Playing with Scissors
It’s your first evening together and it’s been wonderful so far. He’s more handsome than his profile picture, well-dressed, very polite, attentive and a good conversationalist, which you enjoyed as much during dinner as the meal, and now you’re back at his place and you see a gift-wrapped box tied with a bow on the coffee table in the living room. He hands it to you and you carefully unwrap it and see that it’s a La Perla box and, opening it, that he’s bought you beautiful silk lingerie, not red, as most men would, but light blue. It’s a turn on. He asks you to put it on while he makes you both a drink and you walk to the bedroom and do. You stand in front of the full-length closet mirror admiring yourself and know this is all he wants you to be wearing when you return and you like that. It’ a playfully naughty idea. You find him standing holding the drinks next to a chair he’s placed in the middle of the living room. It strikes you as curious until you notice the lengths of red velvet ribbon he’s placed on the coffee table. He smiles and looks you up and down and tells you that you look very sexy. You know you do and feel very sexy, too, but also uncertain and cautious about what’s going to happen next. He hands you your drink and you both sip, looking at each other’s eyes over the rims of your glasses. He takes your glass and puts it and his on the coffee table and guides you to the chair and sits you down. You’re nervous and a little apprehensive, but you said in your profile that you were adventurous and open to exploring new things, anything, really, and feel a little foolish about the idea of being timid now. As reluctant as you are, you place your hands behind the chair and watch him pick up the lengths of ribbon from the coffee table and walk behind you. You feel the ribbon being wrapped around your wrists, not too tightly, just tightly enough, and then tied to the chair. You watch him kneel in front of you place your feet against the legs of the chair. You feel him wrap first one ankle just tightly enough and then secure it to the chair leg and then the other. You take a deep breath and hold it. You’re vulnerable. At this point, anything could happen and you’d be powerless to prevent it. He seems like a very nice man, but who knows what other sides there might be to his personality. For all you know he’s a misogynist, a r****t or worse. The thought crosses your mind that you might never leave his apartment alive. You try to f***e the thought from your mind as he stands and walks behind you. You feel him move your hair aside and then his kisses behind your ear and then on your neck, working his way down. You feel something sharp touch the skin of your neck and a jolt. Is it a knife? Is he going to slit your throat? Whatever it is, you feel it moving down your neck toward your chest and you see it’s a pair of very long and sharp-looking scissors. You watch the closed blades move toward your right breast and their tips disappear under the bra, continuing toward your nipple. Both of your nipples are hard now and you feel the tips of the blades comes to rest against your right nipple and press, harder, harder still until you squirm and don’t think you can take it anymore. He removes the scissors from under the bra and reaches around with his other hand and gathers up the material covering your nipple and cuts a hole in the bra and does the same to the other side. You look down at your nipples and know he’s admiring them. You are, too, They look pretty hot, so rosy and erect. You watch the blades open and see them placed on either side of your right nipple and there’s the uncomfortable feeling again that if he wanted to hurt you, really hurt you he could and you’re powerless to stop him. You see the blades close and feel their sharp edges against the sides of your nipple, tighter, tighter still. It’s increasingly painful and you half-expect to see bl**d begin oozing from your nipple, but you see the blades open and the scissors taken away. You watch as he walks around in front of you and places the scissors on the coffee table and picks something up and kneels in front of you. You see it’s a screw clamp. You hadn’t noticed it before. He smiles and places it on your right nipple and begins tightening it and asks you to tell him when to stop. You still feel the sharp pain from the point of the scissors and, as he continues tightening the clamp, it’s replaced by a different pain, a dull pain that grows increasingly more intense as the clamp squeezes your nipple. You watch it flatten and elongate almost impossibly. You didn’t think you could bear this much pain, but you do until you’re certain the clamp is about to tear your flesh and tell him to stop. He does and nods and takes the other clamp you didn’t notice from the coffee table and places it on your left breast and tightens it until you tell him to stop. You look at your nipples, flattened and elongated by the clamps, and realize you enjoy the way they look and the pain and that both are turning you on and you feel moist between your legs and squirm. You see him notice and smile and watch him reach back and pick up the scissors and place the point between your legs and stroke you with it. You can see he can see this is turning you on even more. You watch him pull the fabric in the crotch area away from your skin and cut it off. You thrill, but at the same time have the unsettling feeling again that things could go wrong at any moment. After all, you’re bound and there’s a man, when all is said and done a stranger, kneeling in front of you with very sharp scissors in his hand. You try to imagine how it would feel if he suddenly jammed it into you. You hope that all you’d experience would be a blinding white flash in your head and then you’d be dead. You watch the point moving toward your opening and feel it pressing gently against it and know its going to enter you and close your eyes. If you felt vulnerable before, you feel completely at his mercy know. It’s an entirely different feeling. You feel him spreading your lips with his fingers and working the point slowly and carefully inside you and then your muscles involuntarily contracting, opening you up to give the point as much room as possible. You feel the point moving deeper inside against the top of your vagina, deeper, deeper still and you know, without knowing how or why, that it’s seeking that place you thought only you knew, that place you stimulate when you want to come vaginally, which you seldom do, but always enjoy. You feel the point come to rest against it and the blades opening and you’re sure you’re going to be injured, but the blades begin moving slowly and gently back and forth and you tip your pelvis upward to give them better access and you picture the way you look, an a****l in heat inviting the blades of a pair of scissors to have their way with you and you ride them until your thrusting against the points and hope you’re not injuring yourself, although you no longer really care. You’re willing to die for it now. You open your eyes a bit and see him smiling at you and you know by his expression he’s been one step ahead of you all the time. You wake and glance at the alarm clock. It’s the middle of the night. You realize you’ve been dreaming and that you’ve enjoyed it and want to remember it, but know from experience that you have to try hard now, otherwise it’ll escape you. It’s flitting away like a fish in the shallows, but you grab its tail and pull it back. The scissors are the first thing you remember and then being tied up and then the rest of the dream fills in. It’s wonderful and you wish it had really happened, but now you’re left filled with pent up desire and sexual energy and you know the only way you’re going to get back to sl**p is to take care of yourself and you do, the same way the blades did. Did he have a name? It’s not important.