Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Freddy
Naked and bound to Mistress Camille’s bed was not how he’d anticipated his night going.
He hadn’t wanted to assume this was what would happen, despite the date and despite her inviting him up to her place.
He’d been happy to follow her lead on where the night took them, without presuming it would take them anywhere.
It was clear she hadn’t been prepared, either, but she’d made it work.
It had taken her a few minutes to find her cuffs, and she’d cursed under her breath when she couldn’t find everything she’d wanted.
He’d laughed and told her he was happy to do whatever she liked, including holding himself in place.
But she’d wanted him tied up.
So, now he had the cuffs around his wrists, a silk scarf looping through the D-rings to tie them to the bedpost, and same with his ankles. His arms were straight up above his head while his legs were spread, his erect cock bobbing over his body like an eager puppy ready to play.
The warm, inviting décor of the room, with its dark wood and sensual, red curtains on the windows and a matching comforter with cream accents on the bed, made him feel as though he was getting a secret glimpse at her inner self. The bedroom was definitely her private space, and it showed.
“You look delicious,” she teased, running a finger down the center of his chest, all the way to his belly button, then lifting it rather than going lower.
“Thank you, Mistress.” He winked at her. “I’m happy to be eaten…”
She laughed, exactly as he’d intended. Though some Dominants could be strict, he’d picked up on that she liked a bit of sass while they played. He had no doubt if he crossed the line he’d know it immediately, but she did want to play, not just scene.
“Not yet. I have a few things I want to get to first… even if I can’t find my toys. Do you have any issues with blindfolds?”
“Only that it means I won’t be able to look at your beauty.”
Camille snorted, shaking her head. He didn’t think she was denying she was beautiful.
No, she was shaking her head at the schmaltz.
He could live with that. It was fun to be schmaltzy, especially when it was appreciated, and despite her head shake, he could tell that she’d liked it. She didn’t tell him to stop.
“You are going to be trouble.” Leaning forward, she put the blindfold over his eyes.
Bound and helpless in the middle of her bed, he couldn’t see what was going to happen next.
His dick was hard as a rock with anticipation, his nerves aquiver as he tried to hear her movements and guess what was happening. “I’ll be right back.”
Ah, fuck.
She was going to torture him with waiting.
The bed shifted as she got off, then his ears were straining as she left the room as he tried to hear what she was doing.
Which was impossible. His heart rate kicked up, and he instinctively tugged on the restraints to test them.
Not too hard because he didn’t want to damage her bed, but his brain needed to know.
All the while, he kept listening for sounds… Was that the fridge opening? What room was she in?
What could she be getting?
The number of pervertables—household objects that could be perverted into sex toys—was endless. He trusted her to know which ones made good toys without being dangerous, but even once she came back in, he wouldn’t know what she’d picked up.
Talk about erotic torture.
Camille
Returning to her bedroom, where Freddy waited for her, the sight of him in her bed, tied up and blindfolded, vulnerable and waiting for her like a good boy made her smile so wide, her face hurt.
Not that he had a lot of opportunity to move, but she had secured the restraints with Velcro, heavy duty Velcro but still Velcro, and he could have gotten free if he really wanted to.
Some subs might do it just to give their Dominant a reason to punish them, but while Freddy might be full of sass, he wasn’t a brat.
“Good boy,” she said, enjoying the sight of his cock flexing at the sound of her praise.
Walking to the edge of the bed, she laid out the items she’d found around the house.
There wasn’t as much as she would have liked.
She wished she’d thought about ordering some new toys and implements now that she was getting back into the scene, but some part of her hadn’t believed she’d really go through with it because every time she’d had the thought, she’d dismissed it.
On the other hand, sometimes, it was fun to make do with what one had.
When the ice clinked against the sides of the bowl, Freddy’s head turned toward the sound, trying to figure out what it was.
Next to the bowl of ice, she put the long feather she’d found in one of her drawers, leftover from a hat she’d worn for a costume years ago.
It had fallen out of the hat, and she’d kept meaning to repair it but never got around to it.
Sometimes, procrastination paid off. If it had been attached to the hat, she wouldn’t have been able to use it for tonight.
The last thing she put down was a paintbrush. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to use it for, but she’d grabbed it, sure she’d be able to figure something out.
Tomorrow, she would be ordering some new toys, regardless of how much fun it was to play with found objects.
Looking at her options, she picked up the feather. Brushing it lightly over Freddy’s leg, she grinned when he didn’t seem to feel it until it reached his thigh. He jumped, his head moving back and forth and tilting up, as if he was trying to peek under the blindfold.
“Naughty, no peeking,” she said, giving the top of his thigh a short, sharp smack before moving the feather tendrils up to his stomach.
