Oh My Stars

I used to have a dom who said "Oh my stars" instead of "Oh my God" it was rather endearing. For some reason that just popped into my head, this is completely unrelated. but Valinor if you are reading maybe I made you chuckle your great laugh, or at least smile!

So stars.

The evening started off as many play parties do. Me, smoking hot in a great outfit. Hair and makeup done beautifully. My lover on one side a cherished playmate on the other. Mingling among the guests and greeting the host and hostess. I had made plans to top later but other than that my night was fairly open.

Normal so far.

The host informed me that he had the evening free and was available for play. A scene popped into my mind.

Now I have been slowly over the last year been popping my own "cherries" by doing things that I consider to be edge play. Others I am sure would think my play is rather tame in comparison but you must keep in mind that up until very recently my hard limits have included... Nothing that breaks skin, no permanent marks, no blood play, no needles and no knives.

I have had broken skin many times although it was always accidental. I have had myself branded three times now with temporary brands, and they have not completely faded. I have had a hypodermic needle inserted in the skin of my arm. I have had a few knife scenes.

I spoke to the host in an excited tone and told him what I had hoped to do but that I had no stencil. He was quick to allow me to surf the net and find it.

I made a few quick modifications, traced it onto tracing paper carefully, and took a deep breath.

He smiled when he saw how intricate the design was. We discussed placement.

I stripped off my bra and dress. Commenting how I was breaking a hard limit and if I chickened out not to be surprised. He just smiled and nodded.

Hopped up on the table in front of a crowded room. He placed the stencil on my chest. We made certain it was positioned correctly, he pressed it into my skin so it would transfer. He grabbed a felt and connected the dots as the transfer wasn't the greatest. I examined it in a mirror and gave my ok. He unwrapped a disposable scalpel and poised it just above my skin.

"Now you will feel the edge of the blade against your skin" I whimpered at the first touch of cold steel.

"And the first cut" I gasped and held my breath as the sharp steel pressed into my skin. Oh sweet glorious pain blossoming! My entire body came alive in that blissful moment. Sparkles start in the edge of my vision and the endorphins start flowing.

The scent and taste of blood flood into my nostrils and mouth. Intoxicated at this first splash, the urge to scoop the drizzle of blood into my mouth is nearly overpowering me. I imagine my tongue coated thick with it and feel faint, a buzzing in my ears.

He continues to talk as he cuts, a line here, a swirl there. I am gasping, whimpering and moaning. Humping at air and giggling. Arousal is flooding over and around me. My scent is driving me nearly insane with primal lust.

I ask for a break about a third of the way through and he obliges. I am offered water and decline. Preferring to lay there, squirming in delight and squeezing my legs tight. Oh how I long to suck at the cuts he has made. My sex is swollen and soaked with my juices. I feel myself near orgasm and ask him to continue.

His next cut has me cumming and laughing. I can't speak anymore. I am murmuring and floating. I know there are people around me, I have no idea what is going on anymore. My eyelids are fluttering and eyes are rolling. My hips move of their own accord and I am loathe to hold still. My nipples are erect and I am gripping a hand tightly.

Pain is my lover and I embrace Her wholeheartedly. Her sweet voice is causing me to writhe slightly under the cutters hands. Sweet tendrils of agony as he carves my skin into the design I created. Bright red blood is dripping down my shoulder, smearing into the white hot swirls of pain. My Goddess is with me.

He comments that he only has a few more lines causing me to beg... "Go slow, please."

I hear laughter around me, and I am reminded there are people watching. His last cuts are much slower, languid even, I am orgasming in the blissful, bright, sting of the last swirl.

Now he is spraying alcohol into the lacerations and blotting with a paper towel. I am moaning and giggling at the bittersweet tingling of salt in a wound. I am near orgasm again and as he seizes the paper towel and begins rubbing vigorously, scrubbing at the fresh cuts I cum a third time.

There is blood everywhere and they are taking photos. He holds up a paper towel with a near perfect smear of my blood in a beautiful mural. Delight as he suggests I frame it and I immediately agree! He sets it aside and tells me it is time for a few touch ups.

I shudder and take a deep breath. His blade descends in his final strokes. Red wings beat in time with my fluttering heart..

It is over.

I lay there, drifting, mindless.. momentarily stunned.

A mirror is held up so I can see the art he has painstakingly carved into my chest. I smile, ecstasy is making the world very golden, with bright red blood splatters.

This is a photo of my shoulder this morning.

It bled all through the night, all over my sheets and pillowcase. Good thing I know how to get bloodstains out.

I will be framing the paper towel and putting it near the front door of my house. It is a nice compliment to the BDSM KINK flag that I have not so discreetly placed there.

I want more now.

Craving blood.. yum..