He looks at my mutilated pussy. "Fucking bitch. Look what you made me do! Now I can't fuck your cunt. Sit up. Put your hands on the bed behind you to ...tay up."I hold myself up with my weakening hands, the fresh wound from my pinky leaking more blood onto the soaked sheets. "Please... Just kill me." Look at all that blood! I already did kill you, you fucking whore! Your brain just don't know it yet." He brings the knife to my right tit and stabs straight towards me through the nipple. I let out. I had my long black hair pulled back, applied some pink lipstick; but no other makeup. No jewelry but the rings in my nipples perched on my petite breasts -- which were hidden as two vague lumps beneath my clothes. I liked walking around at night. I welcomed the thrill of being on the edge of something just out of sight; the great titillating unmentionable fearful queasiness one feels when going in search of sex.Right off I wasn't sure that I would venture in there again, or if I would do what. More

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