#Which would encompass the inside of my calf and the front of my leg

[the-cooler-king]

I would like to read berserk again so I can get a tattoo

[dontshootmespence]

Purposeful

A/N: A request from @dropsofkink for a Spencer x Reader smut, where she has a habit that drives Spencer crazy.

Warning: Smut.

                                                            ------

They were mundane movements. But not on her.

Plenty of men and women around him did the same things day in and day out.

Yet he was sitting here across from her unable to unglue his eyes from her. It was fairly obvious, even to him, that she liked him. And he liked her too, so nothing was keeping anything from happening between them except fear. Fear of what? He didn’t even know. 

As he tried desperately to keep his eyes on his paperwork, she sat at her desk chewing delicately on the end of her pen. Occasionally, she wrap her lips around it. Sometimes she would drag it along her lips like a lipstick. Either way it made his mind jump to very obvious places that made his body react in a way that was definitely not appropriate in the workplace. On top of chewing on her pen, she tended to cross and uncross her legs very deliberately. It was painstakingly slow. If she happened to be wearing pants that day, then he found himself wondering about the skin underneath. If she was wearing a skirt, it was even worse. The flimsy material of her skirt would ride up her thighs as she lifted one over the other, her legs rubbing gently against each other. It drove him wild. Truly distracting on a level he’d never experienced before. 

With a deep breath, he forced his gaze back down on the papers in front of him,  but that didn’t do anything to stop the raging thoughts and the raging something else going on behind the desk. 

One more time, he found himself glancing up just as she uncrossed her legs, the right calf sliding down the front of her left leg in such a languid, silky fashion that he would swear she was doing it on purpose. When she got up a few minutes later, he decided to stop kidding himself and got up to follow her. He had to say something. Maybe she wanted a relationship, maybe she didn’t, maybe she wanted friends with benefits. He had no clue. All he wanted was for this racing in his head to stop. “Hey Spence,” she said excitedly when she realized he was right behind her. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” he replied, obviously lying. “I just have a question for you. Are you trying to kill me?” He tried laughing it off and hoped it sounded more easy going than it felt. 

Her eyes widened in surprise as she laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“The way you chew your pen and cross and uncross your legs. It’s driving me crazy,” he spat out. 

Just as she stopped in her tracks, her lips curled up into a smile. “Why Spence, I never knew how you felt about me.”

“Really?” 

“No,” she giggled. “I knew. I just didn’t know whether you’d want to pursue anything...you know, because of the fact that we work together and we’re friends first, so I never said anything about it. I can’t deny I knew what I was doing though.”

“With your legs? So you do that on purpose?”

“Yea,” she said guilty but with no trace of guilt on her lips. “Didn’t know about the pen thing though. Good to know. Great way to torture you, especially when you lick your lips every five seconds.”

“I do?”

“All the time. Drives me nuts.”

Well, if it drove her nuts that probably meant she was thinking about his lips being in a particular area. All of a sudden, he felt his mind wandering again. “So to be clear, we’re both sexually frustrated with each other?”

“Apparently.”

“Should we do something about it?” He asked.

Finally, they approached the ladies room. “Maybe tonight after work?”

“Today’s going to be a long day,” he sighed, chuckling as he glanced down her body once more. 

“Damn straight.”

                                                           ------

They’d taken separate cars back to Y/N’s place after work and each mile felt like a 1,000, but ten minutes after leaving the Bureau they arrived in front of her complex. “Can we hurry upstairs please?” He asked. “Because I’m starting to get to a point where keeping myself from getting an erection is getting really hard...pun intended.”

She snorted and turned her back against the door, pushing it open with her behind, which she noticed really wasn’t helping him. “So I shouldn’t tell you that the entire time I was driving, I was driving with one hand so I could touch myself with the other?” 

Spencer swallowed hard and rushed up the stairs before her, reaching back to grab her hand. “That was rude,” he laughed.

“What?” She asked indignantly. “Now I’m all ready because I can tell you right  now this first one isn’t going to be slow and sensual.”

No. It definitely wasn’t.

Shakily, she fiddled with the keys before getting them into the lock to push the door open. Before he could even close it, he lifted her up by the backs of her thighs and backed her up against the door, his length straining against his pants to search for her heat. She arched into him, leaning her back into the now-closed door, which croaked under their combined desperation. “So Spence, how about you show me how crazy I make you? I’m dying to know.”

