Knife Work
Get Cooked. Femdom Erotica. Episode X32
He is naked, barefoot and in her kitchen.
He is holding a knife.
He has been living with her. The newness of it is still fresh in his mind, although he has been here long enough to know what’s in all the drawers and cupboards.
He is learning to cook.
She is teaching him. She has parceled out cooking into simple tasks and now is giving them to him one at a time. As he performs each task, she traipses in and out of the room, offering guidance or correction. He knows eventually she’ll assert more control as the components he is preparing come together, but right now he’s learning to drive nails and not design skyscrapers.
Actually, right now, he is learning how to chop carrots. After carrots will come celery.
He hears her behind him.
He feels her hand on the small of his back and instinctively curls it to offer her his ass.
“Keep chopping.”
She spreads his cheeks, and he feels something on her fingers that is cold and wet and slick. Then he feels pressure against his anus.
His breath catches in his throat as she slides something inside him. He’s afraid the plug will be big, however it turns out to be quite manageable.
But he has stopped cooking.
She roughly grabs him by the throat.
“Keep chopping.” Her voice is stern and cruel.
He continues to cut with the sharp blade. A high end, hot drop forged Henkel that she keeps sharp enough to split hairs.
She kisses his neck, and he sucks a breath. And then she speaks.
“I have a theory about you. You go under so hard for knifeplay, your fear response is so powerful… I think you may even react that way when you are holding the knife. You’ll be so afraid of cutting yourself.”
His pulse quickens, instantly aware of the razor edge passing within millimeters of his fingertips.
“After all,” she continues, “you don’t get vertigo standing on the edge of a cliff because you’re afraid you’ll fall. You get it because you’re afraid you’ll jump.”
She nibbles his ear and runs her hands up and down his body, and he wants to roll his head back and moan from the pleasure of it. He wants to give in to her touch and wallow in her control. But the knife is moving, he must keep the knife moving.
“Good, keep cutting.”
He feels her hands lift off of him. They are moving something behind his back.
There is a click, and the plug in his ass begins to vibrate. Pleasure courses through him.
He gasps from it, and the flat of the blade brushes against the tip of his ring finger.
He spasms reflexively in fear.
She giggles.
She places the remote for the vibrating plug on the counter next to him.
“Keep the remote control with you until I remove the plug, but you are not allowed to change the speed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Keep cutting.”
She returns to touching him. The buzz of the vibrator pulses from within his loins, surging into his stiffening cock.
The knife becomes increasingly heavy in his hands. He has to try harder and harder to control it, to focus on the strokes of the blade.
Her hands reach around and begin to stroke his erection. She squeezes hard and pumps slowly.
He moans.
The knife is so close to cutting him. He can see it in his mind, the tempered, sharpened edge caressing the curve of his thumb, and then opening it up so his steaming red blood throbs out onto the cutting board. He can see this image of fear.
She strokes faster, and his moan becomes colored with need, with craving.
And then she steps away and her hands fly off his body. The buzz in his ass is now just enough to tease him. He whimpers from his desire.
She grins, and turns to go, casually saying, “That’s enough carrots. Move on to the celery.”