I lifted my head, releasing the grip of my hands and letting the weight of the breast pull the bitten teat out from between my teeth, the loose sack of fat slumping back against her chest with the livid and blood seeping indentations of my teeth very visible. Rose cried out, her hands coming up to cover her face while I stepped closer, turning the flared end of the light in my hand to hold the club in a dagger grip. The bedspread was dark between her spread legs, a growing stain spreading out from under her lower belly flap, showing Rose had lost bladder control at some point in the brutality I had inflicted on her. The closed blades fit into the pocket up to the joining rivet, the hilts and orange plastic finger-holes supported above the mottled skin of her belly. Added to the grossly visible injuries I had inflicted on Rose this small detail was the last straw in arousing me.