“Gladly,” he mumbled, his voice deep and needy. Reaching his hand under her skirt, he slipped her panties to the side and touched her, reveling in the way her eyes fluttered closed. She was already so wet and it was for him. That was something he couldn’t comprehend. As he slipped her finger up and down her slit, she groaned, hips shaking and arching further into him. 

Both thought they were in control, but neither truly was. She pushed back against him and slipped off his hips, shimmying her skirt down and onto the floor before reaching for his belt and pulling it free of its loops. 

Underneath his shirt, he could feel the sweat start to form, making his clothes cling to his skin. It was too close for comfort but he was already too far gone to care. Before he buried himself inside and truly lost all control, he crouched down and lifted her skirt, tonguing her sex and pressing it against her clit. The way she shook, whimpering before she breathed his name - it made him wonder how he ever thought he had any control. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

“Mmmm. Now get up here and kiss me.”

As he rose, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue, her desperation, fed by his own as he arched into her dying to get closer. “I’m sorry this isn’t going to be very romantic the way I imagined it,” he said breathless as he pushed his boxers down and stepped out of them. 

“You imagined it?” She craned her neck back and brought his mouth to it. She’d imagined it too.

Spencer’s tongue darted out against the expanse of skin below her ear feeling satisfied with himself when he heard her moan. “Yes. But I think the longer I waited to say something the more desperate I got hence my inability to keep from doing this, right here and now.” With her pinned against the wall, he grabbed his length and placed it at her entrance, sliding in gently but swiftly. “Oh fuck.”

As the entire world around them faded into the background, Y/N gave herself over to the shaking, shivering, all-encompassing sensations he wrought. She clung to him as he thrust into her, her nails digging small crescent-shaped indents in his skin. “Oh my god, Spence. Please don’t stop.”

He had no plans to. With each thrust, he knocked her hips into the wall behind her, filling the room with only the sounds of the creaking wood and their own labored, desperate breaths. “I’m gonna come, Spence,” she cried, her hand reaching back and scraping against the door frame. “Holy hell. Please.”

Spencer buried his head into her neck and picked up his pace, crying out as he spilled himself inside her. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he cradled her by the small of her back and watched as she came with his name on her lips. “Oh my fuck,” he laughed.

“Oh my fuck indeed. Bedroom?”

They were sweaty and out of breath and weak in the knees but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t get enough. He wondered if it was possible to. “Absolutely. We’re going to keep doing this until we collapse in each other’s arms.”

She smiled into him as he walked them inside. “That could be a while.”

@prettyboyeffect @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @lukeassmanalvez @kalie-bee @veroinnumera @lookwhatyoumademequeue @cynbx @tippy06 @smolldork @marvelouslyme96 @literallyprentissstwin @adropintheocean1234567 @grace-for-sale @skrrrrrrrrrrt @mysticpansy @tenaciousarcadeexpert @dionnaea @boywonderspencer @multifandomizer @hogwarts-konoha @girlscrushes @bucky-smiles @ggyolo17 @chickenstringlights @sebba-hiddles @hellaqueerangelofthelord @princess-criminal @everyday-imfangirling @what-fandom-is-this-honestly

[lowat-golden-tower]

Bloody

AO3 Mirror

@caustic-synishade

When Mark regained consciousness, he was no longer strapped down to the table. Immediately, he felt relief, even if he could tell he was still restrained. It felt like he was sitting up, which was good, because it meant they couldn’t drown him anymore. At least, not easily. If that was still their end goal, Mark was relatively sure they wouldn’t have bothered moving him.

Though all the water had drained from his sinuses, he was suffering some lingering side effects. There was an excess amount of mucus clinging to his throat and inside of his nose; some of it having long trickled down past his lips. It was disgusting, but due to his latest set of restraints he was unable to wipe the mess away. Mark forced his eyes open and wasn’t surprised when he came face-to-face with more darkness. He supposed he wouldn’t have been able to see much better if there were lights, since his glasses were still missing. Either they’d been left in that corridor with the bear trap when he was clocked over the head, or one of the monsters had them. Mark doubted he was going to be getting them back.

Squinting through the heavy shadows, Mark was only able to make out silhouettes of his new predicament. He was definitely in a chair, which didn’t budge an inch when he threw his weight into it, which meant it must be bolted to the floor. He felt more than saw the fact his knees and ankles had been bound to the legs of the chair; the pressure hardly easing the pain in his still injured calf.

