The idea of being cut on purpose leaves me cold. But I will gladly bleed for him. I have been whipped and canned hard enough for that. I have submitted to needles. One I went on a hiking trip with no shoes for him. I expected my feet to be hurt and to bleed and they did. But in all this examples bleeding itself was not the objective, only the consequence.

Now that I am into dancing, we rented a movie called "The Naked Tango". There is a scene where the leasding man makes the heroine dance in an slaughterhouse, ankle deep in bloodied water, holding a knife to her throat. That was strangely erotic and it turned me on, but if I had seen him cut her, I would have been put off.