Her eyes were the only way she had left to worship me, but I had to blindfold her. She was tied to the bed; only silk and ribbons (too sweet for chains or rope, this one)- she wouldn’t struggle enough to loosen them. All done, I sat for a moment to admire my work, adore her; she couldn’t see my admiration, in any case she was lost in a sensory deprived world.

I fetched some ice. She hates it so I normally save it for last, when she’s cross and hurt and tired and spent, to push her over the edge. This time, I wanted it first. She could feel I was playful, drawing smiley faces, writing “Fuck” on her chest, but my snail trails of cold water turned to business at hand. I pressed the melting cube to her palms, behind her ears, the apex of her armpit, the soles of her feet. I ran it up the inside of her thigh and held it against her clit until she twitched in horror. I pushed the last of the cube inside her, and sucked her clit until it was warm again.

Tempting, then, to tease her more with my tongue, but I also needed to deprive myself. I opened the window and lit a cigarette to calm down. I blew the smoke in her face and her dear little nose wrinkled in disgust. I laughed, and squatted my hot, sweet cunt instead. I touched a fingertip of my wetness to the tip of her nose. The tension in her body thrilled me; her irritation at having a wet nose and not being able to touch it, or lick it or remove the sensation delighted me. I closed the window.

I warmed her body, white with cold, with mine, brushing my nipples against hers, curling around her to meet my cunt to hers. Too much, too much again. I went to read a paper for work - at first every few seconds my eyes would flick to the bed, watching her writhing so minutely to try and escape my notice, but without being able to entirely stop herself. Finally I was able to concentrate, but when I reached the last page, I saw she had dropped the tiny red silk square from her left hand.

I knew she could take a minute longer, and finished my paper. I went to sit across her hips, making paper cuts down the side of her rib cage with the sharp side of my last page. I untied her ankles, and removed her blindfold, soaked with her tears; her needs written even more clearly in her eyes than her body alone could tell me. I knew the answer to my question before I un-gagged her to answer; “Why have we stopped - discomfort or desire?” I sat over her, spat in her face before she had time to whisper, “desire”. You are a slut, a filthy whore, I growled.

She turned to one side and flinched before I even raised my hand to slap her face. I turned her over roughly, and spanked her sweet little bottom until she dropped flat, then I turned her again, spreading her legs and having her, my fingers inside her dripping cunt so easily. I half sat, half lay beside her, one hand across her throat, my other fisting her, my slender hand balled inside her.

Finally, I undid her wrists, and draped her across my lap as I sat. I held her to me and let her suckle my nipples as I caressed her clit; she was sore and desperate after waiting so long. I held her to me when she came, whispered “Good girl! Come for Mummy.” Her head jerked back, her body in spasm, I pulled her hair to open her eyes so she’d look at me.

I read love in her eyes, and knew she’d read the same in mine.

- Roxi Pearl