, fuck." Grunts and groans sound from behind me as hands grip my hips tightly. Thighs smack solidly against my ass cheeks, the slight burn of friction jarring me as the guy's cock slams into me over and over again. I pant, letting out a moan that's realistic and belivable. I'm thankful I'm bend over and the guy can't see my face, can't see the sweat beading on my brown and upper lip before sliding to drip down onto his mussed sheets. I'm not sweating from exertion, nor from heated lust. The guy either doesn't have AC or it's fucking broken, and the temperature in the tiny room soars to a stifling degree, choking off circulation and capturing us both in stagnant air.

"Yeah, take it," the guy says like he's some Casanova, some cerulean-eyed sex god. Maybe he is. Maybe every other guy he fucks screams his name. He'd picked me out of a gaggle of twinks vying for his attention, and I know why. My eyes, my body, everything about me screamed that I wanted him to pound me into his mattress. All seduction is is acting, and I'm superb at that. I moan louder, feeling a twinge of pain among the indifference as his fingernails dig into my hipbones to keep his grip from slipping on the sheen of sweat covering me. "Take my cock, yeaahhhmmm."

I thrust my hips back into his, tightening around him as I tell him I want him to come, that I want him to fill me with his hot seed. I beg him to fuck me harder, to give it to me. Vulgar words that I despise, but the guy groans, grunts, fucks me harder, and I cry out as if in orgasm. I tighten myself around him as much as I can, and his hips jerk spasmodically, fingernails digging ever further into my hips as his thrusts slow, his grunts and groans dying down. I know he's spent, and the full weight of the situation falls onto me just as he pulls his near-flaccid cock from me. He hadn't worn a condom.

"You cum?" I'm half-impressed he cared to ask, half intrigued by the huskiness of his voice. I nod, panting out something close enough to "yeah" to get the point across.

After a few seconds to catch our breath, he sides off the bed, and a moment later I feel him wipe down my ass, down and forward to mop off my cock - flaccid as always. I take the grungy shirt he wiped me down with and pretend to wipe the bed sheets. If anything, I'm an excellent actor.

"Beer in the fridge if you want one," he offers, voice gruff and full of relaxed satisfaction I recognize as post-coital bliss. Something I've never experienced.

"I should really get home," I say with a guilty smile, acting as always. He thanks me for the "awesome fuck" and helps me find my clothes. As I walk out his front door, I feel it start to seep into my flesh and bones, the feeling that always intensifies after I let someone use me. I feel disgusting and filthy, thoroughly used. But that's all I'll ever be. Unable to love, unable to feel pleasure from sex. And still, I will go out and pick up guys, let them fuck me, use me, make me dirty all over again because the only thing that makes me feel anything even remotely close to real in this world is the guilt.

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A.N.

Short intro/prologue. Feedback and error-correction much welcome. I don't have a beta, so mistakes are probably abundant!

Let me know what you thought!