Giving Blood

I gave blood last night for a worthy cause-  T’s enjoyment.  She put me on my knees, then got out a knife.  We’d done knife play before, but never any cutting.  She had scratched me with the blade before, causing red or pink lines to form, though there was never any blood.  Last night, she went further.

As she dragged the blade across my flesh, I felt the same scratching sensation as before.  But at one point I looked down, and there was a small amount of blood filling some of the lines.  Not bleeding actively, just barely coming to the surface.

She carved “HxCL” into my chest and back, a reference to how I’m a “hardcore legend”, a running joke between some friends and I.  In addition, she also cut me in a few locations on the chest, abdomen, shoulders, and back.  The sensation wasn’t much different than the normal scratching she’d done previously, which I found surprising.  It added another dimension to the emotional aspect of knife play since now she had the option of actually cutting me.

When I look in the mirror, most of the cuts are still visible, but one stands out on my left shoulder and chest.  It’s bolder, stronger than the other cuts she made.  I’m still processing everything, but I get pleasant feelings when I see that.

A little while after carving the sub, we tried out a new toy I got.  I bought a white canvas straitjacket a couple weeks ago that I’d been itching to try.  The price surprised me- $40, and it’s machine washable.  Which is a good thing, considering we got it a little bloody during its first use.  It held up well.  Once she had me strapped in, T gagged me before proceeding to strap on a massive dildo, bend me over, and fuck me.

For 40 minutes.

Ack.  That was brutal.  I couldn’t even beg her to stop since I was gagged.  (We did have a safe-signal set up in case of emergency.)  At one point, I thought she was done, and I relaxed, letting out a long sigh of relief.  At that point, T put me on my back and kept going.  By then, all I could do was struggle against the straitjacket and whimper incomprehensibly into the gag.  I was pleading with my eyes for her to stop.  She towered over me, smiling and laughing at my torment, knowing I was unable to stop her.  That image is still cemented firmly in my head.  Her pleasure was clearly evident in her face, and her smile had a slight mocking quality to it.  Her power and my lack of control as she violated me were mind-boggling.  Such intense feelings.

After we were done, we got some of the toys cleaned up and cuddled for a while.  After lots of talking and cuddlification, when we were about to get to bed, she told me to get the bed warmed up and that she’d be right in.  Soon she was walking toward me, and she had a cup of water.  That was nice of her.  But she also had a wicked look in her eyes.  I wondered why since we’d been done playing for a while by then.  As she crawled onto the bed, I realized that it wasn’t water, and the “oh shit” alarm went off in my brain.  She handed me the cup and made me drink her piss.  Disgusting.  And with every grimace and shudder, her smile got bigger, and that reminded me why I was doing it.

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