ceciliatan (ceciliatan) wrote in torquere_social,

Exclusive erotic ficlet!

OK, so the kink mentioned most often in replies to my introduction post was knife play. But I realized that if I post the knife play scene in Royal Treatment, I'll be posting way too many spoilers about what happens in the book.

So I wrote this little knife play scene, starring Arshan, just for you all.

I See Your Point
by Cecilia Tan
an Arshan ficlet

One of the worlds in the empire is Chidras, and tales of their ancient warriors, who were masters of the sword, knife, and dagger, were very popular when I was an impressionable boy.

I was no longer a boy, though, when my tutor Mirelle blindfolded me and told me to keep my hands behind my back. "Reach out accidentally, Arshan," she admonished gently, "and you might get hurt."

And then I heard the sound I knew from watching all those dramas set in Ancient Chidras, the telltale hiss of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

By the sound it was very long, and very sharp. I tried to hold perfectly still, kneeling as I was with my legs open and my hands pressed into the small of my back. I could feel she was standing quite close to me.

The next thing I felt was something just barely touching my balls and I tried to hold my breath to keep still, but when I did that, she kissed me.

The point of something as sharp as a needle dragged a scratch up the inside of one of my thighs. I shivered; the sensation was terrifying in a way, but I could not deny that it sent the blood pounding to my cock. I tried to imagine the knife. How big was it? What did it look like? Was it sharp along both edges, or only one?

She took hold of my cock then, not in a particularly arousing way, more to hold it in place as she scraped the knife under my balls. I was young enough then that there was little hair to shave, but what she was doing was not lost on me. Mirelle's every touch was erotic to me, even when she did not intend. My cock pulsed in her grip.

Then she ran a the needle-sharp point up my cock, and I wondered if it left a scratched welt. "You must be careful, Arshan," she said, "when you use the knife on others. Especially here." She pumped her hand once up and down my shaft and I held in a moan. She was giving advice but her voice was low, seductive. "Any small nick or cut on the erect penis can have disastrous results. All that blood, under such high pressure... unless your intent is to paint the walls and ceiling with blood, I would suggest you not let the blade bite."

Then she moved behind me, pushing my head forward. "Your back, on the other hand, looks beautiful when blood drips down it. Especially in the shape of my name."

She began to write across the backs of my shoulders and the knife tip burned in a way that the tail of a whip didn't. I shivered but tried very hard to stay still for her.

"Arshan," she said, her voice quite serious now, rather than teasing.

"Yes, my lady?" I asked.

"I forget sometimes how young and impressionable you are," she said and I could hear the frown in her voice. I could no longer feel the knife and its absence felt more like punishment than its application.

"Have I done something wrong?"

She clucked her tongue. "You were just allowing me to carve my name into your skin."

"Um, well..." I was still blindfolded and on my knees, but I turned my face toward her. "I figured if you left scars I could have them removed later if I wanted."

"But you'd let me put them there in the first place."

"Well, yes. You're very persuasive."

"Tcha. Your father won't thank me if I fail to teach you to protect yourself. Tell me the truth, did you think about what I was doing at the time? Or did you just think up that bit about having the scars fixed later just now?"

I swallowed as I felt the tip of the knife under my chin. "I know you would never do anything to me that would truly damage me, my lady."

Her voice was barely a whisper in my ear. "If you know that, why do you tremble when the knife presses against your pulse?"

"I... I don't know."

"Your rational mind trusts my rational mind, Arshan, but when passion rules... the rational mind sometimes surrenders."

She drew the point downward, leaving a long scratch down my throat and chest, as I answered, "I... I see your point, my lady."

She sheathed the knife then and straddled me, enveloping me in her body's heat and need. I never did lay eyes on that blade as far as I know.


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