Fire and Ice


Our camping site was simple, the area completely remote. We were close to a crystal clear pond, and, given the heat, we only had a groundsheet stretched between poles under a canopy of trees as our tent. Another, bigger groundsheet was spread on the floor with some pillows scattered for comfort. Everything else was suspended from the trees in two special gauze boxes that we lowered and raised on ropes to keep it clean and relatively insect and snake free. It was a private little Garden of Eden, lush and isolated, and we were totally, completely alone. The sounds of nature were joyously loud, from the far-away gentle rushing of the river that fed the pond to the more mysterious rustlings in the grass. Around us birds and insects celebrated their lives heartily in a number of discordant choirs that merged into soothing beauty. What wasn’t so simple was my relationship with you or the way you were rather firmly and nakedly tied up to the four sturdy poles of our canopy. You’d seriously pissed me off, and it was time for a little reality adjustment – yours. You didn’t realise how badly you’d upset me and nor did you have an inkling of what was going to happen here, but I had planned this very, very thoroughly. Of course I was nervous about my plans as I was going to be crossing some questionable moral boundaries, but sometimes ‘a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do’. You’d been tied up there for quite a while already as I’d been pottering around the camp. I had made sure you’d gone to the toilet and had something to drink before I’d tethered you, all very subtly of course. Once bound, you weren’t going anywhere. “Hey Noal, it’s so hot. Can I get you something cool to drink while we still have ice?” It sounded so natural and caring, not the prelude to an unexpected bit of torture at all, did it? And a little later: “It’s so hot it’s making me hot. I’ve got special plans for you.” This was said with my best flirtatious look, and it was true as well, I did have special plans for you. “Take off your clothes babe. No, no touching yet. Spread your arms and your legs.” You didn’t argue when you saw the rope, it just made you more eager. After all, it was one of our favourite games and we seldom had enough time to indulge it. To your mind, this camping expedition was starting off pretty well. “I’ll be back soon,” I assured you as I drifted off to get the ice box and make sure it was in deep shade. Your eyes are following Şişli escort bayan me everywhere eagerly, thinking that soon things are going to be going your way. I positioned myself between your legs so that you could see me well, and then stripped off my top and shorts. Running an ice-cube over my face, my nape and my neck I felt it trickle down in little rivulets over my shoulders and breasts. The high temperatures were almost unbearable, but the ice still managed to leave some damp trails on my bra before it evaporated. The next piece of ice was trailed over my stomach, right up to my bra and then down again, circling my bellybutton a time or two before dipping ever so slightly into my pantie-line. It felt like heaven. You must also have been hot so I approached you with a piece of ice, but didn’t trail it over your body as I did mine. Instead I popped it into your mouth then returned to my old position, shrugging off my bra and panties, and continued to ice myself down running another quickly melting cube over my neck, chest and nipples. It felt deliciously cool, gorgeously chilling on my hot little nipples. Your body was reacting eagerly to my little show despite the fact that I was mostly ignoring you and just concentrating on myself. Satisfied with the results I was achieving, I blew you a little kiss, grabbed my towel and sashayed over to the pond for a dip. “Brenda, what the …?” you call after me. “Just going to cool off,” I toss back. You were irritated now, but kept quiet, probably thinking it would be worth your while a little later if you were patient. In fairness, to you, being patient is one of your strengths. I took my time, enjoying the contrast of temperatures; the feel of the hot sun beating down on me in the icy mountain water. Thinking of temperatures I started to grin. Oh yes, today was going to be a day of contrasts, a real yin and yang day. Playing in the water, chasing glimmering fish I had no hope of catching, I kept myself distracted for a reasonable time before I eventually made my way back towards you, naked, dripping wet and feeling just a little smug as I looked at how pretty you looked there, all tied up. “What’s up babe,” I teased. You weren’t trying to hide how irritated you were any more. I sauntered over to you, being considerate, and shook cold drops of water from my hair all over you to help cool you down. Somehow that just pissed you off Escort Sultangazi more. “This isn’t funny Brenda. I’m not in the mood for this. