Under the Edge

The session begins with a very hard spanking. There is no slow build up, no gentle preparation, no niceties. The paddle smashes into your skin over and over. The fierce and rapid whacking sends bolts of pain shooting through your body. You grab the bedposts squeezing them with all your strength. Your muscles tighten under the relentless onslaught. You cry out. You feel absolutely helpless absorbing the sudden shock of this harsh and powerful ass whipping. As your resistance wanes you surrender to the feeling and your body goes limp. Your hands unclench. You buckle, your face falling onto the soft pillow at the head of the bed. Your breathing is heavy and strained. Your ass is screaming red. Your spirit is numb. You are ready for the next part of the session.

I turn you over on your back and place black leather restraints on both of your wrists. I skillfully tie them with rope to the bedposts, making sure the knots are very tight. Likewise I bind your feet placing the restraints just above your ankles. Next I put the leather collar around your neck. The metal ring in the center is then tied tightly to the bed frame. For a final touch I tie a black silken blindfold securely around your head.
You are mine. You are completely under my power and at my mercy. Your trust is strong but as always when you are bound there is an element of thrilling fear which arises. This fear is heightened by the unusual roughness of the session so far. You are scared, but there is no way you would ever want to back out. No, not now. Your body and senses are alive with an awareness and sensitivity which can be experienced in no other way. You welcome whatever is to come.

I move my tongue over your stomach area. My fingers run gently up and down your thighs. The action is soft and slow. Momentarily I slide my tongue across your clit flicking at it quickly. But the feeling is too short to be savored.

There is a knock at the front door. You are surprised when I stop and get up. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back.” You laugh. Yet you wonder what is going on. You hear the door open. You hear whispering but only briefly. When I come back in the bedroom you hear a stifled giggle. You are startled. There is someone else in the room. You are sure of it. You want to say something but you know you must not. You have been told to maintain silence during the session. And you do. But the unexpected addition to the scene has increased your level of awareness. Fear of the unknown always does.

I kneel next to you on the bed. I place the blade of the jackknife at the base of your breast. You feel the metal but you cannot yet identify it. Only when I scrape the edge across your breast do you know that it is a knife. You are frightened. You gasp. Your heart races. Your lips move, you stutter, yet no words come out. You are terrified yet eager. You could stop the scene with a safeword but you let it flow. I continue playing with the knife on your breasts. I carefully slide the razor sharp edge of the blade over your nipples. The feeling is intense. You moan loudly. Never have your nipples felt so alive. It is as if there are a million nerve endings on full alert. I push the needlelike point into the tips of your taut nipples. Your whole being is absorbed in the feeling. Nothing else exists. You cannot think. You cannot process. Your brain is saturated with the intensely concentrated signals sent from your nipples. You feel extraordinary pleasure as your sensitivity to touch rises to incredible peaks. And like an addict receiving a delayed fix, you crave more.

I move the knife all over your upper body. The steel heats every spot it touches. Your fear of being cut evaporates as you experience the pleasures of the blade. Even as I slide the blade horizontally across your throat, your extreme vulnerability only adds to the joy you feel. In fact you begin to laugh a little, although very carefully, as the edge caresses the curves of your neck. You love the risk. You love the rush.

I give a signal to our visitor who has been sitting in a chair in the corner of the room observing our session. Suddenly you feel a most intense sensation on the bottom of your left foot. A block of ice is being slowly rubbed on this most sensitive area. You pull your foot back but the restraints keep it from moving too far. The stranger grabs your lower leg to hold it steady. The ice is reapplied. The cold is unbearable. You struggle helplessly against the restraints, but you cannot escape. You scream loudly. Too loudly. I bend down to whisper in your ear in a very authoritative tone, “Keep quiet! You are to maintain silence, do you understand?” Your reply is a greatly muffled groan. Your teeth are tightly clenched as you shake your head from side to side. “Yes, there, that’s much better now. Enjoy the feeling. Cold is beautiful. It brings out the best in you. Savor it.”

Your feet are massaged with the block of ice until the heat from your skin melts it away completely. The visitor then dries your feet with a soft cotton towel. With another signal I command your icy tormentor to return to the chair in the corner to resume watching.
You lie before me a frazzled wreck. The intensity has exhausted you. I lower the level considerably for a bit. I kiss you on the mouth moving my tongue gently against yours. I touch you very lightly all over your body. The soft lovemaking relaxes you and brings you back to earth. Back to the reality of the bed. Back for more.

I move to the end of the bed, knife in hand. “Hmmm….I don’t think your feet have had enough yet. Let’s see.” I scrape the point over one of your arches. You moan loudly. Without thinking you say “No, no…I can’t…no more, please.” I dig the point in. You cry out again. Then you settle. You dig in and accept. You feel the knife. You need the knife. I torture your toes with the point. Slowly. After an eternity I move up your legs with the blade. Your breathing gets heavier as I go higher. You feel tremendous anticipation as I approach your crotch. You wonder what I will do. The session is in its third hour now. You crave the ultimate release. But how will it come?

I rub the blade over your pubic hairs. With my right hand I spread the lips apart. Very carefully I slide the tip of the knife inside you. Your breathing becomes frantic. You feel the blade in your pussy. Again, with great care, I move the blade forward ever so slightly. And again. And then again, over and over, moving it in a millimeter at a time until eventually the length of the blade is buried inside you. Your upper body is shaking. Yet below the waist you are perfectly still. You know that you must be. Any movement would be dangerous. You feel the steel, you feel the sharpness of the edge. You feel the heat. You feel your pussy soaking the
blade with your juices.

Once more the visitor is called over. You feel the warmth and the wetness of lips sucking vigorously at your right nipple while the left one is squeezed between delicate fingers. The feeling is soothing, a delicious counterbalance to the sensations down below.

I place the fingers of my right hand on your clit. Your reaction is spontaneous and fierce. The orgasm rips through your body and your soul. My fingers move back and forth rapidly over your swollen clit with increasing pressure. The orgasms envelop you one after another. They flow into each other in a seemingly endless succession of waves of explosive pleasure. You scream and moan until your voice gives out. Your release is total and absolute. There is no energy left within you. You achieve a state of complete numbness. You collapse.

Slowly I withdraw the blade from inside you. I am relieved to see that there are no cuts, for indeed the scene had frightened me somewhat. The edge can be a risky place to play sometimes. But the payoff can make it all worth it.

The visitor to our session is dismissed with a hearty, “Thank you”. Without saying a word the helpful sub leaves the apartment. I remove all your restraints except for the blindfold. We lay together fading into the sweet bliss of our dreams.