Life out on the ....Edge

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My lover was bound, wrist and ankles spread wide for me. Blindfolded. Helpless and vulnerable, yet still clothed. This was by design. Normally, I removed all clothing before binding her, leaving her naked, exposed, helpless, and vulnerable. But, not this time. No, this time was going to be different.

My pulse began to try to pound with excitement as my fingers closed on the hilt of the blade close to hand. In my youth, when my cohort was fascinated by things that went bang, I was enthralled by the control accorded by a blade. I was so fascinated by them that I learned to throw circular saw blades and then even razor blades the way many threw darts. But, what really fascinated me was the feel of transference, almost a shock traveling up the tang, into the hilt, to my hand, up my arm, and to my brain when the blade in my hand did what it was designed to do when it cut.

I made myself pause and take a slow, calming breath as I stood over my willing prey, my blade in my hand and quelled the anticipation in my mind, in my chest. Slowly, calmly, almost gently, I laid the flat of the blade against her delicate throat, just over where the pulse was throbbing in her throat and was rewarded with her flinch from the cold metal.

"What is that?" She asked.

"A blade," I growled low but distinct. "Do you trust me?"

"Wh-which one?"

"Your favorite," I smiled. She'd been almost as fascinated by my collection as I was. Almost. And particularly enamored of one particular piece. "Do. You. Trust. Me?"

A shiver wracked her and she began to tremble as I waited for the response I knew was coming, pressing the blunt tang of the long, sharp blade against her exposed neck. I waited for a long time. But, I was nothing if not patient. For me, the anticipation was over. The play had already begun as I saw the evidence of her nervousness warring with her trust in me in the way her skin rippled with shudders and the feathery hairs stood on end in her gooseflesh.

"Y-yes, Master," she said quietly, the tremble in her voice like an electric shock straight to my groin.

"Good girl," I said quietly as I slipped the blade beneath the profane material hiding her flesh from my hungry gaze and, with a soft tearing sound half-hidden beneath her gasp, began to peel the sweet fruit I would devour.
 
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Good for him for rising to the occasion. That must be a very confused erection. Hot babe, check. Holding the base of my member? Check. Long tongue applied to cock, check. Big scary knife right next to my dick? Argh!
 
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That looks like a good start to the festivities.
 
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A knife? are you flirting with me?
 
Edgy and pointy!

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Until the waxing salons open up again ... ;)

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