Knifeplay

INTRODUCTION TO KNIFE PLAY

It had been a delightful dinner and we had adjourned to the dungeon. I was very impressed with the design of our host's equipment. In particular I admired the ingenious mounting of the St. Andrews cross. Carly was not into the details of such things and, at any rate, had other things to concentrate on as I inserted the dildo end of our host's fucking machine into her already wet opening. Our host had designed the cross and the fucking machine so that they could be used together - an unusual, but very logical combination I thought.

After warming Carly up with a soft flogger, I turned on the fucking machine and continued the flogging as the machine began to relentlessly pump her. I liked watching the machine stroke her as she stood there, bound spread-eagle to the cross - taking its thrusts while I continued to lay leather straps across her back and butt.

I gave her a good solid flogging, but nothing exceptional. She was only able to stand the relentless pounding of the fucking machine for a few minutes. Personally, I got a lot out of it though because I viewed it for what it was - a torture device - not necessarily an implement of pleasure. After shutting off the mechanical fucker and removing its probe from inside her, I continued working her over, changing implements and tempos as the background music struck my mood. For perhaps another half an hour I flogged her using two hands, changing occasionally to a single tail whip which delivered the stinging bites she likes so much. It had been over a month since her last flogging so it got to her faster than normal.

After I took her down, we were relaxing when our hostess approached with an excited, but slightly twisted gleam in her eye. "Would you like to try some knife play?"

We both knew that our host was well skilled with a knife, so even though Carly was still a bit spent she immediately perked up at the suggestion. "Absolutely!" I replied.

I knew Carly had been wanting to try knife play for some time now. To be honest, my interest was more in pleasing her, since some of the scenes I had watched looked a bit theatrical as opposed to true erotic torture. But I was very interested in watching our host work, and in learning the technique.

I was immediately impressed with the method he chose to restrain her. We put a bit gag into Carly's mouth and pulled it in tight. He then had Carly lay on a table with her head resting on a small but firm roll that served as a pillow. He used the large rings of the bit gag to tightly fasten her head to the table. This essentially made her immobile even though she could still move her limbs. He indicated that further restraint was unnecessary since once she saw the giant knife he was about to use, she would voluntarily lie very still. Nonetheless, I tied her arms and legs to the corners of the table, if for no other reason than to satisfy my aesthetic need to see her fully restrained.

From the first stroke I knew that this was no act. As the deliciously evil strains of Basic Instinct played in the background I watched in fascination as he poised the giant knife above her, allowed it to make contact, and pulled it across her body. Carly's reaction was unlike her demeanor in most scenes. There was a stillness mixed with tension that was very erotic.

Our host was artfully meticulous as he repeatedly drew the knife time and again across her skin - raising microscopic fine red welts with each draw of the knife. The patterns emerging on her skin would eventually fade, but now were a horrifying site as the nude girl lay strapped to the table, unable to stop the slicing of her body. After creating a delightful spider pattern which covered the entire upper portion of her body, he handed the knife to me with a smile. I took the massive weapon gladly and marveled at its weight and intimidating shape.

He told me that the mass of the knife would do all the work - all I had to do was guide it. He had done a masterful job. Carly lay motionless on the table, but I could see from her breathing and the perspiration on her skin that the knife was having the desired effect on her. But our host had also been too much the gentleman, stopping short of the ultimate cut. I carefully placed the tip of the knife high on her breastbone at the base of her neck and with the first draw pulled it slowly from her neck straight down her chest, between her breasts, across her tummy and then for the first time down across her pelvic area to her clit.

The deep gurgling sounds emanating from her mouth and the quivering of her body provided all the reward I needed. I knew that in her mind she believed she had just been raped, slit open and gutted.

I drew the knife over and over again, retracing the paths that our host had laid, and exploring new territory - her legs, her arms and her crotch. She was stressing now especially when I probed the extremely sensitive areas between her legs and down her sides. She began to struggle and I delighted as she pulled at the ropes that held her arms and legs in place, but I derived particular pleasure as the bit dug deeper into her mouth as it held her head fast to the table.

In a way we were both right. As the scene progressed Carly started to struggle - fiercely pulling at the ropes that held her down - but she did lay perfectly still while the knife was on her. Her struggling was more an effort to free herself from the gag that held her down than to escape the carving that she was being subjected to.

As the knife continued to do its work I watched the intricate pattern of lines forming all over her body. Her perspiration began to interact with the attacks of the knife upon her skin creating a warm searing sensation.

As I was carefully carving a line down Carly's side, I noticed that our host and hostess had started a rather erotic scene of their own. I really hoped that it was Carly's torture that had sparked their intensified passions.

I have to admit that I had been wrong. There was nothing contrived about Carly's reaction to the blade. I loved watching it, and with the knife in my hand, loved bringing those emotions upon her myself. There is a big difference between detachedly watching a knife scene and being involved in one. Being bound while a sharp, heavy steel object creases your skin as it is dragged slowly to places that you can not control. Being the person responsible for maintaining the balance between the eroticism and the terror. It was a very heady experience!

As we left our host's house, Carly looked at me, and with an intensity I rarely hear from her told me firmly "I'm buying you a knife!"

