Selvira stood in front of her full-length mirror, her short green hair catching the light of her dimly lit chambers. She ran a hand over her sun-kissed skin, her fingers tracing the toned muscles of her abs. Her other hand rested on her hip, drawing attention to the generous size of her fake breasts. She quirked a brow at her reflection, a wicked smile playing on her lips.
Her gaze fell on the large knife resting on a nearby table. She picked it up, her fingers wrapping around the hilt. The blade was sharp, gleaming in the low light. She ran the flat of it along her toned stomach, feeling a shiver of excitement run down her spine.
Selvira's fingers trailed lower, teasing the edge of her pants. She bit her lower lip, contemplating. With a decisive move, she slid the knife under the waistband of her pants and cut them off, letting them fall to the floor. She stood before the mirror, completely naked except for her fake breasts and the knife in her hand. She felt powerful, in control.
Her hand wandered to her breast, her fingers tracing the outline of the fake nipple. She pinched it, hard, a gasp escaping her lips. She repeated the action with her other breast, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Her free hand strayed lower, to her already wet center. She circled her clit with the tip of the knife, a low moan escaping her lips.
She continued to tease herself, the knife gliding smoothly over her sensitive flesh. Her other hand joined in, plowing roughly into her asshole. She bit down on her nipple, hard, her hips bucking with the sensation.
"Fuck, that feels good," she muttered to herself, her voice husky with desire. She continued to fuck herself with the knife, the blade slicing through her wet folds.
"Who needs a man when you have a knife?" she joked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Selvira's mind was focused solely on the pleasure coursing through her body. She didn't even notice the small cut she made on her clit. She continued to fuck herself with the knife, her moans growing louder.
Suddenly, Selvira's control snapped. With a cry, she sliced off her clit, the pain mixing with the pleasure. She bit down on her nipples, hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood.
"Oh gods, yes," she moaned, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. She collapsed onto her bed, the knife falling from her limp hand.
As she lay there, basking in the afterglow, Selvira couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had taken her pleasure into her own hands, literally. She smirked at the thought, already planning her next solo indulgence.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.