A Blade Between Us: A Lesbian D/s Knife Play Story

28 Dec

The room was bathed in warm, golden light, the faint hum of ambient music curling through the air like a whispered promise. Lou’s eyes, sharp as the blade in her hand, stayed locked on Ivy, who stood barefoot on the rug, her breath already shallow with anticipation. This was their ritual—their shared exploration of trust and fire—and tonight, it thrummed with an electric edge.

In Lou’s hand was her favourite knife: a sleek, hand-forged Damascus steel blade with a delicately curved edge. Its intricate wavy patterns told a story of craftsmanship and strength. She had chosen it for its balance—both in weight and symbolism. The knife’s sharpness was matched only by the precision it demanded, making it perfect for their play. Lou ran her thumb along its spine, feeling the cold steel, a quiet ritual of respect before she turned her attention back to Ivy.

“Come here,” Lou murmured, her voice low but commanding. Ivy obeyed without hesitation, stepping into Lou’s space. Lou tilted her head, the faintest smirk playing on her lips as she hooked a finger beneath the delicate strap of Ivy’s tank top. “You’re so beautiful when you’re waiting for me.”

Ivy’s cheeks flushed, a shy smile teasing her lips, but she didn’t break the stillness. Her hands hung loose at her sides, her submission a quiet offering. Lou took her time, her free hand brushing Ivy’s cheek before trailing down to her collarbone. The cool touch of the steel blade followed, tracing the same path, slow and deliberate, sending shivers through Ivy’s body.

“How does that feel?” Lou asked, her voice softer now, a contrast to the sharpness of the blade.

“Perfect,” Ivy whispered, her body leaning into the sensations, trusting Lou completely.

They had prepared meticulously, as they always did. Lou had sterilised the knife with precision, ensuring the blade gleamed like a mirror. They had spoken earlier that evening, confirming limits and desires. Ivy had smiled as she outlined her boundaries, her trust in Lou absolute. They both knew the rules of their play—an unspoken contract they honoured every time.

Now, Lou’s hand pressed against Ivy’s lower back, guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to slice this,” Lou said, her fingers plucking at the hem of Ivy’s tank top. “Do you trust me?”

Ivy’s voice was steady. “Always.”

Lou’s blade moved with precision, the sound of fabric yielding under its edge slicing through the air. The tank top fell away in uneven strips, revealing Ivy’s bare skin. The contrast of the blade’s cool metal against the heat of Ivy’s body made her shiver, and Lou caught the moment with a grin, her own excitement crackling between them. Between movements, Lou leaned in to press a lingering kiss to Ivy’s shoulder, her lips warm against the trail of goosebumps left by the blade.

“You’re breathtaking,” Lou said, her voice rough with emotion. “Hold still for me.”

Ivy stilled, her breath coming in shallow waves. Lou traced the blade’s spine down Ivy’s arm, following the curve of muscle and vein. It was slow, deliberate—a blend of control and care that left Ivy trembling. Lou hovered the point of the knife just above Ivy’s skin, never pressing but letting her feel the potential of it. Then, with a gentleness that belied the intensity of their play, she kissed Ivy’s wrist, her lips brushing where the blade had hovered.

“If it’s too much, you’ll tell me,” Lou reminded her, meeting Ivy’s gaze with intensity.

“I’ll tell you,” Ivy replied, her voice unwavering.

Satisfied, Lou stepped back slightly to admire her work. Ivy’s chest rose and fell, her skin glowing under the soft light. With a flick of her wrist, Lou held the blade steady and moved to Ivy’s thigh, dragging the flat edge slowly along the tender inside. Ivy’s gasp was soft, almost imperceptible, but Lou caught it, her smile deepening. She bent to press a kiss just above Ivy’s knee, her lips grounding Ivy in the tenderness that balanced the sharpness of their play.

“Good girl,” Lou said, and Ivy’s eyes fluttered closed at the praise, her body responding instinctively to Lou’s touch.

The play continued with a fiery rhythm, Lou alternating between the blunt edge and the spine of the knife. She sliced through the waistband of Ivy’s leggings, peeling them away like layers of armour, leaving Ivy bare, vulnerable, and radiant. Ivy’s body was a canvas, and Lou’s movements were precise strokes of artistry—deliberate and unhurried. Between each deliberate action, Lou’s lips found Ivy’s skin, planting kisses along her collarbone, her shoulder, the delicate hollow of her neck.

Finally, Lou set the blade down on the table nearby, her fingers brushing over Ivy’s cheek. “You’re everything,” she whispered, the fierceness in her voice softening into tenderness. Ivy leaned into her touch, her body melting into the warmth and safety Lou always provided.

Ivy’s body melted into Lou’s touch as the aftercare began. Lou wrapped her in a soft, fleece blanket, pulling her close on the bed. She pressed kisses to Ivy’s temple and forehead, her hands tracing soothing circles along Ivy’s back. She whispered quiet affirmations, her voice a low murmur of devotion: “You were perfect… so brave… my good girl.”

Lou reached for the glass of water she had placed on the nightstand, holding it to Ivy’s lips. Ivy drank slowly, her body relaxing further as Lou adjusted the blanket around her. Lou then massaged Ivy’s shoulders, her fingers working gently to release the tension left from the intensity of their scene. She kissed Ivy’s knuckles, each touch grounding her further in the love and care they shared.

“How do you feel?” Lou asked, her voice gentle now, her hands never leaving Ivy’s skin.

“Loved,” Ivy murmured, her head resting against Lou’s chest. “Completely loved.”

Lou smiled, her arms tightening around Ivy. “Always,” she said, her voice fierce with devotion. For long minutes, they stayed entwined, Lou humming softly as Ivy rested, the quiet intimacy of aftercare wrapping them both in its embrace. And in that moment, as they held each other close, the intensity of their play faded into the quiet warmth of their bond, their love sharper and more enduring than any blade.

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