Submissive's Journey 13bymollycactus©
I have learned, often the hard way, not to be too nosy about what my Mistress is doing.
In fact, I noticed that she has about four levels of physically chastising me for infractions. If it is a minor infraction, and she is feeling playful, she spanks my butt. If it is more serious, she slaps my tits rather hard. If she is extremely angry, I will receive the unpleasant feeling of her open palm swatting hard against my pussy!
But the worst physical chastisement of all occurs when she feels I am being disrespectful to her – then, with little warning, her hand will crack across my face. By her logic, being struck in the face is the most disrespectful thing that one person can do to another. Therefore my disrespect warrants an extremely disrespectful response.
I listed "physical" chastisements because her "mental" chastisement is the ultimate punishment. If she is irate with me, she merely withdraws herself from me, acting as if I do not exist. This makes me wither, like a flower without sun and water. I only experienced that once, and I never want to be punished like that again.
I mention all this to explain why, when I come upon her doing something unusual, I usually avert my eyes and continue about my business. Therefore, the day I entered the kitchen and found her staring at a block of ice, I merely asked for her pardon in interrupting her, and hastily beat a retreat. I admit I was curious, but not curious enough to risk her displeasure.
This went on for several days – I know this, because I was made to clean up the water spillage in the kitchen each time. Then came the day that I learned what this was all about. From our living room, Barbara summoned me, "Come here, my pet." As I approached her, preparing to kneel, she said, "Remain standing where you are."
She carefully undressed me. Sometimes she commands me to strip quickly; sometimes she commands me to strip slowly and sensuously, like doing a seductive striptease. But sometimes, she indulges herself in the pleasure of removing my garments with her own hands. I love the feeling of her hands undoing my buttons, unhooking my bra, loosening my belt, unzipping and lowering my skirt or slacks. By the time her hands grasp the waistband of my panties, and begin pulling them downward, I am always already wet and shaking with desire.
But on this day, after undressing me, she did not touch my body at all, other than to take my wrists behind my back, and secure them with handcuffs. As usual, she double locked the cuffs, a safety precaution so that if I struggled or rolled around, placing my weight on them, they would not close any tighter against my wrists. The one day she forgot to do this, and I was in agony in moments. She quickly had to release the cuffs before any real damage could occur. After that, she was always careful to apply the double lock. Now, as I stood naked and handcuffed in the center of the room, my Mistress went into the kitchen, and returned with a block of ice.
"Inside this block of ice," she said, "is the key to your handcuffs. From careful research, I know it will take approximately 2 hours for it to melt enough to free the key. Unfortunately, in one hour, two men will arrive here at the house whom I have invited. Our arrangement is such that if they manage to lay hands upon you while you are still cuffed, they have my permission to use you in any way they see fit for four hours. Of course, they will not be allowed to do any permanent damage to your body; I will be observing. But these men are rather rough, and they take great pleasure in hurting women. Indeed, they seem most satisfied when the woman that they are enjoying is crying, sobbing her heart out, and begging them, pleading with them, to please, please stop what they are doing. And they don't stop, they then make it worse! They seem to have an innate ability to invent ingenious ways to humiliate a woman! I have seen their work in the past, and it always amazes me!"
As she was explaining this to me, I felt my mouth go dry, and my stomach twist into a knot. I was already building a mental image of these two fiends. I did not like what I was seeing at all! To be at their mercy? For four very long hours? I felt my body cringing, its various parts trying to draw together at my center, to make me very small, perhaps so I could disappear. I thought about pleading with my Mistress, for her to cancel this, and spare me.
But I also realized that she had put a lot of work into this – setting this up. It seemed that she had some sort of admiration for these two brutes. She was probably very curious as to what they would do to me, as their playmate. I have a strong streak of curiosity, but in this instance, I had absolutely no curiosity about their intentions. Finally I came to the realization that I was being presented with a challenge, and an opportunity to again explore my limits with my Mistress. Therefore, I tried to quell my apprehension, and focus on what my Mistress said next.
