Content note for knife play and blood.
I’m not into knife play. I know that. I don’t even have to think about it. It’s something that I haven’t had to analyse. I thought about it once when I was asked about it about twelve years ago. It was a definite no.
I’m not into knife play but letting him use a knife to cut off my clothes will be fine. Fun even. I’m not into knife play but the way his hand wrapped around the handle, the focus in his look and the cold against my skin and then that noise of the blade splitting the fabric stopped my thoughts in my head, made my heart beat change and made something inside me surge.
I’m not into knife play but using a knife to scrape off the wax just makes sense. I’m always up for the practical solution. I’m not into knife play but as the edge of the blade pressed cold against my skin, slicing between me and the wax, I had that surge of feeling again. This time with a battle to stay still while I trembled and my cunt tightened. I’m not into knife play but right then I wanted that knife pressed against me until I caught my breath. I wanted to feel the feeling surge through me more.
I’m not into knife play. My brain has a whole list of reasons why not. I’m not into knife play because my brain tells me that I shouldn’t be.
“I’m not into knife play” might no longer be true as I sat, restrained to the chair with my thighs spread wide knowing that I am going to be marked. The adrenalin surge turned me on, pressing all my need, anticipation and the right level of fear buttons. The entire world distilled down to the knife, his hand and the look on his face as he traces the line across my sensitive skin.
The pain is exquisite, like a golden wire of heat being pulled through my skin. Utterly delicate and intense at the same time. I’m caught between squirming desperately onto him and staying so very very still. Each line making a web of beauty and wonder and making me float higher. Then a few moments later, some of those lines produce beautiful beads, like jewels adorning the score marks. Each ruby bead of blood appearing to match our delight and my floatiness.
I used to say, “I’m not into knife play”, but now, for a couple of people, I can say, “I’m into knife play with you.”
Oooh I get so many of these feels…knifes are unf! good.
I’m not either actually … but there is something quite breath-taking about your photo !!!
Xxx – K
Oh, Honey, this is a very very hot read. *melts*
No, not into it at all *laughs. I’m still envious, I need to find me someone that likes playing with knives.
“The pain is exquisite, like a golden wire of heat being pulled through my skin. Utterly delicate and intense at the same time. I’m caught between squirming desperately onto him and staying so very very still. Each line making a web of beauty and wonder and making me float higher. Then a few moments later, some of those lines produce beautiful beads, like jewels adorning the score marks. Each ruby bead of blood appearing to match our delight and my floatiness.”
THIS IS ABSOLUTE FIRE TO ME. It captures it so perfectly and made me ache with wnt
Molly