“Fuck!” He tightened his stomach muscles, flexing, and Camille grinned as she realized the problem—he was ticklish.
“Something wrong, Freddy?” she asked innocently, brushing it up to his chest, then back down again, holding back her sadistic giggles as he writhed and strained.
“No, Mistress.” The words came out clipped, then he clenched his jaw, obviously trying to keep himself under control as she moved the feather.
Brushing it up and down his torso, it wasn’t too hard to find his most ticklish spots—right under his ribs, the outer sides of his stomach, and of course, his armpits.
He didn’t want to laugh, which she took as a personal challenge. It also gave her an idea for the paint brush.
Freddy
“Fuck!” Freddy’s toes curled. The ticklish sensation of something very lightly dancing over his skin had been exchanged for a firm but still ticklish stroke up his side and along the underside of his rib. He tried to twist away but couldn’t.
Tickling was not one of his kinks. He’d never even thought about it as something to do, though he’d known it could be a kink for some people.
Freddy had never particularly liked being tickled, and while the feathery strokes were both torturous and fun, it was enough, he almost called out his slowdown word.
Before he could, Camille’s hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a firm stroke as she ran what felt like some kind of small brush up his other side, causing him to writhe again.
With her thumb rubbing over the swollen head of his dick, the sensation felt different. Still ticklish. Still making him want to writhe and laugh. But now it was infused with the pleasure from her hand stroking him, the warmth of her palm heating his cock as she moved it up and down his shaft.
The conflicting sensations made him whimper.
Pain was something he was used to dealing with, but this? This was chaos for his senses, yet he wasn’t sure he wanted her to stop.
The brush moved around his nipple, the stiff bristles moving over the tiny bud and making a little circle.
Then her hand released his cock, and he moaned with reluctance, only to cry out as something icy cold replaced the brush, freezing his sensitive nub.
Sensation play was not something he’d gotten to indulge much in at the club.
Dominants wanted to whip, belt, flog, or spank when they were at the club.
The opportunities for sensation play were much fewer and further between.
He hadn’t really felt like he was missing out since he loved impact play, but right now, he was feeling he may have been wrong about not being interested in sensation play.
Or maybe it was just because it was Mistress Camille.
The ice lifted, replaced by her warm, wet mouth. Freddy groaned, writhing again, only to gasp as the ice landed on his other nipple. Hot on one, freezing on the other, and unable to do anything about either. The ice was cold enough to hurt, but the heat warmed him from the inside out.
His skin quivered as she lifted her mouth and moved to the other nipple, but rather than moving the ice back to the first nipple, she slid the piece down his body.
His stomach muscles quivered and contracted as cold water trickled over his skin as the ice melted.
He shivered despite the warmth of her mouth on his nipple, her tongue teasing the sensitive bud.
“Fuck!” he screamed as she wrapped her hand around his dick again.
This was no warm palm, the way it had been before.
No, the piece of ice hadn’t melted yet, and she was rubbing it up and down his cock, the rest of her hand cold from holding it, even if it wasn’t freezing.
His dick wanted to shrink away, but the friction felt too good, confusing his senses as she gave him the coldest hand job he’d ever experienced.
Icy water dripped down his shaft to his balls, making his whole body tremble as she tortured him with the hot and cold. It was heaven and hell, fire and ice, and so fucking sexy, he could barely breathe.
When her mouth lifted from his nipple, he felt her shifting on the bed. He heard the ice clink, but there was no sign of what was coming next until something dropped onto his abdomen, making his stomach muscles tighten again.
“Fuck, that’s cold.”
A low chuckle met his words, but she didn’t say anything as she painted his body with the ice water.
It tickled and was cold as hell, yet his erection was as thick and eager as ever.
At this point, he wasn’t sure anything would be able to make it deflate, he was so turned on.
He groaned as she moved the brush over his body, occasionally pausing to gather more icy water on its bristles.
She moved it over his most ticklish spots, making him gasp when she reached his armpits and suck in his stomach as she circled his belly button.
When she moved it down over his groin, he shuddered, the bed creaking as his muscles tensed, and he pulled on the restraints.
Something hot and cold and so very wet engulfed his cock and Freddy cried out, thrusting up into her mouth as she swirled the ice around his shaft with her tongue.
This time, he couldn’t find the breath to utter a curse.
She’d completely taken it away with the mix of sensations, the excruciating agony and ecstasy blending into a cacophony of erotic need that made his entire body rejoice.
She hummed her pleasure as he jerked upwards, the brush still moving against his skin, over his stomach, tickling him and teasing him as her mouth worked over him.
He could barely think. The glut of sensations overwhelmed his senses, turning his brain into a pile of mush as logical and rational thought broke down, leaving behind pure desire.