The First Time Ivy Tried Knifeplay

The First Time Ivy Tried Knifeplay, Part 3

(part 2 can be found here) (part 1 can be found here)

I was a never a huge fan of having my, or anyone else’s, panties in my mouth. Mostly because cotton gets all waterlogged and nasty, lace becomes scratchy, so on and so forth. And, on top of that, I really don’t like the taste of lace, cotton, etc mixed with the taste of a woman. The second one can be damn good on its own. But with some sort of textile? Blegh.

Now tasting myself and praising my choice of wearing thin, cotton panties, I was going over in my head the details of my situation – the being blindfolded whilst tied down to my girlfriend’s bed as she hovered over me with something only slightly less threatening than a sushi knife – when I heard the wooden handle settle onto her bedside table. At least she had put the knife down.

She started smacking over my thighs, causing me to jump and whimper and quiver with each hit. She stopped when they were stinging, practically screaming with what I’m sure was blatant redness. It was then that she straddled the left one and started to get herself off, eliciting a whimper from my lips each time her knee brushed my desperate sex.

I wanted her so badly. I wanted anything right now. She knew her effect on me when she pleasured herself on me, but she just took her sweet time in acknowledging it. Her hand moved down to my breast, squeezing and twisting my nipple painfully until I cried out around my panties.

And finally, after what had seemed too long, her fingers sank between my legs. “Does slutty want to cum?” she cooed. I bit down hard on the panties, trying not to scream in frustration as I nodded. She pressed on harder, not giving explicit permission until what felt like forever.

When I had finally regained composure, she removed the blindfold and smiled down at me as my focus returned. She pulled my panties from my mouth and held the sopping wet mess of fabric in front of my face. I had bitten down so hard at some points that I had literally munched holes into my panties. I laughed dryly as she leaned up to remove my cuffs and I tried my hardest not to just pass out from exhaustion right there.

The First Time Ivy Tried Knifeplay, Part 2

(part 1 can be found here)

“Oh, God, Ivy. I told you not to open your eyes.”

It was too late. It was this massive, cold, harsh serrated blade, something a little less menacing than a meat cleaver. She held in in her fist like she was in some kind of slasher movie with how my t-shirt had been destroyed. I swallowed dry air and shuddered.

I have to say I was mildly surprised to notice the wetness that had puddled beneath me. I bit down hard on my lower lip for a moment, gazing up at my girlfriend who was still holding the knife as if waiting for me to give her some sort of approval or to just freak out over the size of the thing.

I cleared my throat before finally saying, “I trust you.”

“Good,” she gave me a little smirk, “because now the real fun can start.” She set the knife down on my chest, the blade pointed straight at my throat. As long as I didn’t heave or start hyperventilating, I would be fine. “Hold that for me, would you?”

She chuckled as she walked over to her closet and looked through it for a moment before coming back with a winter scarf. She tucked the knife into the strap of my panties before starting to wind the scarf over my eyes. It was a bit scratchy, but it certainly served its purpose.

And suddenly I was in the dark again. The inescapable, unrelenting dark. She dragged the knife out from its spot in the strap of my panties, cutting the strap as she pulled. She started her rounds again of bringing the blade over my body, down my stomach, and up the sides of my neck. I quivered as she played it over my breasts through the holes in the shirt.

She brought the knife back down and sliced the other strap on my panties. I heard her set it down on the bedside table and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“I don’t know what you’re so happy about,” she began as she slowly eased the front of my panties down, exposing my pussy. They were nearly stuck to it with my wetness. “You’ve gotten yourself all over my sheets."

A flush burned in my cheeks. "I’m…I’m very sorry, Miss,” I whispered as she gathered my panties up in her fist, their removal expedited by the fact that she had cut the straps. Her fist remained down between my legs, my panties soaking up even more of my wetness.

“No, dear,” she began as she raised her hand to push my panties into my mouth, “you don’t even know what sorry means yet."

The First Time Ivy Tried Knifeplay, Part 1

It was with a girlfriend. Initially, I was terrified of the concept and I dwelled on the idea that she would slip and I would wind up maimed and in the emergency room and my medical report would say I was in some kind of freaky sex accident and I really just couldn’t handle something like that. But, I had agreed earlier that day that I was opening to at least giving it a try. If I got too nervous, I had a safeword to fall back on.

That evening, as she finished getting ready for bed, I wandered around her bedroom in this old t-shirt from an event I went to and a pair of plain white cotton panties. She turned and looked me over for a moment before saying, “lie down.”

I laid down on top of the sheets, looking up at her expectantly. She smiled in this smug little cat-that-caught-the-canary way that she usually did when we were about to get into something sexy. She opened her drawer, pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and bent over me to slide them through a bar on the headboard before cuffing me to it. “Close your eyes."

The chuckle I let out was mostly nervous. There’s something absolutely torturous of having to close your eyes instead of being blindfolded. The option is right there and totally available for you to see what’s going on, but you want to keep your eyes closed, but the suspense is killing you, but…oh God.

I felt something cold drag across the exposed skin of my forearm. Somehow, in my panicking over keeping my eyes closed, she’d managed to sneak downstairs to the kitchen and get what I presumed to be a knife. It felt far too wide to be a butterknife, but I couldn’t really judge its size or much else about it.

I sucked in a breath as she went over my arms, my legs, teasing my body with the terribly cold blade. The harder I tried at holding myself still, the more I trembled. She moved her free hand over my t-shirt, gathering up some of it before I heard her sawing away at the fabric in various spots.

When she released the shirt, I judged by the rushes of cold air that she’d sliced over my breasts and my stomach. As she reached down and tore the cut over one of my breasts to be larger, I struggled with the enormous task of simply keeping my eyes closed. I had to see it. I couldn’t just keep them shut. I knew it was right there and I just had to know what she was working with.

And, so, I opened my eyes…