Warning: This post is not for the faint of heart as it contains cutting and blood. If you can’t stomach such a topic, please do not read. You have been warned. To my regular readers, I will be back to the normal filth as soon as I can. Bear with me.
1. The surgical removal of some of a patient’s blood for therapeutic purposes.
My inner forearm was exposed to the heavens and I stared at the blue median ante-brachial vein that runs beneath my milky skin. In my right hand I held a razor poised for it’s purpose but I was studying my skin looking for faint scars and marks. This arm was almost bare except for an old scar that I can’t recall its birth. There isn’t hesitation from fear, it’s more of a longing; I don’t want to be the one responsible for this cut but I have no choice.
There are times when thoughts fester inside my skin so much that I need to get them out for a physical, spiritual and emotional release. I want to rip at my skin and let all the darkness drain out. The rage builds like an animal wanting prey; my eyes dart about watching flesh innocently walk by and I stare at my own longer than I should. The build up is painful and the longer I wait to free myself of this accumulation:
The more I drown myself in my own gloom
The more I withdrawal
The more I am lost inside my own head.
The razor was touching my skin and there was a rush of adrenaline. I could feel the point pushed against my epidermal barrier. I watched as it slid right above the blue vein, sliced the cellular bond that is my skin. The pain was a biting burn and it took all my efforts not to just push down harder to feel it more. I gritted my teeth as rage and anger surfaced. There was a throbbing between my legs and it turned into a longing pain deep inside my cunt. The pink to red blood seeped from its confines in a thin line as the oxygen hit. I let out a gasp when I pulled the razor from my arm and placed it on the counter. I watched gravity pull the blood from the wound, it was a race to pool at the lowest point and then fall to the white tiled flood. The inner frustration subsided and a strange calm washed over my face.
I stepped in the tub filled with water, sat carefully and lowered my left arm into the water. As my limb submerged into the warm fluid, the wound stung. Blood and water don’t mix easily. The blood swirled in long, thick strands in the water; eventually it bonded and colored the water a faint pink.
My eyes closed and my cunt begged for attention. My right hand lazily traveled between my parted thighs. I could feel the thick wetness as my fingers probed between the lips. My clit was hard as I rubbed slowly. I was not in a hurry and I wanted to savor this moment. I let out a sigh and when I peeked through my closed lids, saw the pink water and climbed to an orgasm. My eyes closed tight, my head pushed back and I sucked in a breath of air as my body tensed into an explosion. My back arched as my body went into a spasm splashing water out of the tub. My right hand gripped the edge of the tub, I felt I was floating and drowning at the same time.
My eyes opened, saw the bath water mixed with the bloodstained tile, moved to the white knuckles of my right hand, my white flesh beneath the pink surface and to the pink line in my left arm. I noticed my heart pounding in my chest and my breathing coming back to normal.
I felt human again but how long will it last?
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