by Nikki Steele
I hesitated. “Is… is that a good thing?”
He shook his head. “Yes,” he said, contradicting himself. “That is, no. It shouldn’t be. I don’t like losing control. I don’t do things like that in the cinema. I’m not that vanilla. You make me vanilla, and what I hate most is how much I enjoy it.”
He fingered the tape in his hands, and I realized for the first time that it looked like rope. “It’s time to take back some of my control.”
I stepped backward. He followed me.
“You remember last time, don’t you,” he asked.
I nodded, nervous.
“You liked it, didn’t you?”
I hesitated, then nodded again.
“Submit to me, Tiffany. Submit, and throw all your worries away, and I’ll show you pleasure unrivaled.” He didn’t wait for an answer, choosing instead to grab and twist me, forcing my wrists behind my back. My eyes widened and he grinned. “That’s the look I like.”
“I thought you’d given this up,” I breathed.
“I’ve changed my mind. And I’m determined to change yours too. I don’t like the way you make me feel. The way you make me want to chase you.” His hands slipped between my legs. I broke out in goosebumps. “It’s time to make you change the way you feel.”
Edward pushed me back into the room, until I was hard up against the projector. His kiss was savage as he unzipped my dress. It slid down to my feet, and I allowed him to turn and tie my hands together with film. I’d thought it would be sharp, and scratch, but he twisted it like rope before wrapping it firmly around me.
When he was done, he spun me back around. I stood before him, shivering—from fear or anticipation, I didn’t know—as he surveyed me.
He nodded to himself. “A good start. But this needs to come off…” he unclipped my bra, then pulled it off sharply. “And this too.” My panties were ripped savagely away from me. I gasped.
“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you more, if you’re a good girl.” His hand went between my legs, caressing me. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”
Somehow, I knew he wasn’t talking about his hands. They found my sweet spot anyway, and I shivered. “Relationships are all about power. I will be your master, whatever it takes. Don’t worry, we’ll keep it… light, this time. A compromise, for you.”
His free hand went to my shoulder, forcing me to my knees. I collapsed slowly, until we were both kneeling on the ground. Then he stared deep into my eyes. “But you will still need to submit, in order to be rewarded.”
He parted my thighs, spreading them until he could put his own knee between them, to press against my exposed flesh. Then, taking up more film, he leaned behind me to bind my wrists to the base of the projector. The motion caused his knee to push into me, sending a thrill through my body.
I felt so exposed. So vulnerable. I couldn’t help it—when he pulled off me, my legs closed involuntarily.
He shook his head, tsking. “That just won’t do at all,” he said, eying my closed legs. “Not for what I have in mind.” He moved behind me properly now, and I felt film being looped around both ankles. A sharp tug and—still kneeling—my legs were splayed again, held apart and tied off by film that should have been in the projector, not wound around it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
His finger ran between my thighs, enjoying the shivers that ran through me. “You’ll see… or rather, you won’t.” He held up my dress, twisting it into one long length.
“Are you going to blindfold me?”
He nodded. “The sensory deprivation will heighten everything.”
I nodded, and he pulled the material tight over my eyes, binding it to the projector as well. Now I was truly trapped. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. The world was black, and I was bound. I drew my breath to speak, but as I opened my mouth, something was drawn between my teeth, gagging me. Soft lace tickled my lips, and I realized it was the remains of my panties. “So no one can hear your screams of pleasure,” he whispered into my ears.
I breathed deeply through my nose, claustrophobia mixing with excitement; excitement winning as I realized I was totally at Edward’s disposal. He could do anything he wanted to me. Anything at all. What would he do? Where would his hands go? I imagined him pleasuring me, and a tiny warm spark ignited between my legs, though he had done nothing yet.
For the first time now I felt I truly understood the claim that pleasure in BDSM could be both mental, as well as physical. A hundred thoughts ran through my head. A hundred imaginings, each more exciting than the last, about what might happen next, sending a thrill through me, spiking my excitement.
Then he said the one thing I wasn’t expecting. “And now… you wait.”
His soft footsteps echoed slowly out of the room.
Wait? Wait for what?? A surge of panic flashed through me. Maybe he was going to leave me here. Maybe he would walk away and never come back! Would I be discovered by the next shift that came through? What if I was never found at all! It was his cinema, after all. What would happen if he just locked the door and closed the place down?
I tested my bonds in a panic. They were tight – the film creaking around my wrists as I flexed to no avail. My breathing began to grow quicker—short sharp bursts out my flared nostrils.
Then I heard a sound on the steps. It was getting closer. And the door opened.
Edward didn’t say a sound, but I knew it was him. The way he walked. The soft swish of his suit. And suddenly I wasn’t panicked. I was aroused. Deprived of sight and movement, every other sense in my body was heightened. The door opening had sent an eddy of cold air between my legs; a light tickled that reminded me why I was here.
I could hear something clinking, and then the sound of objects being laid out meticulously on a table. I was about to be inducted once more into his world. Not all the way. But a light taste. I’d done that to him. I’d made him compromise—to meet me in the middle. I’d made him want me so bad that he’d first promised to do nothing at all, and then broken even that promise with our actions in the cinema.
