The knife was whispering across his skin as he begged me not to hurt him. I laughed quietly, knowing that was all that he would know from now on. Running the blade gently, I drew tiny streaks of blood. He would not stop whining, so I dragged the knife down towards his cock. He was uncut, and although I prefer uncircumcised cocks, this one was getting on my nerves. I grabbed a handful of his cock, and slid the knife right through it at the base. He screamed, so I shoved that detached cock right in his open mouth. “Here’s your circumcision, bitch.” I laughed cruelly.
I spent hours skinning him after I cauterized his bleeding little stump. I really love the way his eyes pleaded with me first for release, then for mercy, and then for death. I would give him one of those, and he and I both knew which one it would be. It was a slow death for him, skinning him alive and rubbing sultry, salty seasonings into his flesh. I intended to roast this one; he had good muscle with just enough fat to be absolutely delicious. I know how to slowly roast, to keep them alive for as long as possible as the meat cooks. The fear gives the flesh such a fantastic flavoring, I can’t even begin to describe it.
I took my time, flayed him good and seasoned him right. He was going to be a delicious treat. I tied his hands behind his back, and bound him tightly to the large, wooden stake. I would be roasting him over open flames! The smoke, of course, was going to fill up the neighborhood. Everyone would wonder what smelled so fucking good; it’s your piggy chief of police honey. Come over and grab a bite!
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