You have discovered the second of thirteen secret pages hidden within Velvet Mafia's 13th issue. Try your best to uncover all thirteen hidden surprises from our family members...

 

“First Cut” by Greg Wharton
Appeared in Shadows of the Night

I cut myself. I was slicing tomatoes for our sandwiches when it happened. One quick slice of the big knife with the ring finger of my right hand hidden underneath and it was over. Immediately the blood started flowing freely, before the sensation of the cut actually registered in my brain. It started throbbing and I panicked. There was no pain, but I still yelled, “Shit. Help!” I let the water run over it for a couple minutes before I applied pressure with a paper towel, then gave up on stopping the blood and wrapped a Band-Aid tightly around it. I continued with the preparation of the sandwiches, more careful with each slice of the knife this time.

The next morning the bleeding had stopped. What was left was a very deep cut in a semicircle across my finger about half an inch in from the tip. I played with it marveling at how deep it was and the fact I could pull it apart and see that far into the inside of my finger. I applied another Band-Aid, and tried to forget it.

Days passed and the wound scabbed, leaving loose skin around its edges. I left it uncovered. No matter what I did during the day, I couldn't help fingering at it, playing with it. The flayed piece of finger had secured itself back down, but it didn't feel quite right. It didn't really hurt, but all sensation in my body was tied directly to it. I trimmed off the excess skin with a nail clipper leaving a perfect crescent scab that ringed my finger. I couldn't stop myself from picking at it, enjoying the sight of it, and amazed at the healing power my body had.

I pulled the last of the scab off. My thumb dug into the crater that was left, soft new pink skin sensitive to the touch and my nipples hardened. I reclined back on my bed with my hard cock in my other hand and jerked off while sucking on my finger, running my tongue over the healing wound, licking it around the ridge over and over much like a cockhead. I ejaculated hard into the air.

When my lover fucked me that night, I visualized myself with a fresh cut across my chest running through both nipples. I told him to fuck me harder. “Harder!” When he grabbed my nipples, I screamed out in ecstasy. His fingers pulled on the bloody nipples that had been severed in half and I shot my orgasm with a fury I've seldom known.

The cut is all but healed. All that remains is a slight ridge of pale skin circling the tip of my ring finger, and a memory of the past two weeks. I miss it. I'm making pasta sauce for dinner. My cock is thumping against the front of my jeans as I cut the tomatoes in preparation. I bring the edge of the knife down across the palm of my hand, pressing down hard with the long sharp blade, to carve another cut.

 

© Greg Wharton - Contributor's Website