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I’ve chosen well. “Please”, you say, as I laugh humorlessly, wrap my fingers in your hair and force my cock down your throat as far as it will go. You can’t breathe; my cock is cutting off your air, and your eyes grow wide as you struggle for breath. As your orgasm begins to fade, you start to go limp, your eyes losing touch. As I take the knife from the nightstand, you try to move away, but I grab you by the throat and force you down again. You’re already dripping wet despite yourself, and I immediately sink to the hilt, pressing painfully inside you. I lock eyes with you, though…you’re too afraid of me, of the knife, to move.
