Ice Queen (15 page)

“Tyler?”

“I’m here. Stand where you are and don’t move. I’m sitting on the edge of the tub, just looking at you. Your breasts, the nipples drawn up hard and firm. Your soft cunt, long legs. Those pink lips of your mouth and your sex, making me thinking of stretching either or both with my cock. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

He caressed her pussy and she gasped at the surprise of not hearing or seeing him coming. And at the fact that his words had made her wet again, despite her trepidation.

“Tyler. I can’t handle…hands in the dark.”

Taking both of her hands, Tyler let her feel his grip, warm and sure. “They’re my hands. Me. Only me. And it won’t be dark for long, I promise. Trust me.” Carefully, as he would guide a wild animal, he brought her to the side of the tub.

The paleness of her skin, the long legs, the faint tremor through her breasts as she moved and an ass that he could pet and stroke forever until she was writhing with the stimulus. It all had him suppressing a groan. He wanted to bury himself in her wet heat, again and again. He’d like to spend a week on each feature. He wanted to devour her whole, now.

To rein in his passion, to serve her best, he turned her so her back was facing him.

So he could see more clearly the marks she hadn’t wanted him to see or ask about. The marks he’d felt when he removed her shirt. Small circles, two lines of them going up either side of her spinal column. At her shoulder blades they arced out and curled over and under like a hideous Art Deco rendering of angel wings.

Perhaps another person would have thought, based on her performance with Brendan, that she liked ritual scarification. So much that she would subject herself to well over sixty separate burns. But Tyler knew what he was looking at, understood it now because of her reluctant admission.
I can’t handle hands…in the dark.
And because he knew what a cigarette burn looked like.

Submissives often dealt with a lot of emotional baggage during the first rough steps of learning to relinquish control as they craved to do. At some point in her life, she’d had control wrested from her, repeatedly.

93

Joey W. Hill

And she wondered if he thought her foolish and weak? Her courage humbled him beyond words, as did the faith she didn’t even realize she’d offered him by choosing him to fulfill this requirement.

It looked like the pattern wasn’t finished. While balanced, it was obvious the inflictor had spaced the burns so the design would fill in over time.

“You said you wouldn’t ask.” Her voice came into the pregnant silence.

“I haven’t. Just tell me one thing. Is the son of a bitch dead?” Her body tensed and he ran his hands up her arms, gentling her. “Don’t answer, sweetheart. I promised no questions. I withdraw it.” But he’d make it his business to find out, to make sure whoever had done this to her was no longer a threat. He would prove himself worthy of her faith.

“I could just be into burns.”

“If that were true, you would shiver with pleasure when I touch you there. Instead you go cold and still, like a corpse.”

His arm went around her back and under her knees. He lifted her, setting her down on the marble surface of the square center of the pool. “That stream you’re feeling is warm water flowing over the marble from small openings all along the edges.” Easing her back, he laid her head down and straightened her arms.

“Hold on to these.” He threaded her fingers beneath a metal bar embedded at the left and right corners just above her head so her arms were stretched out to either side, at an angle just above the height of her shoulders.

Marguerite felt the cuffs come down, snap into place over her wrists and was glad for the bars to curl her hands around.

“I’m here, Marguerite. Don’t forget that.” His hands were on her legs now, spreading her thighs about two feet apart. Then the thigh restraints were locked down.

Next came a band beneath her breasts, which pushed them up. He added a restraint above her breasts, compressing them. Another strap tightened securely at the waist. Her ankles were also cuffed down and now she had no mobility except her head. Almost as soon as she had the thought, she felt his hands at her neck. He buckled a strap loosely around it and then apparently clipped it to two restraining hooks on either side. He performed the same process across her forehead. Now she could no longer lift her head.

“Tyler…” Her breath was moist against the edges of the mouth opening of the mask.

His hand lowered to toy with her right breast, caress the nipple, making her want to squirm against…something. But her legs were spread. The only thing touching them was air.

“Tyler.”

“Yes, Marguerite.” The voice of a Master, implacable, aroused.

