Darling, tonight your body exists only as a space to showcase an endless gallery of bruises, semen, spit, blood, lacerations, and tears. Everyone here will enjoy you. Perhaps you will enjoy nothing. I don’t care.
I don’t care what happens to you tonight, so long as you remember two things:
Don’t be permanently damaged. You don’t have permission to make lasting alterations to that which is not yours, namely, you.
The very last scream, the one before your voice is gone altogether, that ragged and torn-up bit of half-choked breath?
Know this: that last scream is mine. When it comes out of you, send it straight to me.
And I promise:
Wherever I am, I will hear it. Not with my ears, but with my heart.