« Cold Slave ... »



"Go to my furs now girl. Har-ta!" He said in a controlled tone.

Green eyes flashing angrily, she spat, "Yes, Master," and turned on her heel, storming from the main room.
Sinking onto the furs in His room, she knelt, waiting, scarcely controlling the flare of temper. Lowering her eyes as He entered the room to hide her emotions from Him, she waited for His command.

"I said, 'to my furs' girl. Strip and lay atop them."

Tearing at the slave silk she pulled it away and lay back upon the furs, her legs pressed together as she placed her hands at her sides. CLANK! He fastened a shackle to her right ankle jerking her legs wide apart and snapping the other on her left. She looked up at Him outraged, only to meet His stony gaze as He snapped her wrists in bracelets above her head. There was no place to hide, no place she could retreat to. She was completely exposed to Him and vulnerably so.

Strolling around the furs, He gazed at the slave before him. Beautiful, haughty and desirable, the girl was so many things in one infuriated package. His boot nudged her foot, pushing it wider letting the chain slacken. "Lift your hips slut," He spoke low as He lifted a rolled fur from a nearby chest. She complied, but not fully. "Higher." Still she did not raise her hips high enough.

A strong hand shot forth pinching her by the exposed pearl and tugging it until she raised her hips to the position He desired. She looked at Him incredulously as the small nubbin throbbed with a mixture of pleasure and pain. The fur scraping against her ass as He shoved it beneath her, holding her in this position. Obscenely displayed for Him as He continued to gaze at the girl.

"You sought to hide something from me slave. That is unacceptable so you will remain exposed fully to me. You will not be allowed to close your legs, nor hide your eyes. NO! Do not turn your face away. You will look at me until I say otherwise." Then He turned His back to her, walking to a nearby table, busying Himself there as she seethed in anger.

Several long moments later, He kicked His boots aside and released the laces of His leathers, kicking them off. After removing His tunic He turned to face her, a bowl in His hand. "You also thought to treat me with coldness. That too is unacceptable." He crawled between her thighs then, still holding the bowl, spilling the cold liquid over her chest. She shivered as He laughed in triumph. "It seems my slave does not like coldness anymore than I do." His fingers spread the petals of her slave flower and before she realized what was happening, He had thrust several chunks of ice inside her, causing her to writhe wildly beneath Him. She however did not take her eyes off His face.

"Master, have mercy," she pleaded but to no avail. He let her whimper, with the rapidly melting ice firmly inserted inside. Occasionally catching a droplet of the water with the tip of His finger as it dripped from her spasming opening. "It seems my slave is not so cold. She melts ice rather quickly," He observed. Her lip began to tremble as she watched Him, tears forming in the depths of her eyes.

"No, Master. Your slave is not cold," she spoke through chattering teeth, her insides chilled as she churned her hips, trying to dislodge the ice. The pad of His thumb brushed lightly over her pearl then, causing the distended flesh to quiver wildly beneath His touch, a moan poured from her lips as her hips bucked.

" You will learn your womanhood, " I told the blondish girl. " And I will tell you where you will learn it. " She looked up at me. " At the feet of a master, " I told her.
TRIBESMEN OF GOR, Pg. 13



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