Tag Archives: Sharp Nails


The Lady examined his skin as if it were a papyrus scroll.
She shook Her head: the skin lays over your body like a depleted field. A barren landscape of dust and dirt, that’s what it is. It’s dry, it’s dull and missing its glow. And … wait, wait … hold on … oh no, there’s no skin circulation anymore!!
Jesus Christ, he panicked, no circulation??
Sir, we have to act quickly, before things get out of hand. Lay face down on the table and spread your arms. That’s it, lovely. I need to strap your arms and head, because desperate times call for desperate measures. Normally I would use a body brush or scrubbe-
Stop blathering, Woman, he screamed, DO something.
A cold front moved into Her eyes and She lashed out with Her nails. She dug Her nails deep into his skin and dragged them down. Sometimes agonizing slowly, sometimes with lightning speed. He screamed, wriggled and fought in agony. But She was just getting warmed up and went full throttle on his back, arms and legs. Then She unstrapped him and had him turn over.
Save me, he cried. Save my epidermis!
She nodded, climbed up the table and sat on his chest.
This is going to hurt a bit, She said. She pierced Her sharp nails into his face and scratched the skin of his cheeks. Blood trickled down from the deep cuts. He howled in pain.
Don’t you worry, She said, your skin will be soft, smooth and healthy again in no time.