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“We don’t need your charity. We can more than pay for our own war.”

The next night is much the same, as is the night after. It’s become as much of her nightly habits as anything else, her body always waking her with a fire in her crotch that can only be satiated with a visit to her father’s bed. As usual, despite the visit of the nighttime succubus each night, her father is happier and livelier than usual. The stress of his job and chores drained along with his balls. Sarah knew she should still be feeling bad about this, but there didn’t seem to be a reason for it. Her dad was feeling great, better than ever, and she was feeling the same. Her newfound lust wasn’t hurting her schoolwork or volleyball practice anymore and she was feeling more confident when her friends brought up sex. She had thought on one time to show her friends one of her videos of swallowing a huge load of cum, just to brag, but decided against it. It wouldn’t be good for anyone to ask any questions on who she was getting it from.

“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”