prompt: voyeurism/cameras
tags/// fem!reader x mark griffin, knife play, genital knife play, cutting, blood
“Fuck, look at you,” Mark breathed, dragging the small blade of his knife against your skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to threaten to cut. “Does that hurt?”
“A-A little,” you panted. Your heart pounded in your chest. Knife play wasn’t something the two of you had done yet, nor was it something you thought that you’d be into, but you were willing to try for him.
“Would you like it to hurt more?” he asked genuinely. The knife dug deeper into your skin just a tick and you hissed through your teeth.
“No—this is okay,” you said. You liked pain, but this was a different type of play for you.
“Shame, where’s your sense of adventure, hm?” he teased, but he eased up on the pressure, dragging the blade down the side of your belly, a small dribble of blood finally beading up out of your skin.
“Mark—“ you gasped. You barely felt the cut, he was so skilled with the knife, but the sharp sting afterwards throbbed subtly.
“Look at the camera, pretty, it’s watching you,” he interrupted, taking your chin in his hand so he could turn your head towards it. The light flashed red, indicating that you were being recorded, just as you’d been so many times before.
“Is—is that really necessary?” you asked. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being recorded, just that he insisted on doing it every time.
“Is what necessary?” he asked, looking confused.
“You always record us…” you murmured.
“I like it. Do you not?” He looked upset at the implication and a little hurt.
“No…I-I do,” you stammered, not wanting to hurt his feelings, “I just hah—“ your words were cut off when he made a small cut against your belly.
“I like watching them back…seeing the way I’ve made you feel. Your expressions are so sweet,” he praised, moving the knife away from your skin to inspect it. There was a small trail of blood glistening against the metal and he cleaned it off with his pointer finger, dragging it across his tongue just to taste you.
“Mark—“ The sight made something warm spark in your belly, much to your surprise, thighs squeezing together.
“Do you want this?” he asked. “I’m going to ask you one last time before we begin.”
He looked serious, clutching the knife in his hand, intentionally keeping it far away from your body until you told him otherwise.
“I do want this,” you agreed, and you did. “Just—go slow, okay? I’ve never done this before…”
“Of course, we will go at the pace you desire,” he said, stepping in between your thighs now. He was completely naked, his cock bouncing between his legs, already hard from the little cuts he’d already made on your body. “You are okay with me cutting you, yes?”
You nodded. “Don’t go too deep.”
“I won’t unless you ask,” he assured you, dropping the knife between your legs. He pressed the flat end of it against your cut, keeping the blade away from your sensitive parts, and dragged it up teasingly. It brushed against your clit, making you gasp from the small spark of pleasure.
The knife found its way to the piece of skin underneath your belly button, the very tip of it pressing in hard enough to sting, but not penetrate, before he brought the blade all the way up to your breasts, teasing it against your nipples.
The stimulation was soft and sharp, a soft stinging that made you mewl and press up into the touch.
Mark laughed at your sudden enthusiasm. “You like it? My little toy loves the threat, doesn’t she?”
You bit your lip and nodded. “Could you, uhm, cut me again?” you asked softly. You wanted to feel the sharp sting again.
“Of course. Where would you like it?” he whispered. There were so many places he wanted to draw blood from, all of them intimate and delicate, but he wouldn’t do that to you, not yet.
“Below my nipple?” you breathed and Mark chuckled.
“What a bold first choice,” he exclaimed. The knife was immediately pressed to your areola, simply gliding across your skin at first, appreciating the way your nipple hardened, before he pressed down and cut the smallest little cut into you.
He watched as the blood leaked down your breast, his cock throbbing at the very sight. He was so aroused that he had to resist the urge to slam into you immediately.
You moaned at the burning pain, tilting your head back with a gasp. “Pinch my nipple,” you begged.
Mark complied, squeezing your nipple in between his fingers, the pinching sensation amplifying the pain from the cut.
“Tell me where else you want it,” he whispered, feeling antsy to mark you all over. His voice quivered with need.
“Put it against my pussy again,” you begged, cunt clenching at the very thought. “O-On my clit. Don’t cut me—just—press it against it. Please.”
Mark’s face lit up at the request. “Ah, there’s that sense of adventure I was talking about,” he grinned, bringing the knife down to your cunt, doing exactly as you asked. He pressed the very tip of it against your swollen little clit just enough for you to feel it.
You moaned softly, your thighs trembling, a gush of slick leaving you. Your heart pounded in your chest at the feeling, fight or flight instincts kicking in naturally.
“Mark,” you cried. The adrenaline coursed through you, making you feel bold and desperate. You wanted it to hurt. Your clit was throbbing with an excruciating need—you needed to cum, and you needed it fast.
“Rub my clit with it,” you breathed. “God, please, I don’t care if you cut me, just do it.”
Mark was practically trembling now. He didn't think that you would let him do half of what you were asking, his need was just as bad if not worse than yours.
He forced his hand to steady and began to rub the knife against you, pressing the sharp tip against it every few seconds so that you could feel it. He didn’t want to cut you yet, that would be too much all at once, but god could he see how much your pussy was leaking for him.
You nodded rapidly. “Yes—mmh—fuck. Choke me, please—“
His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing hard, almost cumming when he watched the way your eyes rolled back into your head and your tongue lulled out of your mouth. Your hips ground up into the touch subtly, trying to get the knife to press harder into your clit, and Mark watched you in utter awe.
He’d never seen you like this before, so desperate to be hurt.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “My masochistic princess, I adore watching you.”
The red light of the camera was still flashing a few feet away. “Look at the camera again, darling,” he whispered, “let it see how much you love this, yeah? Don’t look away. Not even when you cum.”
You turned your head to the side, letting your blissed out expression be captured in all its glory. That’s when Mark let the knife glide against your skin, cutting the smallest little cut against your throbbing clit.
You came immediately, scream muffled from his hand around your neck, your hips humping into the tip knife to get it to hurt more.
Mark removed his hand and the knife as soon as you came down, a damp cloth immediately pressed to your cunt to stop the blood. There wasn’t a lot, the cut wasn’t that deep at all, but you appreciated the thought anyway.
“Oh—“ you breathed. “Wow…”
“You liked it?” he asked shakily.
You nodded. “Of course. Yes.” You blinked up at the ceiling lazily, panting. “Can you—do one last thing?”
“Of course, what is it, my love?”
“Cut your name into my skin.”
Mark’s heart throbbed. He brought the knife between your legs with a shaky breath, pressing it against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
The name Mark was slowly cut into the skin of your thigh, deep enough for blood to pool down your skin, but not enough to scar. At most it would be there for a week before healing over, and you found yourself a little disappointed by that fact. Maybe something to explore another time.
“How does it look?” you asked.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful, thank you.”
“You didn’t cum,” you rasped, eyeing his throbbing erection.
Mark had almost completely forgotten about it. He wrapped his hand around his cock with a hiss. “Would you let me fuck you?”
Your thighs squeezed together again. “Please.”