"You may not use any tools on this block of ice," she explained. "For instance, you may not place it in the sink and run hot water on it. You may not heat it on the stove. You also may not attempt to break it in any way, for instance, by stomping on it or dropping it onto the floor. You may try to speed the melting of the ice with the heat from your body, if you wish, but that is all. If you do anything that I perceive as cheating, you will forfeit this game, and I will give you to the men for SIX hours. Do you understand these rules?"
"I think I do, Mistress. But if I am uncertain if something is permissible, may I ask you?" I queried.
"Yes, my pet. That would probably be the prudent thing to do." She glanced at the clock. "Perfect timing. It is now one hour until they are due to arrive. You had better get busy."
"Yes Mistress. Mistress, you said I could use the heat of my body. Does that include my breath?"
"Yes, using your breath is permissible," she confirmed.
"Thank you, Mistress." I immediately bent over the table where the block of ice stood, and started exhaling warm breath onto it as fast as I could. Barbara settled herself into a comfortable seat, smiling as she watched me begin to pump my lungs, forcing warm air onto the block. I'm sure she enjoyed the view of my bobbing naked ass and swaying tits as I frantically exhaled. Soon I became quite dizzy, and had to stop before I keeled over. The ice showed hardly any signs of melting.
I turned my back to the table, and felt blindly behind me with my cuffed hands. They soon found the ice, and I tried pressing my warm hands on the frigid surface. It was so cold that the immediate sensation of chill quickly turned into a feeling of burning on the palms of my hands, and I soon had to let go.
I knew that in the winter time, when my hands got cold, I warmed them in my armpits. Surely this part of my body must give off a lot of heat. I turned sideways to the table, and wasted several minutes trying to maneuver myself to get my armpit over the ice block.
Finally I was in position, and carefully lowered myself. My mouth opened to release a loud shriek as I pressed the freezing structure against my armpit! But I gritted my teeth and stood it as long as I could. I turned and repeated it with my other armpit. Precious minutes had passed, but I did finally have a small pool of water at the base of the block.
I glanced over at my Mistress. She seemed highly amused. It was not often that I put on such a performance for her. To give my armpits a chance to recover, I again leaned over to blow warm air onto the ice. But as the minutes passed, I became more and more anxious. Almost half an hour had passed, and to be honest, in my apprehensive state I could not easily judge how much progress I had made. I had to do something more radical! Again I turned my back to the table and felt around for the ice. Once I had it in my hands, I lifted it and moved out away from the table.
"Careful, pet. Don't drop it!" Mistress warned me.
The shock of hearing this admonition in the quiet room almost DID make me drop it! After a couple of heart stopping moments of fumbling, my hands got it back under control. Now I carefully knelt down on the floor, and leaning backwards slightly, lowered it carefully to the surface.
I then flopped onto my left shoulder from my kneeling position, ending up on my left side, my hands still cuffed behind me. I scooted over to the ice, and tried to wrap my tummy around it on the floor. This proved to not only be cold, but also awkward. Steeling myself against what I do was to come, I slowly rolled my tummy directly up on top of the ice. It's cold fire seared into my belly!
I could tell that I was accelerating its rate of melting, but my body could not stand that for very long. Wriggling and squirming my naked body towards my feet, I managed to work the ice up to the space between my breasts. A pool of cold water was now seeping away from the slowly diminishing block of ice. The freezing sensation was not only at the center of my chest, but also along the inner sides of each of my tits. The sensation hardened my nipples, while at the same time my body weight made these now rock hard pebbles shove up into my breast tissue!
I looked at the clock. OMG! I was running out of time! I needed to do something drastic. I swallowed hard as I realized the warmest place that remained on my body. But I was laying on my belly with my hands cuffed at the small of my back. I had to get upright again – and fast!
Abandoning the ice for the moment, I wriggled over to the low coffee table. I managed to brace myself on it with my forehead, and then managed to work a shoulder onto it, then levered myself upright. Racing against the clock, I scooted back over to the ice. Gathering all my courage, I spread my thighs apart, positioned my cunt directly over the ice, and lowered myself.
I managed not to scream. But a loud gasp escaped my lips as the remaining melting block of ice slipped up between my labia! I was not certain how long I could stand this, but looking at the clock, this seemed to be my last hope. Ice cold water was now flowing from my cunt, but my inner folds were chilling fast. Whenever I heard a car slow down outside, my heart almost stopped. I feared that the two men were arriving!