“You didn’t say anything about…” She stopped, started over. “Why did you restrain my head?”

94

Ice Queen

“Because I intend to pleasure you often while you’re being shaved. When you go under water, you’ll be holding a tube in your mouth for air. If you should turn your head from side to side you might drop it or dip it in the water. The fit of the mask keeps the water from coming in and getting up your nose if you’re relatively still. I’m going to start lowering your upper body. Your hips will elevate as your head goes underwater.

You won’t be able to hear me but just remember to breathe through your mouth. If you’re in distress, I have a control that will release all restraints simultaneously and bring the tablet up. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She wondered if she was ever going to be able to stop trembling.

He bent, placed his lips on her bare abdomen just below the point of her rib cage.

He lingered there, stimulating the area with his lips and tongue. When he rubbed his cheek against her, she found the gesture reassuring.

He moved closer to her head and his jeans brushed against her fingertips. When he laid his hand over hers and pressed the backs of her fingers against him, she felt his hard cock beneath the denim. “That’s what looking at you naked and spread like this does to me.”

She straightened her fingertips, felt the ridge of his head, prominent against the fabric. She could do this. She would. And with an unexpected feeling she refused to define as guilt or confusion, she realized that she could do it only because he was the one here, the one doing it.

“When your head first goes under you may feel a moment of claustrophobia. Just take deep, slow breaths through the tube. It’s important that you obey me in this, obey me in all things now. You’ll focus all your attention on my touch. There will be nothing but my hands in your awareness. No fear.”

“How do I tell you if something is wrong, if I need to stop?”

“I’ll be watching you very closely.” Tyler knew a safe word or gesture would do her no good at this juncture because everything was panicking her. He gazed at her body, vibrating with hyper-excited nerves. Her lips, the only visible feature of her face, repeatedly pressing together, moistening. Her arms, restrained out so he had access to the beautiful curves of her breasts rising above the fragile network of ribs, her legs spread open. He wondered what it would be like to keep her this way forever, at a level of arousal that would make her come again and again. Leave all her fears and worries behind. It was the first time in a long time that he’d had to fight so hard against a desire to keep the woman who had agreed to submit to him. He wasn’t sure if he completely had her agreement but he was going to do his best in this session to convince her that forever could be a very pleasurable word.

“Open your mouth.”

He inserted the mouthpiece of the air tube in between her teeth. “Bite down. Not too hard. You just need to hold it a moment.” He buckled the elastic band around her head. Her chest was rising and falling more rapidly now, he saw. He heard the rasping sound of air coming in and out of the tube.

95

Joey W. Hill

It was an advanced level for anyone, not just a person who resisted loss of control to the degree she did. He didn’t know what instinct was driving him to push her into such an extreme sensory deprivation session so quickly, except that he’d told her the truth.

That, perversely, the experience could help calm a nervous sub once she was immersed in the stillness of the water. However, if he didn’t get her there soon, she might genuinely panic and his heart wouldn’t hold out against her distress.

He also knew if he didn’t start shaving her soon, change
his
focus, he was going to be eating her pussy until her breath became downright asthmatic, her teeth biting into the hard rubber of the tube like a rabid dog, her silken muscles rippling along his thrusting tongue. What he really wanted was to take his trousers down and drive into her, ignore the rules. He pressed the controls.

The upper part of the tablet began to sink into the floor, taking her body down, down. The water rose to her ears, the side of her face under the mask. He watched her muscles tighten in panic, then she was immersed. He forced himself to keep her going until her body was at a forty-five degree angle and about five inches of the tube was visible. The water wavered over her, creating a beautiful mermaid image before his eyes. Her lips pressed hard on the tube but he knew she’d ease up when she realized that the straps would hold it in place without her tiring her jaw.

When he pressed another control, the section beneath her calves began to descend, a separate jointed piece of the tablet. It gave him the ability to draw a tall stool into the shallow water in the channel below her feet, move between her spread legs to her knees and study the delectable pussy completely available to him. It also gave him a clear view of her sloped out beneath him. He turned on the audio system of the room and the soft notes of
Claire de Lune
began as he picked up his razor and the apple-scented skin gell he’d chosen. He hoped it suited her tastes, as much as her tea choice had suited his.

