It is easy to sense when the play has gone from the heat of leather or wood to the cool cutting tease of the blade.
My heart beats a rapid tattoo against my chest as the blade travels along my skin .. leaving in it's wake rising welts in it's wake. Always the chance that the skin might open like a ripe tomatoe.. always the chance of a nick...
The adrenlin rushes through the veins.. pounding in the head.. pulse beats.. eyes close....
My mind's eye watches the blade travel - down my back .. over my ass.... down ..between my legs teasing... breathe catching in my throat... feeling the tightening deep inside..
This is my sensual play - always the threat?? promise?? of more..
And like with all play it ends way too soon... leaving me wanting more - the bane of my existence - the wanting more ............ push me further, higher, harder.
I have never had my own knife.
Raheretic has gifted me with this beautiful knife. A heavy knife with more edges and points than I have ever seen before.... and it makes such lovely patterns on my arms... (I couldn't resist trying it last night !!)
It is mine forever - a souvenir/reminder of these dear friends I call the Heron Clan