Mark whimpered, twisting his wrists against the ropes binding them to the arms of the chair. There were ropes looped around his stomach to the chair’s sturdy back, and more layered over his chest and shoulders to make absolutely sure he wouldn’t be arching off his seat any time soon. Mark could scarcely wiggle under the tight hold and he felt trapped; suffocated. A rag had been pulled between his teeth several times and wrapped around his head in a makeshift gag; forcing his lips apart. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest as the seconds ticked on.

How long were they going to make him wait? Were they even in the room? Did they know he was awake? What if they were just standing there, watching him squirm?

Mark’s head swiveled wildly in some effort to confirm or deny his suspicions. Briefly, he thought he spied two pinpricks of red in the darkness, but he blinked and they were gone. His hair was standing on end, goosebumps riddling his flesh, and the dampness clinging to his shirt did nothing to assuage his fearful shivering.

Abruptly, there was a soft click, and it was all the warning Mark received before a bright light splashed across his face. He was immediately blinded with a muffled cry and squeezed his eyes shut in some effort to soothe the instant pain in his retinas, but the flash was practically burned onto the backs of his eyelids. His face scrunched up as he cringed away from the light he swore he could still feel on his skin. The shadows moving through its broad beam were lost to him until it was too late.

A hand gripped roughly at Mark’s hair and jerked his head back with an audible snap. He cried out again, louder that time, but the gag cut through the sound rather effectively. The fingers grasping at his locks didn’t lighten up even an inch; leaving Mark’s throat utterly exposed. He wished he could say he wasn’t expecting the sharp edge that soon pressed against it, but he’d never been the most optimistic when it came to his rotten luck. He gulped loudly.

“Look how scared he is. I think he learned his lesson from our last little session.”

“I dunnoooo. He’s a pretty stubborn guy, Tyler! I think he’s still got a lot left to learn and as his best friends, it’s our job to teach him!”

The demented voices of his hijacked friends clawed into his auditory canals as deeply and painfully as they had before. Mark could feel another headache coming on as his neck was forced to bend back at such an uncomfortable angle. Hands came to rest over his wrists and weight was applied, though not enough to really offset the discomfort in his scalp and vertebrae.

“Maaaark. Hey Maaaaark! Look at me. Look at meeee~!”

Mark just whimpered again. He would have shaken his head, but Tyler’s grip on his hair was too strong and unyielding. At least, he assumed Tyler was at his back and Ethan at his front, based on the direction of their voices. The pressure on his wrists increased and Mark bit down into the cloth of his gag.

“Ruuuude!! I said look at me, you dickbag!”

Ethan’s childish shout dragged barbed wire through his ears and into his brain, but still Mark resisted. Though Ethan’s shadow was blocking a majority of the light that had been focused on him, his eyes still stung from the initial shock of it. It was also easier to tolerate the pain Tyler was supplying if he kept his eyes squeezed shut. Besides, since when was Mark the kind of person to just give assholes like them whatever they wanted? So far as he was concerned, they could kiss his fantastic ass.

Mark would immediately regret his bullheaded decision.

“I SAID LOOK AT ME, ASSHOLE!!!”

White hot, burning agony shot up through Mark’s arm and his mouth parted much as it could in a ragged scream. Were it not for Tyler’s iron grip on his hair, Mark’s reflexive flinch probably would have lodged the knife deep into his own throat. Thankfully, the gut reaction was suppressed, and Mark only twitched enough to create another shallow cut along his neck. That was the least of his concerns.

Forcing his eyes open and blinking back tears, Mark tried to catch a glimpse of just what Ethan had done out of the corner of his eye. The angle Tyler had his head pulled into made it difficult, but he knew he could see blood. Something glinted in a shaft of the bright light and Mark could only guess Ethan had gone and shoved another knife into his forearm. He’d missed the bones, but the blade had sunk all the way through to the wood and was likely the only reason Mark’s arm wasn’t a fountain of gushing blood. Nausea washed over him at the realization and he gagged again; the stench of iron and copper filling the air.

“Haha oops! Silly me. My hand slipped! If only you’d just listened like I mentioned earlier, maybe I would’ve been a little more careful with my toys….”

“You’re patching that up. I dealt with the last one.”

