Resheathed
I've always loved the sound of "sheathe," the verb... it's what it sounds like when someone who knows what they're doing and values their edged weapon makes, when you put your sword away. All the Kaaaaa-chiiing stuff you see in most of the popular depictions, the thing where it slides into something obviously metallic - that kills your sword. You have to sheathe it in leather inside, carefully oiled to keep the blade from rust, or in fabric made down into felt, so that it doesn't snag. That thing keeps you alive; you have to make sure it's comfortable and likes you. Anyway. I played some more with the sheath - but in my own mouth this time. Holy fuck, I think it's practically the perfect twenty-whatever-dollar sex toy. Twenty-six fifty. It smashes fairly flat to go into a box with other "advanced" like the Lacrosse ball and the Whitehead gag. It's a hard-sided case so things don't get smashed. Anyway, it's fine for it to get co...