Chapter 7: Fire and Ice

What had been an erotic cross between Barbie, Gumby, and a Victoria’s Secret model, turned, in a glance, into the Ice Bitch from Nordic Hell. It seemed natural that the black riding crop she had teased me with was in her hand. I had no idea how long it had been since I had paid any attention to my body’s aches and pains, but they all came rushing back to me. I hurt. Lord how I hurt. My shoulders screamed from bearing my weight. My calves were cramped from trying to keep the weight off my shoulders, and everything between ached and demanded attention.

It did not seem so important. My whole attention focused on the end of the riding crop. Naturally, Cynthia wanted to play with it. She tickled my nose. She flicked lightly on my nipples. It was the first time I ever really appreciated my nipples as erogenous points. It would have been something else to appreciate in my new clarity, but Cynthia gave me no time to think about it.

She stepped close and ran the braided leather up and down the inside of my thighs and across the underside of my balls. If that was not enough, I got my first good whiff. Lord, she smelled luscious. There was the expected musk of a light sweat, the smell of a recent shower, and that indefinable scent that says female of breeding age. I could have her for three meals a day.

She stepped back and played with my ears and the hair on my neck. Even though I had no range of movement, I squirmed. She stepped to one side and ran the tip over my bare ass. I had time to think that Justin would prep up perfectly this way before I reamed out his ass.

Cynthia made eye contact and raised the crop high. I wanted to watch the crop, but her eyes skewered mine. I could still see the crop in my peripheral vision. Down it came and ... flicked Little Jay on the head. My compass had been pointing north so long that the relief of the orgasm almost knocked me out. My whole body surged as my wad shot through the heavy fabric of the jock strap. All my strength went with it. When it was gone, I sagged against the restraints, spent in more ways than one.

She reached out and patted my cheek like she might a child who recited his lessons well. “Richard, Paul, please let him down. I think we have sufficient footage for our purposes. You can get him cleaned up through there.” They removed the wood stick and carried me to the shower room, where they dumped me on a bench and undid the locks.

I was vaguely glad someone had brought the key. Paul and Richard removed all the gear, but they left the cum filled jock for me. It must have been five minutes before I had the strength to stand and strip it off. Even the cold water barely revived me. Eventually, I managed to dress for the street and went outside to find Sean’s limo waiting. I didn’t ask. I just crawled in the back and told the driver to take me to the hotel. He never said a word, but he kept glancing at the mirror as he drove. The doorman at the hotel gave me the same expression as I waved off his offered hand.

I must have made it to bed because Justin woke me when he came in the next morning.