Page 25 of Whiteout

The whip falls again. I can feel the heat rising on my skin, the sting of the leather.

"Three."

The icicle returns to my ass, gliding across my skin. The cold ice soothing the burn and numbing the pain. I'm a mess of conflicting sensations—pain, pleasure, fear, and desire all rolled into one. I'm burning up with anticipation, my skin still stinging from the strikes. I arch my back, pushing my ass toward him, silently asking for more.

Then Kris moves the icicle lower, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A shiver runs through me, and I instinctively spread my legs wider.

The icicle stills for a moment, and I hold my breath. He begins to trace the icicle along my folds, the wetness already gathered there betraying my arousal.

"You're so fucking wet," Kris whispers, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of my neck. His fingers gently spread me open, leaving me fully exposed to the cold and to him.

He holds the icicle just outside my entrance, teasing me, never quite giving me what I crave. "Please."

Kris chuckles, "Please what, Cherry? Tell me what you want."

"Please, I need more," I plead, my cheeks burning with shame and desire.

I feel the icicle push into me slowly, inch by inch. I gasp atthe sensation— it's so cold that it's almost painful, but it only heightens my arousal. I push back against it, wanting it deeper.

The icicle twists inside of me, sending shocks of pleasure throughout my body. This mix of extreme sensations is overwhelming. But then it's gone, leaving me feeling empty, aching and wanting more.

"If you want it back inside you, you're going to have to beg me for it."

"Yes, please, I want it," I say almost breathlessly, my hips moving involuntarily as I grind against his hand. I'm so close to the edge that any little touch could send me spiraling over.

With a devilish smile, Kris obliges, slides the icicle slowly back into my pussy. I cry out, the sensation of being stretched and filled, even by something so thin and cold, is immense.

He pulls the icicle out slowly, torturously, then inserts it again. In and out. A steady rhythm.

"Please, Kris," I beg, needing something more, something to push me over the edge.

I'm so lost in the sensations Kris is creating inside of me; the crack of his whip startles me. This time, it lands on the back of my upper thighs, just below where he is teasing me withthe icicle. Instead of pain, I feel a wave of pleasure that takes my breath away. I let out a moan, wanting more, needing to feel the whip again.

"Count," Kris reminds me, his voice pulling me back into the moment.

"Four."

He brings the whip down again.

"Five," I choke out, knowing the punishment is over. But I'm not sure I want it to be. I want more.

All my senses seem heightened. I become aware of every nerve ending in my body. I ache for his touch, craving more of the sensations he's invoking in me. I want to feel his hands on me, possessing me.

Every part of me wants to be claimed by him, taken by him. If I was being honest with myself, I wouldn't care if he was the Huntsman, or not. I'm in too deep now. I want to explore this side of myself that I never knew existed.

"Naughty girls need to be punished, but they also get rewarded if they please me. And Cherry, you've fucking pleased me."

I whimper, a mix of anticipation and apprehension coursing through me. I have no idea what Kris will do next, and that excites me more than anything.

"Spread your legs wide for me." His fingers trace the path of the whip while he fucks me with the icicle, sending shivers through my body. "Do you know how sexy you look like this, spread out wide for me on the ground? My marks across your pretty little ass. So willing to take your punishment and eager for more?"

"Yes," I whisper, my cheeks flaming with desire and embarrassment.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still reverently caressing the marks left by the whip. "Now ask me for your reward."

"Please, Kris," my voice sounds desperate even to me, as the icicle withdraws. "Can I have my reward?"

Kris continues to weave this spell over me. Time seems to stand still as he explores my body, leaving no inch of exposed skin untouched. I'm alive, trembling on the edge between pleasure and pain.

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