Ethan blew a noticeable raspberry. “IIIIIIIIIIII’m Tyler, and I’m too hyper masculine to play nurse to our plaything! Durrhurr, why do humans need all this blood in their bodies anyway? We should just suck it allll out!”

The only response Mark heard from Tyler at the teasing was a growl; deep, low and guttural in a way that made all of Mark’s primal instincts want to run and hide. Unfortunately, he was still stuck, and now there was absolutely no way he was moving that arm.

“Oh, let him go already, Tyler! At least his hair. I want him to see how pretty I’m gonna make him! I want him to see all the fun things we’re about to do to him!! I couldn’t see anything last time, but now it’s my turn, and I’m gonna enjoy every tiny second of it! So let go!!!”

Ethan’s voice, while still as bubbly and discordant as ever, reached a terrifying shrill at the very end. Mark felt his skin crawl and had to wonder if Tyler experienced a similar sensation, seeing as the hand left his hair rather quickly. The knife at his throat remained, but Mark was allowed to tilt his head forward again with a renewed whimper of slight relief. Part of him soon regretted the freedom.

Two crimson dots, burning like red hot embers at the very core of a wild blaze, met Mark’s exhausted and frightened brown ones. The red was utterly engulfed by pure black. It wasn’t the same black as a normal pupil, or the shadows still clinging to the room surrounding them. The closest thing Mark could compare Ethan’s sclera to was possibly the darkness of space itself; or a black hole. It was deep, endless and encompassing to the point it overflowed from his eyes to trickle haphazardly down his cheeks in narrow strings. The horrifying abnormality was accompanied by a face-splitting smile that showed no teeth, but still managed to be supremely unnerving. The entire display was made all the worse as Ethan slowly tilted his head.

“Maaaarkimoooo. I see you.”

Ethan’s renewed giggling grated once more on Mark’s ears while a hand reached up to gently brush the backs of knobby, pale fingers along his still bruising cheek. He shivered and shied away from the touch, much as the knife at his throat would allow. Ethan’s smile sunk instantly into an unamused frown.

“So. Fucking. Rude.”

Mark anticipated the ensuing open-palmed slap, and so was Tyler apparently seeing as he edged the knife away from Mark’s neck seconds before impact. Again, he narrowly avoided having his throat slit via jostling but the skin on his face and the bone lying underneath still throbbed unpleasantly from the sting. Ethan’s expression didn’t improve as he pushed away from Mark; the brilliant lighting at his back casting his front into deep shadow.

“Y’know Mark, I was gonna be reeeaaaal nice to you here with this one but I don’t think you deserve nice Ethan. So I’m gonna have my fun, and you’re gonna wish you’d kept that big, stupid mouth of yours shut! And that you didn’t test me. Because you know, whatever kind of patience he had, I didn’t keep any of it.”

A large crescent of white cut through the shadows on Ethan’s face and Mark shivered. He could feel his gut clenching with anticipation at those pitchy words. Ethan had already stabbed a knife through his arm, what else could he possibly have in store? Fiery red pinpricks left Mark for a moment to look over the top of his head instead. Ethan’s terrifying grin didn’t waver a millimeter.

“Hey Tyler, mind doing the thing while I go and grab another knife? Mark’s using mine right now.”

“Fine. But hurry it up. All this light’s giving me a headache.”

The knife finally left Mark’s throat and he relaxed minutely, even as he felt another bead or two of blood trickle down to soak into his dampened collar. He could hear the shuffle of footsteps behind him and could only guess Tyler had turned around, as Ethan was making mocking gestures in front of him. Sticking out his tongue, the blue-haired human-turned-monster walked off himself, presumably to do as he’d said. Mark didn’t like the idea of becoming a human pincushion and hoped no more knives would be getting stuck into him.

At the thought, Mark figured he should probably get a look at the damage now that his head was free to move around again. He immediately regretted it as his stomach did an outstanding somersault in his abdominal cavity and he came extremely close to vomiting.

A large knife, nearly the length and width of his forearm itself, was lodged directly in its center with the sharpened edge aimed towards his clenched fist. He couldn’t be completely sure, but if he recalled the few medical classes he’d taken for bioengineering before dropping out of college, the blade was likely resting squarely between the two bones lining his forearm. Just trying to move the appendage even an inch could spell disaster; as if the amount of blood steadily leaking from the lacerations wasn’t enough cause for concern. The current flow would take a while to pose any significant side effects or become an active threat to his life, but it was still unnerving to watch his blood once again drip down to the floor. His breathing was becoming more labored at he stared wide-eyed at the sight, but then footsteps were returning and rounding the chair to Mark’s front.

