Spirits of the edge, Knife play

The quiet scream of steel on steel, the whispered inhalation of breath as the words sternly spoken within your ear: “Don’t Move!” The sound of threads releasing their grip to each other as the blade slides down the dress to reveal more things to shred below. The feel of 36 inches of cold steel as it caresses your upper inner thigh, slicing away the pantyhose from your skin. The brutal and violent snick, slash, slice as your clothes are removed from your body in a wanton, impassioned, display of disregard for your own sensibilities, just the emotionally charged need to remove them from the prize.

If these stir the blood and heat the spirit then come and learn about the power of sharpened steel, and learn how it cuts far deeper than the flesh, or the mind, it cuts deep within the core of who we are. And when the blade is wet, it glides like an angel of fear.