Everything that happened here was pre-planned and agreed to, with enthusiastic consent, and all of the requisite safety prep completed. For more information about consent, check out my profile :)

We sat there as I swirled a large cocktail ice cube in my glass. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and one of my Tshirts, but I could see the way the clothes hung on her curves. Lines and curves are what I find the most beautiful in the opposite sex.

We had just finished a scene, and I poured drinks. She was completely used up. Makeup ruined. My cum dried on her lower back all the way down to her ass and thighs. Marks and redness all over. What I had done was beautiful, and noticing the way she sat there I was just feeling a sense of pride. She was saying something but I was just getting hard, thinking about what I’d do next. Wondering if it was even possible for her to take more. But I didn’t really care, I only had to listen for the safe word.

I decided to take her by the hand, guiding her into a more comfortable position. When I went to take my t-shirt off of her, she said “no”, which for me is one of the most exciting things someone can say. I felt a rush come through my body. I continued pulling off the shirt, ignoring her request. She held her arms in a way that made it difficult to take it off, but I quickly grabbed her dark hair, telling her very sternly to be a good girl. She finally complied, with a deep breath and exasperated moan.

As punishment for attempting to resist me, I used a piece of rope from our previous scene, taking away her ability to touch me. She didn’t have much energy to fight back. As I slipped a blindfold over her eyes, she had a look that made me think she was somewhere else. Numb and wasted. I needed to bring her back to me, I needed her to engage, at least in brief snippets to realize the condition that she was actually in. With one swig, I finished my drink and took out the large piece of ice. It was cube shaped with tiny bubbles trapped inside.

They appeared to be frozen in a state of motion, trapped and entrained into the cold translucence. The metaphor was not lost on me as I described what I saw, on one hand in the ice cube, and on the other hand in her. The air, normally just invisible, a piece of everyone’s story often taken for granted was in this context given the chance to be observed in its most beautiful state. And her, trapped, entrained, existing for utility but at her most beautiful in form.

I told the story as I used the piece of ice on the most sensitive areas of her smooth body, starting on her neck. Right over the natural curve that forms where neck meets chest, the water pooled in the beautiful indent that her collarbone creates. I kissed over her pulse, feeling it start to race directly under my tongue. I was careful to make sure not a drop made it off of her skin.

Holding the cube in my hand, I allowed the ice to drip over the middle of her chest. Drop by drop it ran down between her handful sized tits and over her sternum. It ran down her belly before getting caught by my mouth above her navel, causing her to squirm. It turned me on that she was a little uncomfortable, this was punishment after all.

Kissing where each drop landed, I made my way to her left breast, I pressed my lips around her erect nipple, creating a seal and breaking it by pulling my mouth away. I played with the stainless steel barbel that pierced it, flicking it with my tongue and pulling it into my mouth. I wanted her to feel the warmth of my mouth and the cold of the water, how it creates anticipation. I pressed the ice against her nipple with force, at the same time I slid my fingers between the waistband of her sweatpants and her smooth skin.

Playing out the pain and pressure from the ice, juxtaposed with the warmth of the tension between her thighs was my goal. I alternated curling my finger up and down, rhythmically stroking her lips, dragging her wetness with it while my palm ground against her clit, causing her to breathe even more heavily than before. I started to rock the ice back and forth in a coordinated rhythm with her pussy. I leaned over and started delicately sucking and biting her other breast, Ignoring the tip which was standing perfectly. Aching, begging for attention. Finally I gave into it for my pleasure. It was sweet in my mouth, pushing her closer to that which she needed the most in that moment, but I wouldn't let her have.

Knowing her body well and her mind better allowed me to pinpoint the exact moment she was going to slip into climax, so I could stop. Each time I brought her closer and closer, convincing her with my conviction that I’d let her get there, but each time I denied her. She sobbed and groaned, her legs curling with frustration, trying but failing to make friction.

I slid the ice down past her belly, my warm breath as a reminder of the sting of where the ice traveled. I stopped right above her pussy as my tongue swirled the nipple that was just under the ice - making it feel like it was being seared by an iron.

I took her nipple into my mouth at the same time as the icy water followed the channels and folds of her labia. Her pussy was still throbbing from being denied release, leaving her body confused and Irritated in the best possible way. I reached lower, allowing the ice to rest right above her clit as I slid my finger inside. In and out. With a curl of my finger I pressed on the the swollen upper area, rhythmically stroking as the cold water collided with the friction of my hand.

I reached my other hand up to her throat, squeezing, pushing her down, holding her in place like a synthetic gravity that could crush her in an instant, if it wanted to. Her body started to tense, her raspy moans got louder. And In her most vulnerable moment the sensations of hot and cold, pain and pleasure, chaos and control, fear and trust all collided as I ordered her to cum for me.