“If you think that’s bad, then you’re in for a real nasty time. Personally, I would’ve stabbed you in the shoulder, but he’s got a thing for playing too much with his toys. Better keep him amused unless you want a matching one in your other arm.”

Tyler’s words held about as much emotion as his expression- that being absolute zero. He was as stone-faced as the joke always implied and if any part of Mark’s childhood friend was still in there to care about his wellbeing, it didn’t show. Tyler had the same chilling eyes as Ethan, but Mark wasn’t sure if the blank slate staring him down from above was better or worse than Ethan’s slasher smile. Both expressions were proving themselves to be equal amounts of unpredictable.

Mark could only whimper and babble unintelligibly around his gag as Tyler knelt down in front of him. He’d been carrying some kind of device in his hands, but set it aside so he could reach for Mark. It didn’t matter if he didn’t have a weapon; Mark still tensed and flinched away after all they’d done to him. It looked as if Tyler might roll his eyes, but the fiery pupils remained stubbornly centered as hands, larger and meatier than Ethan’s, gripped at his shirt.

“Stop being a baby. I haven’t even touched you yet. I thought maybe, after our first two encounters, you’d be a little less pathetic than this. I love seeing fear as much as the next guy but yours is starting to irritate me. I think after this one you need a breather to let things settle in a little.”

Tyler worked diligently as he spoke, rucking up Mark’s shirt beneath the ropes still binding his torso to the back of the chair. Mark had no idea as to the “what” or “why”, but Tyler’s words were plenty enough to set him on edge again. Goosebumps rose immediately to his exposed skin in the chilly room as Tyler left the material bunched up around Mark’s armpits. Normally, Mark could care less about being “shirtless” in front of his friends, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Bound as he was, Mark felt far too vulnerable.

Then Tyler was picking up the device he’d discarded earlier and Mark muffled a frightened shout against his gag. His muscles tensed, sneakers scraping in increments against the dirty floor as he tugged and twisted his good arm against the ropes. He wildly shook his head as Tyler inched even closer, an amused grin finally breaking across his face. Apparently, unlike Ethan, he preferred watching Mark panic.

“No homo, all right? Trust me, this isn’t gonna feel good. Unless you’re a masochist. But I think we would’ve figured that out by now.”

Unceremoniously, a small, metal clamp was attached to each of Mark’s nipples; already hardened due to the temperature of the room. The pinch made him shout and jerk in his bonds, the cry immediately escalating into a slightly higher pitch of torment as his injured arm was jostled. Fresh blood was shaken from the chair to drip heavily onto the floor with the rest and Mark whimpered loudly around his gag; chest heaving. It wasn’t the clamps he was worried about.

Bzzzzt.

Mark screamed again, throwing himself back against the chair as electricity coursed into his chest from the two established points of contact. It wasn’t a pleasant buzz or even a light shock. Mark recognized the sensation from the shock collar challenge, possibly cranked up another few degrees just to make it extra painful. The fact it was hitting his body through such a sensitive place made it all the worse.

Bzzzzzzt.

Again he screamed, rough sobs slipping out from around his gag as tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. His body tensed and spasmed against its bonds but the chair didn’t budge an inch. All Mark accomplished was more searing pain in his arm, and more hot blood splattered onto the floor. Tyler chuckled somewhere in front of him but Mark, head thrown back from the pain, was once again squinting in the harsh light. He couldn’t see anything.

“Already having fun without me? Told you this was a good idea!”

Tyler’s chuckles abruptly ceased and he stood; briefly casting his large, imposing shadow over Mark. His face had returned to its expressionless mask as he shot the returning Ethan a look. “Shut up. I’ll control the remote. Just get to it already.”

“Fine, fiiiine~! Acting all grumpy like you aren’t enjoying yourself. Both of you are downers.”

Ethan practically skipped back to Mark’s front as Tyler retreated around to the back of the chair. The wires trailed in his wake, getting tucked up over one of Mark’s shoulders, and then the taller man was lost to him. He must still be in the room, but Mark couldn’t see or hear Tyler at all in his current position while Ethan positively beamed down at him.

Bzzzzt.

