Wings of Completion
First off, lets start with saying I have been a self harmer since I was nine years old, cutting to me has always been a way of making my body mine. No matter what was going on beyond my control, I was still in charge of my body, my pain, my blood and ultimately my life, though my self harming was never about suicide, as with most self harmers.
My whole arms are littered with scars; some have such deep meanings for me that I would never wish them away. My husband was also a self harmer so the act of cutting to both of us was a spiritual event, with deeper meaning than the simple act of making yourself bleed.
We then somehow ended up talking about cutting and blood play during sex, messed about with some minor cuts on arms or shoulders and it was a lot of fun. He then asked me if I wanted him to take it further, to cut a design as part of our play. He cut a small ideogram of an alchemic symbol meaning the letter C, the first letter of my name, on my shoulder.
For a long time we did nothing more, I have over come my self harming, well mostly, and so has he, but our flat is never without fresh razor blades.
He asked if I wanted to play, he did a few plain cuts on my shoulder, biting me, messing about with the blood. Then he asked me to sit up in front of him on the bed and he told me he was going to cut a larger design for me if I wanted him to. I said he could. I was fresh out of the bath, so my skin was clean, we didn't interrupt our play to go get anything like disinfectant... maybe this should be recommended, but I don't think the smell of it is conducive to a sexual atmosphere.
Blood play is sexy, it turned us both on a lot, but having a design done, even the small ideogram went beyond a sexual feeling. The sense of release could be compared to the feeling after an orgasm, but combined with the wonderful feeling of aching 'pain'.
He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear that if I wanted him to stop I just had to say so. Then he cut a long curved line from my shoulder to the middle of my lower back, then another the other way. He didn't tell me what he was cutting, but I'll say now, so you can understand what I am describing, he was cutting me a set of wings. I was his blood angel. He cut the downward strokes of the tops of the wings. Then he lent in and held me close to ask if I was okay. The feel of the blood between my bare back and his bare chest was so warm and I started feeling as if I was going to cry, not through pain, but the overwhelming feelings.
He then moved on to cutting the insides of the wings, under the basic outlines he had already done. Big long strokes, covering my shoulder blades and down nearly to my waist. Of course there was pain, but I felt like I was detached from the pain, feeling it second hand, being able to appreciate the feeling of the start of the cut, the clean dragging of the stroke and the release when the cut was over, the seconds you knew passed before the blood welled up and spilled. And the feeling of a trail of blood slipping down your skin is... well, indescribable.
Then between the wings he cut a creature he had seen in a dream, like a dragonfly, but with six wings, lots of small intricate cuts, it was so beautiful.
When we where done, I stood in the bath and used some disinfectant to wash them all clean to prevent infection, and I love the way blood looks on the white of a bath, washing away! Worked well, I only ended up with one deeper cut getting infected, which was soon fixed with getting off the scab and using a thick healing cream.
Getting my back cut, it hurting was a wonderful experience for me. Every other part of my body has been hurt by somebody else, from the back of my head, or my lips, right down to my ankles, but my back was never hurt by anybody, no scars at all, mental or physical. So to be given beautiful huge scars by the man who saved my life and I love beyond anything was such an overpowering and inspiring thing.
I was scarred in a good way for the first time, instead of being scarred to take away inner pain, I had been cut to give inner pleasure and the scars to remind me of good things not bad.
My wings are beautiful, my body is now scarred all over, but the ones that gave me completion where scars I wanted. I'm finished.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 24 Nov. 2004