Ice Cubes 3

Sweat dripped down her brow as she strained uselessly against the leather cuffs binding her wrists to the bed. The black cloth bound around her head prevented her from seeing him. Not knowing was all apart of the fun. The drawers opened almost soundlessly, but beside her eyes, her ears were her strongest sense. She knew each drawers sound reflectively, and she could guess exactly the instruments he was choosing.

A knot formed in her stomach while she waited. Had he left her there, bound and spread on the bed? It would just like him to choose now to break for tea or dinner. The silence encompassed her, bearing down on her like the weight of her lover. It caressed her skin, forcing her mind to race and body sweat. It was becoming too much for her, she wanted to call out for him, though she knew he would never respond.

A deep sigh emanated from the corner of the room, and her Master shuffled forward, his eyes sweeping her body. She was beautiful like this, all tied up and at his mercy. He wanted to keep her like this forever. He wondered vaguely if she would accept this before realizing; she didn't have much of a choice. Taking a swig of the cola-vodka mix from the bedside table he took care to learn over her statue-still body without touching her. Gently he lowered his face to hers, pouring a small taste of his drink into her mouth. She held it there obediently until he closed her mouth and she swallowed wordlessly, the only hint she gave was the twisting of her features; she could taste the alcohol.

He lowered his mouth to her navel, the ice cube making a plopping sound as it exited his mouth. He watched her. Her muscles tightened and contracted as her body adjusted to the cold. She was careful not to move though. This was the game they played; to spill the water would mean punishment worse than whatever he would do to her now. If she stayed still, she would get a treat. Easy. Simple. But she'd never been able to stay still.

He kissed his way down her body, leaving wet, cold marks down her stomach. Whether they would bruise and become evidence of their love-making would have to wait. He rarely marked her, preferring to claim her body in other, more definite ways. His fingernails traced her legs lightly, goosebumps perpetrating her flesh. She whimpered, his kisses heading further south and the anticipation for what was to come was sending her wild.

A single, solitary lick of her inner thigh made her jump, his tongue was so cold. She was panting now, the ice cube barely within the confines of her navel. Strong hands gripped her thighs and his head dipped between them. Carefully he placed another ice cube between his lips before pressing it into her lips, finding her clit and rubbing the ice cube up and down.

She screamed and he loved it. The ice cube was long dislodged from her belly button and she was gripping the bed post with all her might. All she needed was one touch and she would be over the edge. But he refused. A sadistic smile played on his lips as he crawled up her body, positioning himself at her entrance. They hadn't been together for a week, she was bound to be as tight as when they had first met. She was quivering beneath him, waiting impatiently for him to drive into her. She waited and waited, it was torturing her, he knew. That's why he made her wait. Slowly her body stopped shaking her heart slowed, though it wouldn't return to its normal rate until well after her Master had fallen asleep. She closed her eyes, trying to focus her mind on anything else than the man above her, anything but the sweet intoxicating smell of her master, of the implications of being in this room with him.

In one swift thrust he filled her. This was her punishment. It was a sweet kind of punishment though. Initially it hurt, but soon she was swept up in the throes of orgasm. She was so far gone she forgot to ask permission. She would be punished for that, she knew, but in that moment, she couldn't wait for it.