Did she fall? She was sometimes clumsy.

Stretching on her well-worn white sheets, she pulled the blankets back over her naked body. She rubbed her legs together. She combed her fingers through her hair. She moved her hand down the side of her body, over her hip, and around to her ass.

She winced when her fingers pressed against the bruise on her bottom. Pain and then that familiar warm tingle, in her head and between her legs.

It was Sunday morning. On Saturdays, she wasn’t herself. That wasn’t hyperbole. She literally wasn’t herself. She didn’t know who she was, but she wasn’t herself. She was someone else. She was whoever the person she was with wanted her to be. The people she was with. She didn’t have that detail.

She didn’t remember Saturdays. That’s how it worked. That’s what she agreed to. That’s how it had been for six months. Twenty-three Saturdays. Twenty-three Sunday mornings, waking up and finding bruises, finding little marks, wondering what happened.

She sighed deeply as the other little pains became apparent. She pulled back the blanket to find four little circle bruises on her thigh. Fingers that had grabbed her. She touched them and felt how different they were than the bruise on her ass, which was deeper, more tender.

When she rolled over she felt the soreness between her legs. She let out a little moan. Soreness that meant she was used, fucked, stretched. She wondered how many times. She wondered how many people. Fingers or cocks or dildos?

She flinched at the sharper pain inside of her cunt. She tried to be very still, to let her fingers move to her clit very lightly. The pain subsided when she was still. Her clit was sore too, but not as much and in some vaguely different way. It soothed her to rub it in soft little circles, picturing faceless people using her body.

It wasn’t a fantasy as much as a memory of something unremembered. People did use her body the night before. People fucked her and probably came inside of her. People spanked her and pushed her around and had their way with her. They did whatever they wanted. She was just a blank doll for them. A wet hole and a pair of tits and a mouth.

It hurt when she came. Her muscles were sore too and when her whole body tenses for the orgasm she grimaced as she moaned. Then she went slack and still again. She sighed deeply and let herself fall back asleep for a bit, to dream of all the things she didn’t know.