The Knife's Edge CW: Sexual Content, Consensual Violence
“The first thing we must consider is the angle of the blade” The woman stated in the voice of a lecturer pointing out the finer points of solving a differential equation.
“Yes ma'am” I reply breathlessly, sitting rigidly in the metal chair.
The woman presses the cold knife against my thigh, the blade making a perfect 30° angle with the top of my leg. “The pressure is also quite important” she continued, “ Too much and you cut past the skin into the muscle.” The woman declared matter of factually. She shakes her head slightly, and the ponytail keeping her straight blonde hair out of her face bounces behind her.
“Of course” I reply like a medical resident observing the proper technique for inserting an infusion needle. As the edge of the blade cuts into my skin I pull on my restraints, using the last shreds of my self-preservation instinct. My wrists are tied above my head, and my arms make involuntary downward movements; my feet push forward, yanking on the chains that attach their bonds to the chair. I watch the woman continue to cut into my skin, peeling off a single layer, and I try not to squirm. The pain is so intense it makes me want to vomit. Almost every part of my brain screams at me to tell her to stop, to beg her to release me; the part that is left moans in ecstasy. She finishes the strip, and places it next to her on a small table. Her eyes move from the small ribbon of skin to my eyes, and she raises her eyebrows expectantly. A small bead of sweat runs down her neck, following the path of her bra strap to the top of her breasts.
“Another” I whisper.
Silently she looks down at the wet spot growing on the seat between my legs and smirks. Her lips pull into a devilish grin as she prepares the blade, again placing it at a perfect 30° angle, the same spot mirror on the other leg. The knife begins to bite into my flesh again and my abs try to pull my body into a fetal position, fruitlessly straining against my restraints. As she finishes with the second strip, I feel the the pressure that has been building explode, causing full body convulsions. Every time the muscles in my legs constrict, I cry out in pain; she holds my head and caresses me gently. “There, there” she whispers softly into my ear, “that's a good girl.”