TW: Knife Play, Blood Play, CNC.
You're stuck behind all alone in the kitchen, everyone else has gone home. Just as you finish up your cleaning, you hear someone walk in, and before you can even say anything, you feel a firm hand on your back, forcing you over the counter.
You start to turn your head, but you feel the rough skin of his hand gripping your head, forcing your face against the metal counter as his other hand moves down, grabbing your leg and lifting it up as he rips your trousers off your body.
As his rough hand pushes down against your head, you see his free hand slip past your face, slowly pulling a knife from the block, running the sharp point past your eye, along your cheek, down your face, and under your collar, before cutting away at your top, tearing it from your body, until it falls away from you.
As you stand there, your nipples pressed hard against the cold steel of the counter, you feel the blade effortlessly running down your spine, your skin on fire as it glides along you.
When it gets to your hips, he lifts it away, before sliding it between your legs, easing up your legs, skipping along the skin between your thighs before sliding into your underwear and separating your dripping pussy lips and their lace mesh covering, before cutting it away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
He lifts the blade from your ass, chuckling, before bringing it up to your face and offering it up to your cheek, the sharp edge running softly along your skin, looming over you as he growls a single solitary word in your ear as a command.
"Tongue."