Tipping Point

---- explicit sexual situation; may be disturbing for some readers ----


Sir has tasked me with creating a series of stories/scenarios about sexual situations. Some will be drawn from past events, some will be things i'd like to have happen, and some will be pure fiction, spun from my imagination and best left there. LOL.


I am late coming home today; things at work went pear-shaped this afternoon and I had to stay well past my usual quitting time to work it out. But at last, things are under control, and I pull into the driveway and make my way to the door. I step inside, grateful to be home, and kick my shoes off to pad in my stocking feet to the kitchen. All I want right now is a nice big glass of wine, and then, a long soak in my tub. Bliss.

I turn the corner into the kitchen and before I can blink, I'm slammed into the wall. I don't even have time to scream before a hand clamps over my mouth and a tall body presses me into the wall. I am freaking out, hyperventilating through my nose, bucking and twisting and trying to duck and kicking back with my foot - anything I can do to get away from whoever is holding me. My mind is racing; no one is supposed to be here! How did they even get in? And most importantly - how the hell am I going to get out of this??   

A hand comes around and spans my throat, closing off my air and making me panic. I fight to draw air, but I'm not strong enough, and my struggles fade as I black out.

I have no idea where I am or what time it is when I come to, but I am lying on a soft surface, most likely a bed. I've been blindfolded, though as far as I can tell, I'm not in any pain. But honestly, I'm so wired with adrenaline right now that I don't really know for sure. My hands are bound and stretched above my head; there's very little give when I tug on my bonds. I try to roll over, and that's when I realize my feet are bound, too, my legs held open by ropes or ties around my ankles and pulling toward the corners of the bed. Fuck!! What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Then I hear footsteps coming toward me. Shit!! I am frightened out of my mind, too scared to scream, my mouth too dry to swallow properly. I freeze, listening intently, trying to gauge how far away this person is, and if there's only one of them. Damn, damn, damn! This, I think in my panic, is just like one of those stupid movies, the ones where I always yell at the TV screen for the victim to fight. Now I realize that sometimes, you just can't. And I am nearly paralyzed.

The intruder steps into the room then, and I hear myself panting, great big harsh breaths, as I wait and wait and wait. Finally, the edge of the bed dips down, as the person sits on the edge of the mattress. Only one. Well, so far. And then, something sharp touches my side. With a start, I realize that I have no clothes on! How the hell did I miss that before??

I try to scoot away, but bound as I am, about all I accomplish is a slight wriggle to the side. That isn't going to help me. Then the sharp thing touches me again, and I recognize the tip of a knife. At least, that's what I imagine it to be. It's cold, like metal, and small, but very sharp. I don't think I've been cut at all, just lightly poked, but still - I am not having fun here. The knife - I call it that in  my head, as I can't think of what else it could be - moves down my side, leaving a trail of mild stinging pokes in its wake. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but I can't say as it's my favorite kind of sensation.

The knife then changes direction and moves up over my stomach, and I grow very still as it nears my chest. Oh my God, what the hell is this nutjob going to do to me? All the horror-movie scenarios in my head threaten to send me into a full-blown panic attack, when I realize the knife tip is circling my breasts, slowly, carefully, moving in to prick at my nipple. Again, it doesn't hurt, not really, but in my fear, I am hyper-sensitive, and I gasp aloud. The knife halts, then starts moving again, and the tip moves and pricks the other nipple. I gasp again, as it's a very small, quick, tiny poke, but in such a delicate area, it feels huge.

The knife moves back down over my stomach, but it feels different. I think the person wielding the knife has flipped it over, so that the flat edge of the knife is pressing against my skin. Weirdly, that make me relax. I can't be cut with the flat side. But the knife doesn't stop moving, and as it nears my groin, I start to panic again. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God ..... And then I can breathe again, as it bypasses my pussy and moves down the inside of my thigh. And then - oh, how cruel!! - the knife gets flipped over, and I feel it cut me, a super-quick, shallow cut, but it's a cut nonetheless, and I flinch, say "Ow!" and try again, futilely, to move away. If this person has cut me once he (I feel sure it's a he) will have no hesitance about cutting me again, and I really really don't want this to continue. 

And then I swear my heart stops in my chest, as he leans over and fastens his mouth over the tiny cut he has made in my leg. I feel his lips moving against my skin, his tongue lapping over the cut, and in an odd, completely mental way, it's soothing. And then there's a sharp quick sting, and another flinch and cry of "Ow!" as he places another cut on my leg, this one a bit higher up, and again, he suckles it, lapping his tongue over it. And I, to my horror and embarrassment, find myself becoming turned on. A third tiny cut, another flinch, but my cry is less an "Ow!" and more of an "Aah." And when he closes his lips over my skin this time, I actually hum in my throat. I must be insane. I must be.

But the fourth time, I actually try to push up into his mouth, and my fate is sealed. His teeth nip at me, and I swallow a tiny moan. He leans over and works on my other leg, starting near my knee and working up, and up, four, no, five tiny slices with the knife, all of them followed by his mouth and lips and tongue. I'm wet, now, really wet, I can feel it. He switches back to the first leg and makes another little cut up high, dangerously close to my pussy, and I tense up, then relax when his tongues swipes over the cut. and then, oh, hallelujah, glorious sweet jesus, his lips fasten over my clit and he suckles me, and I'm bucking up and grinding into his mouth, pulling at my bonds, bruising my wrists and trying to free my ankles so that I can open my legs further. 

His hand slides down my leg and fumbles with the rope on my ankle, and somehow he manages to undo the knot, and my leg is free. I moan out loud and bend my knee, easing the ache in my hip, then open my leg wide, allowing him deeper access to my dripping cunt. I want him to bury his face in my pussy, to tongue-fuck me, to make me cum over his tongue. I plant my foot on the bed and buck up into his mouth, and then as he's eating me, I feel the tip of the knife cut my hip. It's a harsher cut this time, I can tell, but i'm in such a frenzy from his mouth on my pussy that I don't care. The knife pokes the underside of my thigh this time, a sharp sting, and I shudder and scream and cum, my hips rising off the bed as I flood his mouth. 

When i relax, my arms and shoulders are aching fiercely from the strain I put on them by pulling so hard on my bonds. My heart is thundering in my chest, and I am panting harshly. Worse, I have no idea where he has gone ..... 

Then a voice sounds in my ear, and I jump.

"Good girl, Kitten," He says. "You did well."

He removes my blindfold and I blink in the too-bright room. My Sir is leaning over me, the blindfold in His hand. Glancing down, I can see faint red trails on my torso, and by lifting my free leg, I can see four or five small red lines marred by a few little drops of blood. Now that I am coming off my high, I can feel all those little cuts as they begin to throb and sting and smart. When I meet Sir's eyes, He looks pleased, and I say, "Thank you, Sir. Thank you."