Basking in the glow of the night before she slept. Curled up in a soft ball of lovely flesh she laid, a smile winding its way up her cheek. Her bare, sweat-glistening chest rising and falling softly, the moisture of her spent body, slowly seeping its way into the ripped and tossed sheets. Fingers caress her bruised wrists in sweet memory of the night before as her dreams relive them in vivid detail...
She sat in the dark room, shivering slightly in anticipation and apprehension. Her boyfriend had told her that this would be a night to remember, but her imagination kept egging her. Something just wasn’t right, she could smell her own fear. They had always been open with each other, her boyfriend and she. Any time they were going to make love, she would know in explicit tasty detail. It was her habit to plan everything to the last detail. It was not a habit it was merely a part of her, as deeply entrenched into her soul as her religion. He also knew this, and that was the main reason he didn’t tell her his plans. He wanted her uneasy, he wanted her off balance, not knowing what to expect. She knew he wasn’t going to hurt her, she trusted him with her life, but still that gleam in his eye as he closed the door, that unadulterated lust and craving, frightened her as the darkness consumed her.
The silence frightened her, the darkness frightened her, the time frightened her. Had he forgotten her or was he intentionally doing this to get this reaction? Knowing his memory she honestly couldn’t tell and as the moments dragged on, she truly began to doubt herself. Finally he came in, the light of the other room barely allowing her to see him. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a Tee shirt, both black. It was different from what he was wearing before, she noticed this instantly. She glanced down at her own clothes, long sleeved shirt, wide-legged jeans, and brown leather shoes with black socks. Then she noticed the bag. His leather duffel bag, also black to match his clothes. He sat down on the side of the bed, and kissed her, taking her head in one hand as he pulled her close to him. She was too mad at him to do much besides stare at him. He pulled away and opened the bag.
Out of the bag he pulled a black silk scarf. He took it in both hands and looked up at her and smiled. “Do you trust me?” Again he was the same man she had fallen in love with 6 months ago. She dispelled all of her fears and smiled at him.
“Of course I do.” With that she felt the scarf being rolled-up and slipped over her eyes, Following this was a night mask, one of those little eye covers that people use to sleep. Now what light she had was stolen from her as the silk and mask effectively blinded her. He whispered as he licked the side of her ear.
“Lay down in the middle of the bed.” Again she does his bidding, relying on her trust of him. She felt fur rub along her bare inner arm, then both of them. The rattle of metal ... A chain? “Wha...” was all she got out before the handcuffs clicked around both of her wrists. She instantly tugged at them and they were bound to something at the head board. She was now trapped. She heard a soft chuckle and a pair of hands caressing her arms. She felt him move down the bed and she felt his hands touch her legs, again the soft caress and she felt him removing her shoes and socks. “Hey this isn’t funny.” The fears returning. If he was just gonna fuck her why was he tying her up before taking off her clothes. She started doubting him again.
“What are you doing?”
Then a coarse rope looped its way around her leg and pulled tight to the side of the bed. She began struggling now, but the bindings held tight and soon the other leg was trapped, she lay spread eagle on the bed. Helpless.
“You’re scaring me ... Please ... Stop...”
She felt him stop moving. She didn’t like that.
“Damn it ... I’m not kidding I’m scared...”
Then she felt his lips on hers. He still hadn’t said a word beyond the ones that ran again and again in her head. “Do you trust me?” She wasn’t sure anymore, but it was too late she was trapped. She could scream but he could always gag her, so she remained silent. He lumbered over and off the bed, and returned quickly. She felt cold metal and the sharp edge of the knife on her wrists. Her thoughts raced, “Oh God he’s gonna kill me!”
She began squirming and she heard him hiss... “you keep moving and you will be cut.”
She felt the knife dig in and begin cutting her shirt. She relaxed instantly, once again her fear abated but far from stilled. She lay confused again.
He worked quietly, cutting a slit down her arm and moved to take the other. He then rubbed the knife down her throat, dull side along her quivering flesh before cutting a tight line down her chest, popping her bra with the edge as he worked, carving her clothes up like a side of beef, but leaving her panties, even though she was now laying on the tattered remains of her prized clothes.
Then she was alone again, she couldn’t even hear his breathing, the sun had set so the room was completely, deathly dark. Her fingers were beginning to tingle from being bound and she was afraid to feel her legs. The air blew on her small body, chilling her to the bone. She heard a chuckle and gasped as she felt something cold and wet strike her in the center of the chest and spread from there. Up and down her chest, from navel to neck, this piercing coldness seeped its way into her body. Then she felt his body on the bed and he sat straddling her hips. He was naked, she could feel his thighs on hers and he bent at the waist and rubbed her stomach. The cold liquid was oil...
His fingers stroked easily over her slickened skin. In soft circles he rubbed the sweet liquid into her body. As his fingers moved along her skin she smelled the fragrance being released, vanilla. The oil warmed and then began to tingle as he continued his massage, letting the oil warm her body slowly working herself into a frenzy. She smiled once and only now began to relax as both hands kneading her breasts pulled sloppily at her nipples then one hand pulled from her body for a moment ... Then a strikingly cold object touched her hardened nipple. She screamed out as the ice rubbed across her oily skin from nipple to nipple. And then he rubbed a little further down her leg, only straddling one of them as she felt his breath on her crotch. She rocked her hips away from him not wanting the cold on her, only she couldn’t run far enough. The tip of the ice found her hamstring and she screamed again as he worked it up and down her legs, the warm tingling oil and the painfully cold ice giving her mixed messages as the goose-bumps moved in force over her body. In all of the pain and pleasure she didn’t even notice the knife again, didn’t feel it sliding along her crotch, she thought it was the ice, it was cold enough ... She didn’t even realize her panties had been cut right over her slit till the ice disappeared from her leg and she was left quivering and moaning. Only then did she notice the warm slavering tongue flicking her clit.