What could I hear? What was he going to-
“Tiffany.” His voice was loud to my deprived senses, though it must only be a whisper in the quiet room.
My reply was a muffled struggle against my own panties as I attempted to speak. I heard him draw in a breath. “That’s it. That’s what I like.”
Footsteps walked around me. Slow. Deliberate. “Oh, the things I would do to you, if you but signed that contract.” Suddenly I felt his breath on my neck. “I’m going to make you want to sign it.”
Something slippery, and burning, slid over my collarbone. I started.
“I realize my mistake now. It was too soon. You weren’t ready. I have to work you up to it slowly. Make you pliable.”
The burning object began to pool in the hollow between neck and shoulder, and I realized it wasn’t burning hot. It was burning cold. It was ice, and it was melting slowly on my skin.
The look on my face must have changed, because Edward spoke again. “Yes, its ice. It feels hot at first, doesn’t it? Like a flame.”
Another ice cube touched my flesh, this one running down the other side of my neck, to sit in the other hollow of my shoulder. “We’ll get to actual flames eventually. Yes we will. But not today. Not… yet.”
The cubes sat in the hollows on either side of my neck, cooling me rapidly. But my attention was no longer on them. It was on a third ice cube, which was sliding slowly down the front of my neck, melting to leave a trail behind it and make small beads of water skate ahead; gravity pulling them agonizingly slowly toward my nipples.
Without my sense of sight all I could track was the sensation on my skin. Sliding lower. Lower. I tensed in anticipation—I could almost feel it on my nipples. It would be burning cold, but pleasurable, a sweet sensation that was one fifth pain and 4 parts pleasure.
But then it stopped, and suddenly the ice was removed.
“The thing I lik
e about blindfolds the most,” Edward said. I heard a clink as he got another cube from his cup, then his hot breath was on my neck again. I heard him get down on his knees before me. “Is that you never know what’s going to come next.” Ice slid between my legs and I cried in surprised pleasure into my gag, struggling against my bonds.
It was followed by a soft slap. The entire area warmed, blood rushing to the skin, before—I knew it was coming now—the ice ran up me again. The process repeated—ice then slap, ice then slap—until melted water was running in cool rivulets down my thighs. The sensations… the total lack of control… it was hot. Not an emotion I would have thought to feel being chilled and them warmed in my private parts. But suddenly I found myself wondering what was going to come next. And realized that the ice wasn’t the only thing making me all wet.
I didn’t have long to find out. Another rustle on the table to the side, and then heat—actual heat—in a slow drip upon a breast. Had Edward found a candle? But then… why could I smell chocolate?
“It’s amazing what you can find in a candy bar,” Edward said casually. “Ice, of course. But did you know out they back they make their own choc-top ice-creams? As soon as I saw the tub of melted chocolate I knew we had to use it.” He laughed. “I’ve a mind to put it back when we’re done. Can you imagine all those people with chocolate all over their faces, never knowing what we’d done with it previously?”
Oh God, I hope he didn’t do that. I hoped-
A single drop of chocolate splashed across my nipple. Suddenly I could think of nothing else but the chocolate dripping down my breasts. I groaned.
“What’s that?” Edward asked. “You want more?”
I groaned again, struggling to make myself heard, struggling to let him hear the mixture of fear and pleasure on my lips.
I could imagine him cupping his hand to his ear. “You’ll have to speak up. But no matter, I have something else in mind for you now.”
I heard something crinkle. Something that rustled, that reminded me for all the world like he was opening a candy wrapper. I struggled to think of what he might find in a candy bar that would crinkle when it opened. Something that he might want to use in a situation like this.
And then with an intake of breath, I knew. Even before he was holding it by its stick, licking it to make it smooth and lubricated; his cold, wet, sweet smelling lips kissing my neck.
“Can you guess what this is?”
I tried to nod. My head moved an inch.
“Can you guess where it’s going? How I’m going to use it to fuck you?”
I tried to nod again.
“If you don’t want it, just say. Whisper the safe word and we’ll make it all stop.”
Safe word. Safe word? What safe word?
“Oh that’s right. I don’t use one. I seem to remember that was one of the things you didn’t like about my contract. Well…” He slid the popsicle—because that was what I knew it was—up my splayed legs; a thrilling, frightening trail of cold getting ever closer to my center. “I’m going to make you mine. And by the time I’m done you’ll be so broken you wouldn’t be able to speak it anyway.”
The popsicle reached my center. I moaned when it crossed my exposed lips, but could do nothing. The bindings on my arms and legs held me tight, every part of me displayed for his pleasure, helpless for him to do with as he pleased.
I heard him shift before me, then felt his tongue begin to lick the chocolate from my nipple. And then the popsicle pushed swiftly inside.
Oh God. I bit down on the gag—my eyes suddenly wide under my blindfold—as cold ice thrust inside me, wet and already dripping from my body’s heat. It pulled out slowly, just as the cold became too much, then thrust in again, making me groan. My heart began to beat harder, faster. I wanted it to stop, but I wanted it to keep going too; the cold of each thrust mixing with the pleasure of each entry to create something within me that wanted more. That needed more.
