Would you **** me if I asked you to?

The knife was loose in your hand when you heard a tremulant voice utter "anything"

That voice was not your own.

Perhaps it was mine.

You are no demon's concubine, but a wistful fae thing with eyes that strike at my heart.

That heart which you held in the palm of your hand.

Would you cut me down with that beating blade, if only I would ask?

© Nathan A. Brock