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Even the sutures are starting to turn me on. I plunge the needle into her flesh and pull it tight, closing the gash. I’m penetrating her with biting steel and fine thread, leaving something of mine inside of her for the next seven to ten days until the stitches come out.
I coveted Remi. And now here she is, on my arm. Looking up at me not quite with love, but with a brightness that eclipses any sun I’ve seen.