It had been a delightful dinner and we had adjourned to the dungeon. I was very impressed with the design of our host's equipment. In particular I admired the ingenious mounting of the St. Andrews cross. Carly was not into the details of such things and, at any rate, had other things to concentrate on as I inserted the dildo end of our host's fucking machine into her already wet opening. Our host had designed the cross and the fucking machine so that they could be used together - an unusual, but very logical combination I thought.
After warming Carly up with a soft flogger, I turned on the fucking machine and continued the flogging as the machine began to relentlessly pump her. I liked watching the machine stroke her as she stood there, bound spread-eagle to the cross - taking its thrusts while I continued to lay leather straps across her back and butt.
I gave her a good solid flogging, but nothing exceptional. She was only able to stand the relentless pounding of the fucking machine for a few minutes. Personally, I got a lot out of it though because I viewed it for what it was - a torture device - not necessarily an implement of pleasure. After shutting off the mechanical fucker and removing its probe from inside her, I continued working her over, changing implements and tempos as the background music struck my mood. For perhaps another half an hour I flogged her using two hands, changing occasionally to a single tail whip which delivered the stinging bites she likes so much. It had been over a month since her last flogging so it got to her faster than normal.
After I took her down, we were relaxing when our hostess approached with an excited, but slightly twisted gleam in her eye. "Would you like to try some knife play?"
We both knew that our host was well skilled with a knife, so even though Carly was still a bit spent she immediately perked up at the suggestion. "Absolutely!" I replied.
I knew Carly had been wanting to try knife play for some time now. To be honest, my interest was more in pleasing her, since some of the scenes I had watched looked a bit theatrical as opposed to true erotic torture. But I was very interested in watching our host work, and in learning the technique.
I was immediately impressed with the method he chose to restrain her. We put a bit gag into Carly's mouth and pulled it in tight. He then had Carly lay on a table with her head resting on a small but firm roll that served as a pillow. He used the large rings of the bit gag to tightly fasten her head to the table. This essentially made her immobile even though she could still move her limbs. He indicated that further restraint was unnecessary since once she saw the giant knife he was about to use, she would voluntarily lie very still. Nonetheless, I tied her arms and legs to the corners of the table, if for no other reason than to satisfy my aesthetic need to see her fully restrained.
From the first stroke I knew that this was no act. As the deliciously evil strains of Basic Instinct played in the background I watched in fascination as he poised the giant knife above her, allowed it to make contact, and pulled it across her body. Carly's reaction was unlike her demeanor in most scenes. There was a stillness mixed with tension that was very erotic.
Our host was artfully meticulous as he repeatedly drew the knife time and again across her skin - raising microscopic fine red welts with each draw of the knife. The patterns emerging on her skin would eventually fade, but now were a horrifying site as the nude girl lay strapped to the table, unable to stop the slicing of her body. After creating a delightful spider pattern which covered the entire upper portion of her body, he handed the knife to me with a smile. I took the massive weapon gladly and marveled at its weight and intimidating shape.
He told me that the mass of the knife would do all the work - all I had to do was guide it. He had done a masterful job. Carly lay motionless on the table, but I could see from her breathing and the perspiration on her skin that the knife was having the desired effect on her. But our host had also been too much the gentleman, stopping short of the ultimate cut. I carefully placed the tip of the knife high on her breastbone at the base of her neck and with the first draw pulled it slowly from her neck straight down her chest, between her breasts, across her tummy and then for the first time down across her pelvic area to her clit.
The deep gurgling sounds emanating from her mouth and the quivering of her body provided all the reward I needed. I knew that in her mind she believed she had just been raped, slit open and gutted.
I drew the knife over and over again, retracing the paths that our host had laid, and exploring new territory - her legs, her arms and her crotch. She was stressing now especially when I probed the extremely sensitive areas between her legs and down her sides. She began to struggle and I delighted as she pulled at the ropes that held her arms and legs in place, but I derived particular pleasure as the bit dug deeper into her mouth as it held her head fast to the table.
In a way we were both right. As the scene progressed Carly started to struggle - fiercely pulling at the ropes that held her down - but she did lay perfectly still while the knife was on her. Her struggling was more an effort to free herself from the gag that held her down than to escape the carving that she was being subjected to.
As the knife continued to do its work I watched the intricate pattern of lines forming all over her body. Her perspiration began to interact with the attacks of the knife upon her skin creating a warm searing sensation.
As I was carefully carving a line down Carly's side, I noticed that our host and hostess had started a rather erotic scene of their own. I really hoped that it was Carly's torture that had sparked their intensified passions.
I have to admit that I had been wrong. There was nothing contrived about Carly's reaction to the blade. I loved watching it, and with the knife in my hand, loved bringing those emotions upon her myself. There is a big difference between detachedly watching a knife scene and being involved in one. Being bound while a sharp, heavy steel object creases your skin as it is dragged slowly to places that you can not control. Being the person responsible for maintaining the balance between the eroticism and the terror. It was a very heady experience!
As we left our host's house, Carly looked at me, and with an intensity I rarely hear from her told me firmly "I'm buying you a knife!"