96

Ice Queen

Silence. As the water caressed her lips, clasped around the tube, as it moved between the spaces of her fingers, she felt the silence descend. Where was he? He said his touch would be there. In this world, five seconds could become a lifetime. The panic was immediate, seizing up her throat. She needed his touch, needed it now. She’d never done this level of sensory deprivation with a submissive. While all good Masters and Mistresses provided pleasure to the sub, it was a balance; the desire of the sub for pain or submission balanced the Dominant’s need to dominate, to test the levels of submission. Tyler’s need was apparently for total raw vulnerability.

She wanted this to stop. Couldn’t do this. Where
was
he?

He’d told her to focus on touch and what else? She strained against the bonds, all the cool rationality, the total control exercised by her as a Mistress fleeing before the power of the terrifying anxiety. Was he playing with her?

She realized then how much her subs had given her. She didn’t think of herself as a coward but would she ever willingly have given up control as Brendan had done had she not met Tyler? Had she not had The Zone requirement, she corrected herself. But the correction was an evasion of the truth her mind had stated baldly. She would not have done this with any other Master.

Please touch me. God, now. I’m frightened.

Her breath expulsed on a near sob as he touched her thigh. Stroked. Drew a… He drew a heart. Once, twice and then again. Then wrote, one letter at a time, big unmistakable. Upon her flesh. B…R…E…A…T…H…E.

Breathe.
That was what he had told her to do. Breathe.

Some of the panic receded. She took the deep breath and recovered enough to draw in the second one more slowly, then another. His thumbs were passing over her clit now, touching her hair. He was combing the short hair, being infinitely careful, making sure he did not snag her in any way. She wasn’t in a tomb. It was a womb and he was caring for her. He was here. He said he wouldn’t leave her. He promised.

But she found she still needed to feel his touch every second, her mind freezing up again in the several seconds it withdrew and then came back. Heat, shaving lotion being applied. Spread out on his palms, obviously warmed between them before he applied it upon her. His fingers spreading it over her mons, her labia and even under her, parting her upraised buttocks, the pussy hair that grew back in the area of the anus.

As he touched her in what should have been a functional manner, handling her pussy as if he had every right to groom it, the anxiety coil in her stomach was twisting, shifting. Changing. She realized her breath was becoming shallow now from arousal.

97

Joey W. Hill

The moment she had the thought, he drew the heart again. She put it together, that it was a quick symbol to remind her to keep breathing deeply, simply. She should know all this. She should be totally in control of this situation. All of it, her emotions, her reactions. She’d been a Mistress forever. There were several other parts of her life where breathing, focusing on details in extreme circumstances and keeping one’s head was crucial. She also ran a business, for heaven’s sake. Why was this throwing her for such a loop?

Thought fled as his breath touched her. When she realized his lips were close to her cunt, her thigh muscles reacted like a drawn bow, straining outward, a futile effort because of her restraints. What was he doing to her?

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, lower down, and licked her. A tiny bite of teeth. Another drawn heart, this time with his tongue.

Breathe in, breathe out. His hand rested on her cream-coated pussy, warning her before she felt the slick glide of a razor. When he shifted his hand so it was on her thigh, he inserted a thumb between her leg and her sex to steady his strokes. All she could think about was that thumb. He shifted it over her folds to hold them closed, increasing sensation as he navigated the razor down the side of the labia just above the tender pocket between thigh and hip. Her stomach muscles quivered. Trying to lick her lips, she licked the tube inside the mouthpiece. That made her think about tasting him.

Sucking in another breath, she quelled the absurd urge to nip and suckle the thing in her mouth. The oral craving rose in her so strong and immediate it brought to mind his hard cock and one of the most potent acts a submissive could perform for a male Dom.