I looked over at Barbara, my Mistress. I blush now to admit this, but I was desperate! I let my gaze wander over her, looking at her short, blond, shining hair, her blue eyes framed with those beautiful eyelashes, and those red, very desirable lips. The pain from the chill inside my cunt eased as I looked at her slim, petite form, covered in a lovely, but thin dress. It was thin enough to show her gorgeous B cup breasts with their perky nipples. A dress short enough to display her exciting thighs and calves, with her dainty feet encased in her elegant stilettos. Her smile, as she watched me struggle, encouraged me to mentally undress her, and quickly. In my mind's eye, she sat there, nude and available. I felt a sexual flush start at my neck and travel downward. My growing excitement heated my cunt again. The ice melted even faster!
Finally, something felt different inside my cunt. I rose up, and shook my hips, and heard a tiny tinkling sound on the floor. Blindly, my hands scrambled around behind me, searching. To my relief, there was the key.
My relief was short-lived, however, because at that moment I heard car doors slam outside! I looked at the clock; the hour was up. Two loud male voices could easily be heard laughing in our driveway, coming towards the house. From the sound of it, they were in high spirits. I briefly panicked. Then I remembered exactly what my Mistress had said. Holding the key, I awkwardly scrambled to my feet, and raced up the stairs. Picking a room at random, I hid inside and fumbled with the key, trying to get it into the handcuff lock.
Downstairs, I heard my Mistress call out a greeting as she opened the front door, "Hello Rick. Hi Marty. You boys are right on time. I admire punctuality. My girl is upstairs, someplace."
I had just managed to get the key into one of the locks, when I heard their footsteps pounding on the stairs! But I had to be careful. The key has to be turned in one direction if the cuffs are single locked, and the other direction if they are double locked. If you try to force them, there's even a chance that the key may break off.
With my hands behind me, my heart thumping madly, barely daring to breathe, I closed my eyes and tried to picture the proper direction. I heard the men opening the doors to various rooms, searching for me, stating in graphic details some of the things that they planned to do to me. Suddenly, with a snicking sound, the cuff opened. Quickly I remove the other cuff, threw down the handcuffs, and dashed into the hallway, trying to reach my Mistress.
I was not fast enough!
One of the men threw his arm around my waist, saying, "Where do you think you're going, girlie?"
"Mistress!" I cried out. "I freed myself before they caught me!"
"Bring her down here," Barbara called.
The huge man whose name I learned was Marty, carried me bodily down the stairs, followed by his buddy, Rick. As we came in the sight, Barbara saw that I indeed was not wearing handcuffs any longer.
"Set her down!" she commanded.
To my surprise, Marty did as he was told, and I was deposited on all fours. I think my eyes widened in surprise that my Mistress had power over these brutes, even when they were still in a state of excitement from their "hunt" for me.
"You know what our agreement was, gentlemen. You had to catch her while she was still handcuffed. She managed to get herself free in time, so you cannot have her as a plaything for four hours. Perhaps next time," she stated very calmly.
The expression on their faces revealed their disappointment. Mistress went on to say, "However, I would feel badly if you drove all the way here, and went away with no reward for your efforts. Therefore, my slut here will service you both, using her hands and mouth until you cum. Please either have a seat, or rest on the sofa or even the floor and make yourself comfortable."
As they heard this, their faces broke into smiles. I was so relieved that I was not to be their plaything, that I was eager to make them ejaculate as quickly as I could, so they could leave.
Marty immediately yanked his pants down to his ankles. He was wearing no underwear, but this came as no surprise to me. He plopped his naked ass on the edge of a chair, so his cock and balls dangled over the edge. "Come here, bitch!" he growled in a deep voice.
I crawled to a spot between his knees, and looked at his uncircumcised cock and swollen balls. Normally, I like playing with uncircumcised cocks. It is rather fun to grasp the skin on the shaft and pull slowly downward. This movement peels the foreskin downward also, revealing a sensitive, purplish glans. But as I did this, to my horror, his glans appeared, covered with a smelly, cheesy substance: smegma.
I thought to myself, "Doesn't this guy ever wash?" I shot a look of appeal to my Mistress, silently begging her to stop me. But I saw the blue of her eyes darken to a more steely shade, and I knew that I must carry out her command.
