I hear soft footsteps coming toward the bed, then something cold and wet touches my breast. Ice—so cold it burns, leaving a damp trail of goosebumps in its wake as it circles the tip of first one breast then the other. A warm tongue laps gently at the chilled flesh, warming it. The dichotomy of sensations it stirs in me is absolutely incredible.
"Told you I was going to cool you off." I can hear the smug amusement in the rich tones as my captor speaks, although the last words are somewhat muffled by my own flesh. "You can make all the noise you want now, baby. There’s nobody here but me, and I want to hear you scream."
Scream? Me? For the first time in this little game, something inside me rebels. Beg maybe, but scream? Even as the thought crosses my mind, I begin to twist, struggling against my bonds. I’ve never been a screamer, and I don’t see it happening now.
A low laugh greets my efforts, and I hear the unmistakable clinking of ice falling on glass. We tussle for a few moments, and unaccountably I feel my arousal mounting. Fighting avails me little in any case, serving only to bring more of my body into contact with that of my captor.
"Go ahead and fight me—you’ll still get what you were promised. I won’t even punish you this time." The throaty laughter continues as I’m deftly wrestled back into position. With seemingly little effort, my legs are bound at the ankles leaving me spread wide open. Despite my momentary rebellion the fire in my belly continues to rage, clamoring for more.
"Now where were we?"
The question appears to be rhetorical, because I can already hear the sound of the ice rattling in the glass. The exquisite torment begins again. Cold, followed by warm, wet heat. My breasts are taut with arousal, swollen almost to the point of pain, and I can feel the melted ice traveling in tiny rivulets along my skin. Just when I begin to think that I can’t take anymore, the ice begins to move again leaving a trail of fire across my belly to my thighs.
My bonds are momentarily forgotten as I try to move away from the burning coldness that moves with torturous slowness across my slick folds. The hot, wet mouth soon follows and I feel teeth graze lightly over my clitoris before settling there, alternately suckling and nibbling. I’m on the verge of blacking out, when something hard and cold enters me driving the orgasm back. Ice again, big enough to fill me. It feels incredible and, Goddess help me, I scream.
I’m given no reprieve as that frigid wetness pumps into my burning flesh, working in tandem with the continuing efforts of tongue and teeth. I feel the conflagration rising, driving me once more to the edge, when everything stops. I whimper in frustration, and I hear that soft laugh again.
"What’s the matter, baby. You want something, do you?" Hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once—stroking, pinching, teasing. The minute I get close to the edge, they stop. My tension mounts until I’m desperate for release. "Come on. Tell me what you want."
Four fingers wiggle inside me, and I can take no more. I beg instinctively, unsure of what I’m saying, knowing only that I must have release. Finally, that treacherous mouth descends upon my once more. I buck mindlessly against my captor’s hand, seeking satisfaction. This time there is no pulling back, and orgasm hits me like a freight train. For the first time, I feel that beautiful cataclysm that others describe and reality literally shatters, driving me into unconsciousness.
***
I wake slowly, feeling the soreness in my muscles. There is no trace left of the tension that plagued me earlier. My eyes open to my own bedroom, and I stretch languorously remembering. Paper rattles against my hand, and I pick it up. My heart begins to race as I read the single sentence hastily scrawled across the page.
That was only lesson one…
(c) 2002 M.C. Sak
NOTE: Don't blame my beta readers for this one. I posted this without showing it to them.