The thrusting got faster and faster, until the cold was unnoticeable, and all I could focus on was the something that was building; a ball of light that I could see even though I was blindfolded. The ball grew, expanding from my hips to make my knees ache and my chest feel like a prison for my thudding heart; forcing it up into my throat, making me dizzy.
I was so close. So close!
And then the thrusting stopped. The popsicle, still melting, stayed inside me. It grew cold again, and I could feel liquid dripping out of me, hitting the floor with tiny noises that I could barely hear between my own labored breathing. Why had he stopped?
The ice inside me began to grow cold.
“You will learn, once you’ve signed my contract, that giving me absolute power is a good thing. With me, you will go beyond your limits. It won’t always be pleasant. There will be times when it will be quite painful. Like now, when I imagine the ice inside you is starting to get colder than you enjoy. When it’s starting to burn.”
His words made me focus on the feeling, heightening it.
“But there will also be times,” I heard him shift, and then a clink and the smell of chocolate filled the air. “When it brings pleasure, too.”
A stream of hot chocolate poured over my breasts. It stung where it touched, no longer gentle drips that cooled quickly but a molten thing that made me gasp as it slid over my nipples.
“It burns, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, it’s not hot enough to leave a mark. It just feels that way because all your other senses are deprived.”
Hot chocolate began to drip onto my thighs. “But I bet it’s made you forget about the popsicle, hasn’t it?”
The popsicle! Suddenly I could feel both sensations within my body—the cold within me, the hot above, and my body didn’t know how to react, which pain to focus on.
The popsicle began to move again, and now my body knew what to do, even if my mind didn’t. It didn’t focus on either pain. It focused on the pleasure. Like chili brings out the taste in a meal, so too did the burning on my nipples and in my thighs transform to heightened pleasure. The popsicle began to move faster, and now each thrust, each drip, was building that bright light in front of my eyes. I could feel it in my hips, and my knees, and my chest, and my throat. Each thrust was heaven, each drip was hell, and somewhere in the middle I was riding a road that took the best of each, and multiplied it until it was all I could think about.
I began to groan over and over, rising higher in pitch until even Edward must hear it through the gag. The sensation within me, the sensation upon me…
A fresh wave of molten chocolate slewed down my breasts, and the pain was a pleasure so divine that it took me over the edge. My body tensed, splayed before Edward, and then an orgasm so celestial I almost blacked out had me screaming into the gag, shudders running through my body.
He pulled the gag off me when done, and then the blindfold too. I blinked in the bright light and looked down to see a popsicle stick lying on the floor, the ice now completely melted away.
CHAPTER SIX
I caught a taxi home shortly after. As luck would have it, Marty picked me up.
“Fancy seeing you again!” I said.
“It’s a small world.”
“Home please Marty, if you don’t mind. It’s been a… busy day.”
“Everything okay?”
I laughed, feeling every delicious, aching muscle. “More than okay, actually. I’ve just been on a date.”
His hands gripped the steering wheel. “How lovely. I hope you had fun?”
“Very much so.”
“Anyone important?”
“I… I don’t know. I thought that he’d changed, but it turns out he hasn’t. But then it also turns out I don’t mind him not changing, if that makes sense?”
Marty nodded sagely. “I guess it’s all in the degree of madness, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s like crazy chicks, right? Everyone likes them a little wild; it’s only when they get over the top that th
ings get out of hand. Maybe this date is like that. You like a little bit of the old him, you’re just hoping that you don’t get all of it.”
I frowned. “You know, that’s actually a really perceptive thought. I’m going to have to catch your cab more often.”
He laughed. “I’m sure that can be arranged.” He pulled a slightly battered card from his pocket. “Here. Call me any time you need a taxi.”
I took the card, oddly touched. “Thanks Marty. My car’s been playing up recently, I might just need it.”
He nodded, then continued. “You want my advice about this guy?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Be careful. He might be drip feeding you the ‘old him’ for the moment, but sooner or later he’s not going to be able to hold back the floodgates. When that happens? Well, you’ll wish you’d listened to old Marty’s advice.
While The Cat’s Away?
Posted by Miss Kitty [22:01]
Wow. Ok, where do I start. You know that post I made the other day? The one about getting over someone by sleeping with someone else? Well… I kinda, sorta, might have done it. Slept with him, that is.
It… well, it wasn’t like last time, and it also sort of was. He’s kinky, but that’s not the problem—I like that. Getting tied up? It’s actually kind of fun (seriously, give it a try ladies, at least once!). The problem, of course, is where does it stop?
I met a taxi driver tonight. Well, actually, I’ve met him a couple of times now, but that’s another story. And he seems to think that guys tend to keep the bad stuff in on their first dates.
It makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, I don’t go telling prospective boyfriends about how I have to check that the door is locked twice every time I go out, or that I have a secret, irrational fear of eating fish that still have their heads on (seriously, how could you eat something that’s looking back at you??). So maybe, guys do the same.
And that’s what worries me. If he’s already told me that things will get worse, what else is he hiding? If what he’s doing now is pleasant, but what he’s saying for the future isn’t, should I believe everything he says and more?
