Knife Games

It was only the briefest of touches, a light brush of the fingertips over my cheek. My stomach tightened instinctively as I turned away and covered my face with my hands. I didn’t want him to see, to see my eyes, to know what I felt within my soul. For a moment it felt as if a light feather, the soft spines had been brushed over my body and I trembled involuntary. Waves of thoughts, moved through my mind, a numbness overpowering me. I ached for his touch again, but also feared what it could do to me.

His hand traversed through my hair, tilting my head back as I glanced up for a moment, his eyes lit with a smile much brighter then touched his lips. The only word I can think of to describe how I felt at that moment was that I melted. A rush raced through me, as quickly as the sun would melt a shard of ice. As I pooled at his feet, I had no choice but to close my eyes for I knew he was easily able to cause me to boil, an eruption of emotions that could no longer be contained.

I am sure I heard a snicker, a condescending laugh because he knew at that moment the power in which he held over me. He quickly released my hair, and me eyes comfortably fell back to the ground. He crouched in front me, his hands deftly taking mine as he slowly encircled the wrists with a soft white fiber. The cords surrounded them numerous times as they were bound together. I closed my eyes for a moment and wondered how the sensation of having my wrists bound could cause such stirring within. The dampness of my thighs would be easily visible, glistening, my sweet aroma rising.

Easily I was pulled to my feet, my arms hoisted above, as if in jubilation, giving gratitude for the moment. My breath could hardly be heard, though my breasts rose and fell rhythmically. I lifted my eyes for a moment, searching his face, a calmness enveloping me. For a moment I heard his voice, words unseeingly incoherent but soothing in my mind.

Closing my eyes quickly, my body tensed; I had caught for a moment the flicker of light cast from steel. Soft murmurs slipped from me unknowingly as an ethereal peace invaded my body. The sharp point of the metal slowly traced between the swell of my breasts, the point lightly pressed in. I did not know if it was invading my flesh, I was too afraid to look, afraid maybe because I ached it to. As the blade moved around the contours of each breast, it stopped for a moment pressing into the soft flesh.

I had as a child pricked my finger with a needle. I had let the blood slowly run from the smallest of cuts. It was almost in amazement, as I watched it slowly ooze and trickle down my finger. I watched the slow movement as it moved over my skin. I can remember lapping away the dribble, the tiniest amount and pressing my finger again trying to bring about another drop to watch it move down its path. It was part of me that escaped, a part I could never put back. When the red fluid would no longer flow, I sucked softly the taste almost soothing.

Lifting to my toes, I arched my body to the movement of the smallest of trickles, feeling it slowly move over my flesh. My fingers wrapped around the cord that held my arms and I pulled myself higher. The warmth of his tongue followed the line the droplet took; finally finding the small opening, sucking softly what was part of me.

Oh yes, bondage sets me free. Bondage of the mind, of the soul and of the body. Free to experience emotions and feeling that lay dormant in most. Free to explore the world of divinity and unexplained pleasure. Does is really matter why these actions draw from me some pleasure? I really don’t think so.