A Slice Of Life

by Molly Moore
Knife play images

The cold edge of the steel flickers briefly before my eyes as you direct me to take my top off; a shiver runs down my spine, not of fear but of anticipation. In the pale soft light of the room you appear as a shadow within my sight, my eyes are firmly fixed on the blade in your hand, behind the blade is you, the blade is you and I want you to touch me.

Standing up you wrap one hand delicately underneath my chin and hold my neck, indicating me to sit beside me you then draw me forward and across so that my torso is draped over your lap.

“Still” you mummer to me, and as you do you gentle squeeze my neck as if to emphasise that one word. The implied importance of my role in this moment makes my breath catch momentarily in my throat.

I have a strong urge to fight you at times; I am at my most submissive when I am manhandled into it. It brings me crashing into my place at your feet knowing that I have been put there, because you can and because I need you too but this is different, this is slower, this is about the power of the mind the delectable thrill of a sharp weapon that you possess and I crave.

I close my eyes and wait for that first electric touch of the sharp steel against my flesh. When it comes it is colder than I expected and I realise that you are passing the flat side of the blade up and down my back in long cold strokes that make goose-bumps prickle across my skin and little shivers ripple down my back and across my shoulders. You pause when I move and I know you are waiting until you are sure that I am not going to wriggle and squirm beneath you. Unlike the previous knives you have used this one is not blunt; this one truly is a knife for cutting.

The first swipe of the blade runs from the top of my back all the way down to the rise of my bottom in one long consistent motion. My fingers clench into fists and my nails dig into the palms of my hands as I struggle to control the urge to move and you must sense the tension within my body and move your hand from the front to the back of my neck and apply and just enough pressure to keep my firmly in place over your lap. All I can do now is whimper.

You draw on my back, over and over, long downward strokes, followed by curving sweeps that slice over my shoulder blades and down my side, each pass of the knife feels like you are slowly peeling my skin from my back, one delicate layer at a time. Eventually each touch of the blade starts to mould into the one before as you mark more and more of me until my whole back feels like it has stripped of skin and all that remains is a deep throbbing heat. My mind is momentarily kicked back into focus when you press the point of the blade into the flesh of my ramp and run the hand that was moments before on the back of my neck gently down over your art work. As you trace the welts with your finger tips a tight hiss escapes from my throat as the almost too gentle touch makes my skin dance in a delicious agony of confusion. You hand slides back into place on the back of my neck and this time I can feel your fingers digging into me as you hold me tighter ensuring you are in total control of my movements. The knife no longer feels cold, quite the opposite in fact, or maybe it’s just that my skin has taken on a fiery glow in response to the constant scratching and scraping of the sharp blade across it but that heat is consuming now. It is all I can feel and all I can focus on as it grows and builds and seeps into the very core of me and in this moment with your lust carved into the flesh on my back, your hand wrapped tightly round the back of my neck I am completely an utterly at peace.

Nothing else matters, I don’t care about kids or mess or the need for someone to do some shopping. The pressing deadline of my writing project is forgotten, the fears that I will never finish it, that I am just a fake when it comes to penning a story is banished from my mind. The only things in my mind are you, me, a burning heat and deep sense of submissive bliss that is about to be well and truly rounded off as you ease me from my place across your lap and lead me upstairs to our bed.

Knife play images


Ps… Click on the icon below to see who else is joining in with Wicked Wednesday. The prompt this week is ‘peace’

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KaziG March 27, 2013 - 9:56 am

Eloquently described, as always, and a beautiful example of submission at its finest 🙂

~Kazi xxx

Marie Rebelle March 27, 2013 - 10:53 am

This made my flesh long for the touch you are describing. I have only experienced knife play once, and I definitely would like to experience it again!

Great post and I love the lines on your back!

Rebel xox

Mina Lamieux March 27, 2013 - 11:32 am

How I miss that wonderful feeling. Beautiful words to accompany a perfect image.

Bunny March 27, 2013 - 11:32 am

Beautifully descriptive. I love knife play so much. All of Silver and I’s knives are very very sharp but I think the added mental focus of making sure not to move under the blade really heightens the sensations. Your other half did an awesome job with these marks. Quite the talent really.

Cammies on the floor March 27, 2013 - 8:45 pm

I have loved knife play for forever it seems, yet only found two partners that I would want to do this with. Still, I don’t believe that I could have written it nearly as lovely as you.
This next week we’ve been discussing what we’re going to do (kids will be gone) and knife play will definitely be on the list.

John D March 27, 2013 - 9:11 pm

Vividly and candidly written; suddenly very easy for someone who has never played with knives to understand and appreciate.

Thoughtful as ever 😉

lovesexandmarriage March 28, 2013 - 2:39 am

Molly, you’ve just given me something for my bucket list. Goodness, does that sound fantastic! Thank you. *hugs and kisses*

Curvaceous Dee March 28, 2013 - 5:09 am

*melts reading the words*

*gets very wet seeing the image*

xx Dee


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