I never told anyone about waking in the night to him standing over me with a knife. It was small, one of my switchblades, chosen for carving.

His seeping dick twitched as he bent toward me, his slick left hand went down on my sternum, the other holding the knife like a scapel.

"What're you gonna do?" I asked, reaching for him, my fingers closing around his hard, wet length.

"Carve my name on your skin so everyone knows you're mine.

Author: Mary Calmes