The girl who was a cutter

There once was a girl and she chopped potatoes. One day she suddenly felt the sharp of the knife sinking in her flesh. It was a moment of sharp, hot pain, then the red followed. She stared at her palm gaping at the wound, feeling an unexpected tickling on the back of her chest. Also she felt a little wet inside of her skirt, as the blood slithered from her fist to the floor.
"It burns", she thought, "But not in my hand". Shivers of pleasure crawled up her spine.
But then mom came and yelled, not out of shock or concern, but with anger as her beautiful clean kitchen was tainted with red.
Now he girls longs to be asked to chop vegetables again, waiting the moment of get sloppy and feel it afresh.
"Fool, silly girl, you'll never cut vegetables for me again" mother would scream every time, but then she forgot and let her take over the chore.
And the girl would sleep in her bed pushing her thumb against the cut in her palm feeling the hot, sharp pain crawl down her spine and die in her undies with a suffocated moan.



(por cierto es historia de la vida real)