Chainsaw

Still kneading her stomach, he moved his paws lower and stopped. He stepped over her, two legs planted on either side of her. He stared down at her, his little pet. His toy.

He carefully prodded her upper stomach until he found the spot he was looking for, the on that bled. With a sudden press, his claw invaded her flesh, and the blood begun to flow immediately. He knew it would feel only like a a scratch, but the blood would be plenty. And it was.

He straddled her close to him, and began lapping at the blood with great speed. Little rivulets of the red escaped his tongue, and soon her whole stomach was a mixed of red and his saliva, his rough tongue moving over her soft flesh.