Trash Wh0re Lara

The London alleys were pitch black, wet, and smelled like garbage, exactly how Lara wanted it. Tonight, the wealthy Lady Croft was gone. She felt filthy inside and wanted her body to match that feeling. She wanted to be used, degraded, and completely ruined.

She strutted down the pavement in tight, thigh-high latex boots that squeezed her legs, paired with a micro-skirt so short it barely covered her hips. She hadn't even bothered to put on a top. Her bare tits were completely out, hanging heavy in the cold night air, the ultimate invitation for any passing stranger. Around her neck, she snapped a collar with bright, glittering letters that spelled out SLUT. To top it off, she pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail, she knew damn well that the men around here would grab it like a handle while they shoved themselves down her throat.

Lara didn't need a single cent of course, her bank accounts were overflowing. She was doing this purely for the sick, twisted high of being treated like a cheap whore.

She picked her spot and stopped right next to an overflowing, disgusting dumpster. The ground around her boots was covered in used condoms and slimy toilet paper. Looking at that trash bin, she smiled. It was the perfect mirror for her tonight: a dump meant for filth, a place where men threw away their garbage after they were done with it. That’s exactly what she wanted to be. Just a cheap, nameless piece of trash waiting in the dark for anyone to come and take her.