Blockade Runner Chameleons Plasma Rifles Book 1Chapter 8
- 3 years ago
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After last summer’s episode with a 5/8 in blade, I realized I could and needed to go much deeper. The question was how far? I looked at my body with a small, but variable layer of fat over my abdominal muscles and the thickness of those muscles. I wanted to get the blade just inside the abdominal cavity just to see if I could.
I have a knife with a five inch blade. It is a Gerber dagger with a very sharp double edge and not too wide. Even going 1.25 inches, it would cause a wound only .5 inches wide or so. I measured off 1.25 inches and put several layers of duct tape on the blade as a safety stop. This would absolutely guarantee that the blade would stop at the desired depth. I was confident in my calculations and would just look at the blade, review my movie from last year and get giddy and nervous and excited imagining the blade going into my gut.
This was around the 2nd week of July. I need to do this by the 23rd. I was so ready and getting myself worked up psychologically for the annual ritual. To be honest, just the thought of a piece of hard, cold steel blade entering my gut gets me to a point of insanity
I stabbed myself twice last year, but it was so shallow. Would I be able to this year? As the day approached, I made a trip to the desert to scout out a proper and private location. Last year’s spot was compromised. I parked my car, got my cameras, two this year for simultaneous filming from two angles, and hiked about a mile into the hills. I finally found the spot and looked around for hikers or horse riders. I saw none and, being a weekday for the event, I’d be fine. What would a hiker with their family think of a half naked man in a mask with a knife think?
The night before, I could hardly sleep. When I got up, I immediately got ready and it was finally time to go back to my previously scouted spot. When I parked my car, I made one last glance around and there was no one in sight. I quickly hiked to the spot and worked up a sweat.
I was ready. I took off my clothes, put on my mask and had and grabbed my knife. My heart was racing. Would someone surprise me and call the cops? Would I faint from excitement?
Now, you can’t just stand there and hold the knife out a few feet and thrust it into your gut. I had to get into the mood and make several/many practice attempts with no contact. I was hot and sweaty and ready. I growled deeply, moaning. I was almost there. My body, soul, mind and spirit were peaking.
All at once I swung my right arm out holding the knife away from my body and thrust it hard at my abdomen just to the right of the navel. Nothing!!! The blade hit my gut and glanced off. What the fuck? I had tested the blade and it was as sharp as ever. I looked down at my gut and cussed. Had I not swung hard enough? Once more, I repeated the scene. NOTHING!!!!! Fuck!!!!! I was fricken mad now. I pawed at my gut, looked at the blade. I was desperate to get that fucking knife in me.
I growled hard and loud. I screamed and worked myself up to a fevered pitch of lust and desire for pain and blood. Once more, I swung my arm out then back in harder. Feeling no entry of the blade into my gut, no pain, no sensation at all, but the pressure similar to getting punched, I looked down to see the 1.25 inch portion of the blade embedded in my gut. Finally, I had done it. It was like an orgasm. Just knowing the blade was inside me was incredible. I just starred at it, loving it. I wanted it deeper. I began to pull it out and was so amazed at how much actually went in. There was blood on the blade and I could see the other two attempt marks.
I pawed at my skin again and the blood began to quickly drip down my abdomen onto my shorts. It was wonderful and no pain at all. Skin and fat have very few pain receptors. I did feel the sting of hitting the muscle, but even the increased depth from last year’s event was not earth shattering. I immediately decided I could go more.
I want all five inches of the blade inside me at some point?
What makes a man do this to himself? What inside my head is fucked up?
I have a knife with a five inch blade. It is a Gerber dagger with a very sharp double edge and not too wide. Even going 1.25 inches, it would cause a wound only .5 inches wide or so. I measured off 1.25 inches and put several layers of duct tape on the blade as a safety stop. This would absolutely guarantee that the blade would stop at the desired depth. I was confident in my calculations and would just look at the blade, review my movie from last year and get giddy and nervous and excited imagining the blade going into my gut.
This was around the 2nd week of July. I need to do this by the 23rd. I was so ready and getting myself worked up psychologically for the annual ritual. To be honest, just the thought of a piece of hard, cold steel blade entering my gut gets me to a point of insanity
I stabbed myself twice last year, but it was so shallow. Would I be able to this year? As the day approached, I made a trip to the desert to scout out a proper and private location. Last year’s spot was compromised. I parked my car, got my cameras, two this year for simultaneous filming from two angles, and hiked about a mile into the hills. I finally found the spot and looked around for hikers or horse riders. I saw none and, being a weekday for the event, I’d be fine. What would a hiker with their family think of a half naked man in a mask with a knife think?
The night before, I could hardly sleep. When I got up, I immediately got ready and it was finally time to go back to my previously scouted spot. When I parked my car, I made one last glance around and there was no one in sight. I quickly hiked to the spot and worked up a sweat.
I was ready. I took off my clothes, put on my mask and had and grabbed my knife. My heart was racing. Would someone surprise me and call the cops? Would I faint from excitement?
Now, you can’t just stand there and hold the knife out a few feet and thrust it into your gut. I had to get into the mood and make several/many practice attempts with no contact. I was hot and sweaty and ready. I growled deeply, moaning. I was almost there. My body, soul, mind and spirit were peaking.
All at once I swung my right arm out holding the knife away from my body and thrust it hard at my abdomen just to the right of the navel. Nothing!!! The blade hit my gut and glanced off. What the fuck? I had tested the blade and it was as sharp as ever. I looked down at my gut and cussed. Had I not swung hard enough? Once more, I repeated the scene. NOTHING!!!!! Fuck!!!!! I was fricken mad now. I pawed at my gut, looked at the blade. I was desperate to get that fucking knife in me.
I growled hard and loud. I screamed and worked myself up to a fevered pitch of lust and desire for pain and blood. Once more, I swung my arm out then back in harder. Feeling no entry of the blade into my gut, no pain, no sensation at all, but the pressure similar to getting punched, I looked down to see the 1.25 inch portion of the blade embedded in my gut. Finally, I had done it. It was like an orgasm. Just knowing the blade was inside me was incredible. I just starred at it, loving it. I wanted it deeper. I began to pull it out and was so amazed at how much actually went in. There was blood on the blade and I could see the other two attempt marks.
I pawed at my skin again and the blood began to quickly drip down my abdomen onto my shorts. It was wonderful and no pain at all. Skin and fat have very few pain receptors. I did feel the sting of hitting the muscle, but even the increased depth from last year’s event was not earth shattering. I immediately decided I could go more.
I want all five inches of the blade inside me at some point?
What makes a man do this to himself? What inside my head is fucked up?
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