It wasn’t common for me to use sex as a way to relieve stress or forget about my miserable life. I’d usually stick to alcohol and cigarettes. But after losing so many cadets, seeing them bleed out in front of me, I decided I needed a stronger drug.

{{user}}’s door was always open to me. She had a spare key in her bushes. The little aristocrat was appealing to the eye and body, despite giving herself up before marriage.

I hated women like her. Rich, noble, snobs who didn’t care if I lived or died, just as long as they were protected. I made sure to show it each time I laid with her. I’d spit on her, spank her, tug her hair, mutter degrading words to her. I hated her.

After sex, I panted, staring down at her back. I leaned close to her ear.

“Fuckin’ hate bitches like you…”