The Tip Of His Knife Says “Hold Still”
I’m just not into knife play. Searching tells me there are only a few references to it in all the years (fourteen now!) of ErosBlog archives, and one of those few is cautionary.
Not only don’t I like knife play because the frisson of blood and potential death the knife symbolizes and eroticizes for many people just leaves me cold, I also do not like it because there’s a sort of side-pool of knife enthusiasts for whom the knife is a symbol of their enthusiastic disregard of consent. These are the people who, at least in my imagination, can utter the phrase “cut a bitch” without irony, and whose Tumblrs seem to get deleted every few weeks for seriously over-the-top violent expressions of misogyny. I don’t want to encourage those people, nor to be mistaken for one of them.
Nope, I’m just not that into knife play.
However…
It turns out that there’s a tiny chink in my erotic armor where blades are concerned. The chink (microfetish?) involves using knives as sexual tools. Probably the most well-known example I can think of are those two scenes with the Captain’s dagger hilt, from Beauty’s Punishment by Anne Rice:
He held something dazzling and beautiful in the light before her, and she blinked to see it. It was the handle of his dagger, thick, encrusted with gold and emeralds and rubies.
It disappeared and quite suddenly she felt the cold metal against her wet vagina. “Ooooooh, yes…” she moaned and felt the handle slide in, a thousand times harder and crueler than the largest organ, it seemed, as it lifted her, crushing against her smoldering clitoris.
She almost screamed with desire, her head falling back, her eyes blind except for the Captain’s eyes looking down at her. Her hips undulated wildly against his lap, the dagger handle going back and forth, back and forth, until she could not endure it and the ecstasy came again paralyzing her and silencing her open mouth, the vision of the Captain vanishing in a moment of total deliverance.
And:
But something touched her pulsing clitoris, scraped it through the thick film of wetness. It plunged through her starved pubic lips. It was the rough, jeweled handle of the dagger again … surely it was … and it impaled her.
She came in a riot of soft muffled cries, pumping her hips up and up, all sight and sound and scent of the Inn dissolved in her frenzy. The dagger handle held her, the hilt pounding her pubis, not letting the orgasm stop, forcing cry after cry out of her.
Even as she was laid down on her back on the table, it tormented her, making her squirm and twist her hips. In a blur she saw the Captain’s face above her. And she writhed like a cat as the dagger handle rocked her up and down, her hips spanking the table.
A pedant might argue “That’s not really using the blade as a sexual tool; the dagger hilt’s just a fancy dildo with a knife on the other end.” Yeah, dude, whatever, you get back to me with that argument after it’s been up your hole. But sure, I get what you’re saying.
You want a better example? I have a better example. This is from the Heavy Metal update (November 4, 2016) at Internal Restraints, starring Raquel Roper:
At least in my imagination, there’s nothing menacing about this knife. He’s not threatening to stab her, she’s not at risk of losing any body parts, there will not be blood tonight. However, he is about to use the knife to cut off her panties, which he has judged to be in excess of her immediate clothing needs. It’s a completely utilitarian act. Fuckin’ panties got to go. But she’s wiggling, the knife is sharp, tender bits are tender, we don’t want any accidents, we have big plans for those tender bits. All observers agree: the lady wants to be holding still for a moment. And so she feels right now the tiniest prick at her tender skin with the tip of the knife, a little touch that she can’t ignore, one that says “hold your horses, girl, calm down, you want to stop moving at this time, a sharp knife is on the field and in motion.” It’s a twofer; it’s knife-as-panty-remover and knife-as-safety-signal.
Other people may see it differently. But that’s how this picture grabbed me.
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