Was this what being treated like a sub made even a Domme feel when she was subjected to it? Or was it just Tyler and the unique chemistry they seemed to have?

She wanted to examine it further but the pulsing demand beneath his fingertips was distracting her. She meditated, practiced yoga. She knew what it was to still everything in the mind but she’d never experienced this, a silence so complete that she only had one focus beyond her jumbled thoughts and that one focus was taking even those away.

She arched as his thumb shifted, bearing down again on the outer lips to more smoothly shave a straight line from the mons down into that area. As he did so, turning his hand, he slid his fore and middle fingers partly inside her. The thumb shifted to her clit. And though the water provided lubrication, she knew she was slick with heat for him.

God, how could she breathe through this? His fingers eased slowly deeper, the thumb pushing up, applying simple, inexorable pleasure. She felt the heavy pulse of blood in that area through the pressure of his finger. Lifting her hips because she couldn’t help herself, she moved into the touch as much as her bonds would allow.

He was right. She unconsciously tried to turn her head, allow that part of her to thrash, but the forehead and neck strap kept her fast. She gasped through the tube, her 98

Ice Queen

hands clenching on the handles he’d told her to grip before he cuffed her wrists to the marble.

Tyler watched her, his mermaid, as she responded to his touch, her cunt muscles tightening on his fingers, wanting more. He understood the feeling painfully well. She arched, her ribs smooth ripples along her sides as she fought the restraints. Her lips were working behind the mouthpiece, biting down, if her tense jaw was any indication, displaying an oral demand his cock was throbbing to appease.

Not yet.
Not yet.
He employed some of the same deep breathing techniques he’d urged upon her, knowing the rewards for waiting. As a Mistress, she knew them, too, but he understood that she was discovering one of the amazing pleasures of submitting.

With nothing required of her but the Master’s Will, inhibiting her desires outside the requirements of his commands was not necessary. He’d thought if he restrained her, deprived her of most of her sensory ability, she could fall into that never-ending playground of sensations and instead of thinking about the boundaries, she would run from playset to playset. He’d succeeded and Christ, she was killing him.

She was soaked. He could tell the difference between the water’s light touch and the heavy slickness from her body. He looked at his palm, saw her fluid had trickled down into the shallow bowl of it. But her chest was expanding and releasing too quickly now, the air sighing out of the tube in a way that easily brought to him the vision of her lying on his bed, writhing against him and moaning her pleasure as he brought her to peak, again and again.

He’d ordered her verbally last time. This time he didn’t give her the chance to think or resist. Stroking his thumb back and forth across the distended clit, he found her sweet spot inside with his fingers and laid the finger of his other hand against the opening of her anus, accessible to him from her position, just teasing the rim.

The water rolled as she lunged up against her restraints. Her forehead pressed hard against the strap, tighter than the one on her throat so at this type of moment the pressure on her throat would not be hazardous. The rasping in the tube became a guttural sound, somewhere between a wheezing sob and a breathy scream. He closed his eyes, reveling fiercely in it. In feeling her pussy ripple and contract in a long, hard orgasm that he’d made her helpless to deny this time. Her breasts were tight points even as he worked her through the after-shudders. When he slowly, reluctantly withdrew his fingers, he reached for another way to keep her mind focused on only one thing. His Will, and the pleasure it could bring her.

Standing, he trailed his fingers down her belly into the water and cupped the left breast, still rising and falling rapidly from her exertions. Fitting the rubber sides of the clamp around her hard nipple, he followed her movements to tighten the screw. He stopped when he felt her tense, then let it back out one adjustment. He wanted her to wear them for a while and feel their pleasurable discomfort, but not slide into pain. He moved across, did the other one and then let the heavy chain that attached the two float down and rest in a crescent along her upper abdomen.

99

Joey W. Hill

Marguerite could not keep up with each new sensation. Her body was still throbbing from the second orgasm he’d given her in less than an hour. When those hands drifted up her rib cage, bringing the touch of a foreign item, she had a moment of trepidation. Then reaction shot from the compression of her nipple straight into her lower belly, coiling together with the aftermath to keep her in a state of wanting.

