then there was the knife

“Poor Richard, for once he was clueless with what to do for me. He had just obviously pleasured me and yet there I was against him whimpering knowing I needed something but unable to put into words what I needed.

“What do you want.” he asked me not so much with a question in his voice but with a ‘just tell me’ so I can help you through this. I didn’t know and I tried the best I could to put it into words. I remember rolling back towards him and trying very hard to meet his eye when I said it…”I need you to hurt me.”

As I spoke it became obvious to me that was exactly what I needed. I need to feel something I told him. I needed a heavy dose of physical stimulation to the point of feeling I could have allowed him to hurt me anyway he desired. And again…poor Richard. He was trying to sooth me and bring me back down to earth (we had a dinner date) and I was pressing against him asking for pain. I remember him half sitting up and one hand on the back of my neck pressing me against the bed and his other hand landed a series of hard spanks across my bottom. I think it was the hardest I had ever been hit and I wasn’t able to process it all or any of it as pain. I was still deep enough into subspace where it was all pleasure which ordinarily would be a good thing but today, and this is probably due to the time I spent with my senses lost, I craved the pain. I resented the pleasure that filled me every time his hand made contact with my skin.”

 

“Get me the knife.”

Four words. And I don’t remember getting up and getting it for him.

I was again placed on my tummy and he had the knife against my bottom just teasing and scraping softly allowing the edge to press into my skin. I heard his voice, alwyas expressive, in my ear but I don’t know what he was saying. I felt him press the sharp edge against me and drag it smoothly and slowly across my skin pressing in deep enough where I thought he had surely cut me. He did it a few other time in that exact way and each time I felt my skin pull and rebel against the knife never allowing it access, never allowing it to break my skin. “Roll over’” he whispered.

He ran the knife down between my breasts and around each nipple , never pressing in hard enough to cut me. I watched it on my skin. I knew he was going to cut me. I had a sense that it was coming so when he rested the blade just above my nipple I willed myself to relax. I felt the blade press into my skin, I felt a moment of pain and then the sensation of having the knife pull through my skin overwhelmed me. I remember thinking….Oh my God…I don’t believe he actually cut me. Now as he reads this he is most likely laughing because he says it isn’t truly a cut – though I sit here days later and have the mark still. To me, it is a cut. To him…well it looks like my cat got a little kinky.

The intensity of the knife scene though only heightened my longing for a pain experience. I didn’t have to even tell him this. Richard knew. As I admired my cut…a.k.a. ‘scratch’ he was getting the bamboo cane. He had me roll back over onto my stomach and he sat by my side. He told me he was going to give me three strokes with the cane. He said they were going to be extremely hard. I pushed my arms out in front of me and pressed my head down into the pillow. One, two, three…hard, hard, fast strokes of the pain. Low strokes, almost at the curve where butt meets thigh and as hard as he has ever caned me. I was in heaven. I turned and looked up at him…”Please” I said. “Please give me three more.” And he did, as hard as the first three and three more turned into six and then nine until I was writhing with pleasure and pain. It was perfect. I was in such a submissive state of mind and the feeling of pleasure I felt knowing I had pleased him so much added to it.

I am seeing him today again and I have no idea what the day will bring. Only that I am so thankful I am having these experiences with him. I am truly lucky.😉