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struggles.
    Light burst behind Jacqueline’s closed eyes, and she tasted blood from her split lip as her head rocked against the ground.
    “You should know,” Carver said, picking up his blade and slicing open the front of her dress, “that I consider this foreplay.”
    Jacqueline blinked, the sound of ripping fabric and the rush of cold air across her bare breasts quickly clearing the fog brought on by the blow. “Get your hands off me! Don’t touch me, you filthy—”
    “It seems such a shame to gag you,” Carver panted, tearing a piece of lace from her dress and shoving it into her mouth. “I’d love to make use of that pretty little mouth of yours.”
    Jacqueline gagged as the cloth was shoved toward the back of her throat.
    “Not that I would trust you not to use your teeth.” Carver reached up and tightened the rope on the girl’s wrists before sitting back on his heels.  
    “Aren’t you a pretty one,” he said, cupping her breasts and caressing the tips with his thumbs.
    Jacqueline shuddered. Her skin crawled, and bile rose in the back of her throat.
    Carver hummed, rolling the tender bits of flesh between his fingers and twisting her nipples violently.
    Jacqueline cried out behind her gag and pulled harder on the rope.
    “I told you,” Carver warned. “Your pain is my pleasure.”
    Jacqueline froze as something cold and sharp was pressed between her breasts.
    “I suggest you hold very, very still.”
    Carver dragged the blade down between the girl’s breasts, parting the delicate skin and leaving a thin trail of blood. It was a shallow cut, just a scratch, really. He had, and would, cut deeper.
    Jacqueline sobbed at the sharp bite of pain. Muscles clenched tight, she strained against the instinct to flee, afraid the knife might slip and do more damage.  
    Carver slid back until he straddled her thighs. Grasping the torn halves of her dress, he ripped it down the center, exposing the flat of her belly. Bending his head, he reverently placed a kiss beside her navel.
    Jacqueline gagged at the press of cold lips to her skin.
    “So tender,” Carver whispered, and licked her stomach. “My favorite bit of flesh.”
    Then he sat back and started to cut.
    Jacqueline shrieked, her body arching up off the ground as white-hot pain pierced her abdomen. A hand between her breasts pinned her to the ground as the knife repeatedly bit into her flesh. The moment went on, pain blazing a haze of red behind her eyes.  
    When it was over, the coppery scent of blood permeated the air, the tang flavoring Jacqueline’s lips and filling her mouth and nose.  
    Carver licked the blood from his blade and eyed his work. The girl lay panting, her chest heaving. Her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and her stomach was smeared with blood.  
    The three symbols were perfect.  
    “Now you belong to me,” Carver whispered. On hands and knees, he crawled back up her body, her blood warm and sticky between them. Shoving her limp legs apart with his knee, Carver settled himself between her thighs. His cock hadn’t lost any of its stiffness. If anything, he’d grown harder, thicker, during the cutting.
    Reaching between them, Carver pushed the girl’s skirts out of the way, releasing himself from his pants and positioning himself at her entrance.
    Jacqueline stirred, the haze of pain clearing as her mind registered a new danger. Her skin was on fire, a sharp sting that reared to life as the rough fabric of his shirt brushed the flayed flesh of her stomach.
    “You’ll never forget me, girl,” he said, inching forward. She was dry, her body clamped down hard against him.
    Jacqueline felt him then and started to thrash. Behind her gag, she screamed, hot tears scalding her cheeks.
    “You’ll carry me with you forever,” Carver taunted as he thrust forward, shuddering as he ripped through the girl’s maidenhead and coated his cock in her blood. “Even in death.”

    Devil passed under the faded Hammer & Anvil