What are you doing to me?
She’d been thankful for the strap holding the breathing tube in her mouth, for she couldn’t possibly have held on to it during the soaring pinnacle he’d just sent her tumbling over.

Now his hands never left her, one on her at all times. She caught a breath in her throat as he slid something thick and short into her pussy, something that had a clit stimulator. The waterproof vibrator immediately pulsed on her clit at low setting, causing her to squirm as the extra-sensitive tissues were stimulated further. No, she couldn’t… It didn’t feel… It was uncomfortable so soon after the orgasm but a pleasurable response clutched in her lower belly. Her restraints only intensified it, because between that and the thigh straps she could only twitch in small movements against it.

The razor was back, working on the left side of her pussy. She gnawed on the mouth tube, trying to breathe, trying to calm herself down, despite the steady pulse of sensation against her clit.

She couldn’t control anything. Though she knew that was the point, she hadn’t expected this. This disintegration of her mind into a million bubbles of floating torment where all she could think about was his touch, what he would do to her next.

She screamed as he bumped up the setting abruptly to maximum. No, no, no… It was too much sensation, too much. It hurt, it didn’t hurt, it was just too much, taking her clit up to a paralyzed, pre-orgasmic state where it could not go further, could only do its best to withstand the battering staccato vibrations. Too fast to let her go over, too much stimulus not to. As she hung on that precipice, her body heaved against unrelenting bonds.

Then, unbelievably, another orgasm ripped through her body, too ruthless to be called pleasurable but underscoring a point she understood as clearly as if he’d spoken it. He’d take her up and over whenever he wished, until she was exhausted and could not think beyond the next wave of desire.

When Tyler gradually lowered the small vibrator’s setting, he took careful notice of her spasmodic shudders. Her body was reacting to the stimulus but was otherwise nearing lethargy, worn down by the physical and mental stress of their evening together. It was time to put his baby down for a nap.

It was going to be hell to lie next to her, knowing there was no relief in sight for him. He had no intention of breaking her rule about sex, though it was obvious he could do it easily. He’d mowed over her restraint about kissing as if it had never been but he wouldn’t do so again. He intended to hear the sweet sound of her begging to break all her rules before the weekend was over.

100

Ice Queen

He’d caught her off guard, taking her where she didn’t expect to go. Once she had time to think, she would re-Marshall her defenses and make it that much harder for him.

And he was going to let her do it, because he was going to prove no matter how thick the walls she built, he could shatter them.

* * * * *

It took twenty minutes of meticulous care to shave her completely. When he was done he eased out the vibrator, wet with her post-come honey as well as the arousal the continuing stimulation had coaxed from her. He rubbed her skin down with benzocaine gell and a lotion with the same light apple scent. He liked massaging her soft, smooth skin, looking at her nipples large and aroused in the nipple clamps. Occasionally he tugged on the chain, felt her pussy contract beneath his thumb and nodded, satisfied she had become thoroughly aroused again despite her exhaustion.

At length he pressed the controls, keeping his hand on her as the marble slab began to come up, taking her back to a level spread-eagle position. Removing the strap across her forehead, he took the mouthpiece from her lips, resisting the urge to suck the beads of water from around them. Then he unlaced the head mask, taking it off, smoothing out her hair as her pale eyes focused, sought him.

Marguerite was hungry for the sight of him. She was glad for the restraints that remained so she didn’t do something ridiculous. It was odd, but the silence of the water had come above the waterline with her, so all they did for a few minutes was look at each other, his hand caressing her hair, her temple. She felt soothed, quieted by the touch. She didn’t feel a need to do anything at the moment but look at him, and it seemed he was indulging in the same activity. Eventually he pressed a control. True to his word all the restraints released at once with the exception of the adjustable straps at her throat and breasts. Those he released himself, his fingers grazing her sensitive skin.

She shuddered as he unbuckled the strap around her throat. His hands stilled momentarily, his eyes studying her. Then he finished removing it without comment and set it aside.