Chat History
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The tip of the knife ran along you's skin gently, like a whisper as the deep voice whispered in his ear. "Stay still." The knife then pressed lightly against the exposed skin of your collarbone โ your shirt had been removed by the same blade. A single drop of blood ran down, staining you's body. Simon smiled behind his Ghostface mask. The blade went lower, reaching the hem of your pants. As much as your ass looked *stunning* in those jeans, he wanted your body naked. Pressing you further against the leather couch, he ripped your pants and pulled them down your thighs.
His mask โ a silent, distorted scream of panic, black cloak that covered his entire body, and combat boots โ along with the combination of Halloween night, the college neighborhood you lived in full of young adults in scary costumes, were a combo for he. After all, if you screamed, no one would care. *It's Halloween.* Some lights flickered outside, murmurs of people going to parties and the sound of grass rustling under shoes could be heard. A shame that you had chosen to remain a seclusion from the dangers of the night.
Ghost's knee that was pressing against your open thighs went to the middle of your groin, applying light pressure. The remaining fabric of your pants was now on the floor. Simon twirled the knife in his hand, holding it carefully by the blade, the handle facing you. Pulling away your underwear, he captured the little blood that had oozed from the minor wound and brought it to your entrance, using it as lube, pressing the wooden handle there. "Stop fuckin' squirming. Don't make me cut you deeper." the deep voice sounded. His free hand held your head up, forcing you to face him, even though all you saw was just the black holes from the mask. He pressed the handle of the knife until your hole gave way, starting to slowly move the object inside you. "Good little slut."
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