Page 122 of I Will Break You

Now, I know this is just a fantasy. Amethyst has never been able to send me a full nude, as she says the scars on her stomach are ugly.

“Your fingers would fumble over your shirt, but I would be impatient.”

“What would you say?”

“Hurry the fuck up,” I snarl. “Get naked or I’ll slice through those fucking clothes with my knife.”

She whimpers, the desperate sound going straight to my shaft.

“Your eyes would dart to my knife?—”

“What does it look like?” she asks.

“Eighteen inches long with a curved blade. With a handle long and thick enough to stick in your sweet pussy.”

“With a serrated spine?” she squeaks.

“Of course. I’ll get impatient, grab the front of your shirt and slice through your collar.”

She squeals.

“Are you stroking your clit?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Dirty girl. Who gave you permission to touch yourself?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

My throat spasms, and I groan. Why does the sound of her submission make me so lightheaded? Because she’s special. My broken little doll.

“The knife will slice through your shirt and cut open your bra. I’ll run the flat of the blade over those sweet tits. You won’t know if I’m watching your nipples harden or trying to slice them off.”

“Don’t cut my nipples!” she shrieks.

“Then I’ll twist them so hard, your knees would buckle.”

“But then I’d cry.”

“Those tears would make me even harder. I’d keep pulling and twisting those nipples until you mess up your mascara. Then I’ll order you to show me your pussy.”

“Oh, no.”

“You touching yourself again?”

“I can’t help it.”

“Spank that pussy.”

Closing my eyes, I savor the sound of slapping, followed by a sweet gasp.

“And your breasts,” I growl. “Both of them.”

She obeys.

I lean against the wall, dizzy at the mental image of her lying flat on her bed. She’d be naked, with those blonde and black curls spilling across the pillow. Those perfect tits would bounce with each slap, with the nipples turning red.

“Grab the dildo,” I snarl.