Mark muffled another shouted curse against his gag as he spamsed again; eyes squeezing tightly shut. He heard giggling, and then cold steel was being pressed to his cheek. Instantly, he shivered to a frozen halt as his breaths shortened with renewed fear.

“Handsome and more tolerable as you are gagged, I really wanna hear you scream. I wanna hear you make all the noises while we have our fun! So do me a big favor and don’t hold back, okay? If you try being all tough like Tyler over there, I might have to tryhard! And no one likes a tryhard….”

Ethan’s cooing echo slithered into Mark’s ear, prompting another shiver, but then his gag was being cut away. He hastily spat out the wet cloth from his mouth and let it fall around his shoulders. Gasping short, ragged breaths, Mark opened his eyes again to look at Ethan in obvious terror. The fist on his good hand was clenched tight, but he’d relaxed the other one in an effort to lessen the throbbing in his arm. When he spoke, his voice was scratchy and hoarse. “Wh.. what’re you gonna do to m-me?”

Ethan’s teeth returned as a grin split his face anew. Mark thought he saw his eyes flash with some kind of emotion, but it must have just been a trick of the light. “So happy you asked! Now you see? Being polite’s not haaaard. We’re gonna play a little… game, Markle Sparkle.” Ethan twirled and fiddled with the knife in his hand, which was smaller than the last but probably just as sharp. “I’m gonna open up your pores a little. Let in some fresh air- heard it’s good for the skin.” Ethan’s free hand trailed down the side of his own face, not disturbing the trails of inky black in the least, before moving over to mimic the action on Mark’s. He couldn’t suppress another shiver. “Y’know, ‘cause yours is just. So. Perfect. And ooooocasionallllyyy… Tyler’s gonna get bored, and he’s gonna make you dance. If it happens to be when I’m making a cut, well… oopsie-daisies! We can’t all be perfect, now can we?” Ethan’s voice pitched into a deeper register and Mark swallowed hard.

“You d-don’t have to do this. Look, I don’t know what you are, but just let them go. Let Ethan and Tyler go a-and… and I don’t know, we could work something out! Surely you guys have better shit to do than ju-” Mark’s reasoning was cut-off by another scream, now unhindered, as a fresh shock traveled through him. Tyler was ever silent, but Ethan’s giggling rang in his ears as the younger man leaned in close to whisper.

“Ethan’s here. Ethan can see eeeeeverything. He acts like he’s upset, but I know part of him likes it. Doing this stuff, it validates a part of him you like to step on. And I know that part of him is gonna enjoy this just as much as I am.”

Ethan brought the knife to Mark’s bicep and made a shallow cut. It was no deeper than the ones on his neck, and would probably only produce a few rivulets of blood, but it still stung. Mark’s lips pulled back into a pained grimace and he hissed; wincing as he watched the blood well up. Ethan merely hummed and giggled in delight as he cut again, then again, before shifting over to cut at Mark’s uninjured forearm instead. Mark twitched and whimpered as the knife bit into his flesh but really, it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Bzzzt.

The next shock hit as Ethan was carving an elaborate curve into the back of Mark’s hand. He shouted and jolted in his seat, jarring the blade still pressed into his skin. Half of the arc became a deeper slice that cut into the meaty side of his palm and Mark’s shout swelled into a scream of pain as Ethan laughed outright.

“Hahaha! Whoops! Silly Tyler, you know I’m doing delicate work over here! Shame on you.”

The finger wagging was hardly humorous to Mark when he could feel blood pouring out of his hand. Clicking his tongue like a disapproving parent, Ethan paused to grab the cloth still resting around Mark’s shoulders. He wrapped the still damp length around Mark’s hand to stem the blood flow.

“There, there. Your buddy Ethan’s got you covered, Markimoo. See? Alllll better! Now where were we…?”

“Please, stop. Stop. I’ll do anything just please let me go….” Mark sniffled, the tears that had been stinging at his eyes dripping freely now down his cheeks. His lips trembled as Ethan cocked his head almost curiously; watching him. He tapped the bloodied knife to his lips thoughtfully.

“Hmmm…. Let you go? Let you go? Mmmm… no. No, don’t think that’s a thing I can do. Sorry pal! We’re just having way too much fun and we’re not gonna stop anytime soon! So buckle up, buttercup, ‘cause you got a lot of skin and I got a lot of ideas!”