Ice Cream

WARNING: IF YOU GOOGLED THE EDIBLE TREAT ‘ICE CREAM’ THIS IS NOT THE PAGE YOU WANT. THIS PAGE IS FOR THOSE OVER THE AGE OF CONSENT (18 OR HIGHER). THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF BD/SM AND IS NOT INTENDED FOR ANY BUT MATURE, CONSENTING ADULTS. OKAY, MAYBE NOT MATURE. BUT DEFINITELY ADULTS.

She danced around the kitchen naked. This was her preferred state in the summer anyway, His order only served to make it even more fun. Veggies were steaming, the chicken was marinating and awaiting the grill, and the salad sat in a chilling bowl in the fridge.

Tapping her lip she pondered what to serve Him for dessert. It was so freaking hot. Ice cream. That would please them both–He loved it, and it made it simple for her to dress up. Throw a few berries on top, a swirl of whipped cream, add a drizzle of caramel sauce and voila! A classic treat taken up a notch.

As His car pulled into the garage, the chicken was just finishing, the glasses on the table were pearled with sweat-drops from the iced water within, and the electronic candles added ambience without heat. It was so fucking hot! Wiping sweat from her forehead with her arm, she went outside to the back deck to snag the chicken. When she returned, He was there, sampling the fingerling bits of veggies she’d laid out on a tray on the island.

“Mmmm, good hummus dip. You’re getting a good hand with that.”

“Hi Sir, and thank you.”

She blushed prettily, glad that her evening cooking classes had added this dimension to their days. Laying the platter on the island beside the crudities, she dropped to her knees and rested her head against his strong thigh. From here she could smell the lovely scent of her owner, the musk of man, the hint of urine, the woodsy scent of his morning shower washed away with a day of work. This was her man, her Master, pure and elemental. His hand rested upon her head a moment, then gave a pat.

At this signal, she rose, and kissing His mouth softly, she removed his tie and jacket, moving quickly to the bedroom to hang them neatly. Scooping up his tee-shirt and shorts, she returned. This time of moving him from the businessman to her man had become a valuable service that soothed them both.

Moving back to the bedroom, she hung his pants, stored his dress shoes, and washed her hands before returning to serve them dinner. A quick glance at the dining room showed that he had removed her setting, placing only her water-glass on the floor by his chair. Her heart beat thickly in her chest. It would be one of those evenings, then.

The meal passed far to quickly.

He’d only fed her the tiniest of portions tonight, drawing and holding her close to him again and again. He was reminding her with every allotted morsel that she was his. It reassured her as no sweet love song ever could.

“Sir, would you like dessert?”

“I would, yes. What did you plan for tonight?”

“Ice cream–”

“Go in the bedroom. Lay on the bed on your belly. I believe I will have my ice cream in there. I’ll get it myself.”

This was out of their ordinary routine, to be sure, but He was the boss. Casting one curious glance over her shoulder at him, she moved towards the bedroom. He was watching her, that dangerous half-smile on his face. Making a shooing gesture with his fingers, he wordlessly bid her to obey expediently.

She lay as He had directed, across the bed. She wondered if he would put the bowl on her butt, or in the middle of her back. Or maybe splatter it on her and lap it off. There was no way to know, facing away from the door, on her belly. She wanted to look when she heard his footsteps coming, but didn’t dare.

“Good girl.”

And didn’t that make not-looking that much better? She smiled into the coverlet. One ‘good girl’ from him was worth a thousand other platitudes.

Something cold trailed down her spine. She shivered, feeling goose bumps erupt. Felt like the back side of a spoon. She wondered if he had soaked it in his water-glass. It was fucking cold! It felt wonderful considering the heat.

“Ice cream, I believe you mentioned that was for dessert?”

“Yes Sir.” Her  muffled voice came from the bed.

Something freezing cold pressed against her pussy.

“I have a different kind of “iced cream” in mind, my dear slut.”

And He slid the ice dildo into her hot, creamy cunt.