Thinking fast, and hoping this brutish male would not take offense, I gathered a big gob of spit in my mouth, and spat it right on the glans. As it hit, I immediately started polishing the glans with my hand, acting like I was lubricating it, but in reality, I was desperately trying to clean it.
He must have liked the touch of my hand because he merely said, "That's it, bitch! Make me nice and wet!"
So I spat again and again, smearing my spittle all over his cock, from the head downward. Soon it was fairly clean, and most of the smell was gone. I now risked moving closer, my face nearer to the now swelling cock. I turned a little sideways, to give him a view of one of my tits. Men, I have found, are highly visual. They find the sight of naked female parts very arousing.
"Take it in your mouth, bitch!" he commanded, as his hand grabbed my exposed tit, squeezing it painfully. The sudden pain caused me to yelp.
"Let her go!" thundered my Mistress. "I gave you no permission to touch her. She is the pleasure you with her hands and mouth as she sees fit this time!"
Reluctantly, he let go of his grip, and settled back. Wanting him to cum as quickly as possible, I started pumping his shaft rapidly. With my other hand, I cradled his balls, lifting them to press them gently against his crotch. I extended my tongue, and started flicking it at the underside of his cock, right where the glans joins the shaft. This, I have learned from experience, is usually the most sensitive part. It was certainly true in this case.
In only a few minutes, he started shaking, groaned, and his cock trembled in my hands. Still pumping it, I pointed it away from my face and continued licking the side of his glans. His body began jerking as his cock shot a stream of cum from its tip, arcing through the air, and splatting on the wooden floor. I kept pumping until he had no more to release.
My Mistress said, "All well and good, my girl. But clean up that mess you made on the floor."
I was glad that I had swept the floor earlier, because I knew she meant with my mouth and tongue. I started licking, pleased to discover that the cum tasted rather normal, rather than nasty. It would've made no difference to my Mistress of course, but it made the cleanup more pleasant, even though it was humiliating crawling around naked, licking semen from the floor.
The second man, Rick, stretched himself out on the sofa, opening his pants to reveal a large, semi-erect, circumcised cock. I scooted over to the side of the sofa, and took his cock in both hands, examining it. Perhaps it was just the contrast to that first cock, but in my eyes, this cock looked wonderful. It both looked and smelled clean, giving off a spicy scent that appealed to me.
I had been told to use my hands and my mouth; no other restrictions. So I climbed up onto the sofa, straddling his knees, still holding his cock in one hand. This position opened my thighs, giving him a good look at my cunt. I leaned slowly forward, watching his eyes dart to my now dangling breasts. Soon they were lost to his sight though, because I kept leaning forward, opening my mouth to receive his cock. Since he was only semi-erect, I was able to engulf the entire thing. My lips pressed against the flesh at the base of his shaft.
Still keeping his cock in my warm, wet mouth, I slipped my tongue out past my lips, so it could slap wetly back-and-forth over his scrotum. This caused him to arch his back in pleasure, and I felt his cock swelling rapidly in my mouth, engorging with surges of hot blood. He was not calling me words like "bitch", "slut", or "whore" – he was too busy moaning!
From over by the chair, I heard his buddy exclaim, "Hot damn!"
But I was concentrating on this lovely cock. I slipped it out of my mouth, and pumped it gently near its tip as I examined it. The inrush of blood made all the surface veins stand out proudly. I traced a finger tip along the veins, enjoying the texture of his skin.
"You had better not get any semen on that sofa, pet!" warned my Mistress.
"Yes Mistress," I acknowledged. I could tell he was getting very excited, perhaps because he sensed my willingness to suck him off. The scent of his arousal was driving me crazy. I had to work fast, because if I let it get to me too intensely, I myself might cum, and mess up the sofa. So I positioned my face directly above the tiny slit at the tip of his cock, and lowered my lips until they encircled the crown around the edge of his glans. Sucking at the head of his cock, my right hand pumped his shaft with a slight twisting motion, while my left hand cradled and fondled his balls. With the tip of my tongue, I tapped, flicked, and gently poked the extremely sensitive skin that surrounded that tiny slit.