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Untie me. I’m not in the mood anymore.” “Sorry, babe, but that’s not gonna happen.” I looked you straight in the eyes when I said that and you saw for the first time that there was something else smouldering in mine, a real anger. “You’re not still cross about the fight are you? This is ridiculous. Get over it. We’re supposed to be having a good time together, instead you’re messing everything up.” “Noal, darling,” I said as I allowed you to see what I had just picked up from a special little box I’d brought with me; it was a roll of broad micropore tape. “You see, the thing is I’ve had enough of your opinion. Now we’re going to make sure you listen to me for a change.” I managed to get the tape sturdily over your mouth, but not without some effort. Your eyes had never glared quite so viciously at me before and I must admit I felt real fear then that my plans might backfire on me, but I wasn’t going to retreat into old habits now. “Look, truth be told, I’m partially to blame,” I explained to you. “I’ve taken the easy way out by allowing you to make decisions about my life, but it has to stop now. You have to understand that I’m your equal in this relationship or we’re doomed to failure because in the long term I can’t accept anything less. Don’t worry babe, it might hurt, but I promise you, you are going to enjoy this – eventually.” Strangely my words didn’t seem to pacify you, but I ignored that. With the tape over your mouth I couldn’t give you another piece of ice, but fetched the ice box anyway and start the whole process of cooling myself down again. I had a different plan for this next piece of ice and sucked on it, enjoying it as if all the pleasure I could ever get was centred in that little piece of frozen water. Oops, it wasn’t melting. I saw the instant you realised why that was: your eyes widened in shock and you tried to say something that was muffled behind the tape. “No babe, you’re right. It’s not ice; it’s a very well-chilled glass butt plug. Now the big question is ‘to lube or not to lube?’. It all depends on how good you are.” I carried on a completely polite, emotionless and easy one-sided conversation with you as if I was asking you how many sugars in your tea. I watched as Taksim escort you tried to consciously settle down. You didn’t think I’d hurt you, but then you never thought I’d be doing any of this to you. I returned my attention to the glass as I thought about it, taking my time to decide quite how far you needed me to go. As I considered, I abstractedly ran another piece of melting ice over myself. I hardly even noticed as a few cool drops dripped onto your legs. I dropped the glass plug back into the ice box as I reconsidered, and then rummaged through for something else. I iced myself from elbow, into my sensitive armpit … and lower. You watched, fascinated; your arousal reviving, as your anger visibly flagged. You were giving yourself up to me, submitting to the punishment you had earned and deserved. I took another dip into the ice-box and removed another piece of ice – yes, real ice. Every time my hand dipped in there, you tensed, knowing that eventually it wouldn’t be the ice that was going to come out. Another trip to the ice box …. another block of ice. Eventually your fear was realised and I did dip into the icebox to take out the little glass phallus. Your eyes grew wide again. It didn’t look so big to me, why did it seem big to you? I poked my tongue out cheekily, licked it from bottom to top, and then, mercifully for you, returned to the ice-box for the bottle of lube I had kept as cold as your soon-to-be penetrator. Ahh – my thoughtfulness. I lubed it liberally. I hadn’t touched you sexually at all and you had been bound there for over three hours, but still your hard-on speared up, and you lifted your groin as much as you could to help me access your nether hole. I was not gentle, but neither was I rough. I inserted it firmly and steadily until your hole swallowed its icy guest the same way the tape was swallowing your moans. The burn didn’t stop now; it carried on and on and on as the cold penetrated your anal muscles: burning, clenching, radiating bliss. I saw the pleasure-pain and how you embraced it in your eyes. And still it burned: on and on and on. Sitting down between your legs I began aimlessly rifling through my little box of tricks, my woman’s secrets. Aahh that looked interesting: a thin little silk rope, red and not much thicker than a tapestry needle. I played with it, idly knotting the ends together so that I had a loop that I could hook and weave between my fingers. You sometimes felt my breath on you, sometimes my hair trailing on your legs or your groin as I concentrated intensely, weaving the little cord rope between my fingers. The burning in your butt had settled now, leaving just a feeling of fullness in its wake, even a little discomfort as you are lying on your back.

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