Fiction – Ice Cold Training for the Submissive

BDSM Sex Story

“Is everything in order for tonight, slave?” Master asked as he came to stand behind her in the kitchen.

“Yes, Sir. All is ready. The soup is boiling, the steak is ready to be grilled, and the dessert can be served straight from the freezer.”

“Good. It definitely smells good here. You’re not gonna disappoint me tonight, are you?”

“No, Sir. I wouldn’t dare.” Slave was going to do everything in her power to please both Master and their guest. She would never let her Master down.

“Is this what you’re wearing tonight?”
The tone of his voice suggested it was a wrong choice.

Slave looked down at her tight summer dress, now shielded by an apron. She had thought it was appropriate for a dinner party.

Master pulled up the skirt. “I like your g-string. Does your bra match?”

“Of course it does, Sir,” she replied with a giggle. She was very mindful of always wearing attractive lingerie whenever she was around Master.

He felt up her butt. She arched her back and leaned into him. He gave her a quick kiss on the neck before he slapped her ass. “Good girl.”

The doorbell rang. Slave wiped her hands and turned down the gas on the stove.

“I’ll get it. You continue cooking. I’ll show Waylon to the table. Make sure you introduce yourself properly to him after he has settled in.”

“Yes, Master.”

What could Master mean by that? The man was here to have dinner, nothing more, right? Right?

Their voices and the scraping of chairs on the floor flowed into the kitchen. Master’s friend had indeed arrived. A jolt of excitement went through slave. Tonight was another opportunity to show how well she served her Master.

A few minutes later, when she felt it was the right moment, she entered the dining room.

On the opposite side of the table from Master sat a man; he seemed to be in his thirties. He was looking sharp in a light blue button-up shirt which enhaced his bright blue eyes and contrasted his dark brown hair.

When slave entered the room, he looked up in surprise, and his features broke into a large smile.

“Well, good evening.”

“Good evening, sir, so nice to make your acquaintance,” slave said and bowed her head. 
She glanced at Master, who nodded in agreement.

“How lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.
I actually brought you a gift.” The man picked up a small package from the table and handed it to the slave.

“Oh, thank you, that wasn’t necessary.” Uncertainly she looked at her Master.

He nodded. “Go on, open it.”

She carefully peeled off the silver wrapping paper. At first, she couldn’t make out what it was. It was bright red, and it felt like silicone. It was shaped like two red lips with a strap attached to it.

“Try it on.” Master could hardly hide his glee at the object.

Slave took it out of the packaging. She turned it round in her hands. It was indeed a gag with the two cartoony large red lips to hide and replace her real ones, with only a tiny gap between them.

Master helped her to secure the strap around her head. When she next faced him, he erupted in a burst of genuine laughter. “Looks perfect, doll. Go show our friend.”

Slave went around the table and approached the man who had gifted her the gag. She kept her gaze demurely down.

Waylon, too, gave her a big smile. “I’m glad it fits and suits you so well.”

She nodded her thanks.

“How’s our dinner?” her Master asked.

She nodded curtly and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Right, a gag. This was not how she had foreseen spending the evening. How was she even going to eat?

She took a deep breath — through her nose — and wiped away the first spots of drool already appearing. She added soup to two bowls and brought them to the dining room.

“Where is your food, slave?” Master asked right before she left the room. “Go pick up a bowl for yourself. I’ll remove the gag so you can eat.”

After a quick acknowledgement, she went off to retrieve another bowl of soup.

“Come here,” Master said and removed the gag. Slave was happy she could close her mouth again and was quick to thank her Master. He placed the gag next to him on the table.

Slave mainly kept to herself as the two men ate and chatted. They discussed work stuff and complicated world politics, so nothing she concerned herself with. Her world consisted of pleasing her Master, taking care of him and his needs. That was all she needed.

After the soup, she served the men steak with roasted potatoes and vegetables. Slave enjoyed how the food had turned out. She hoped the men enjoyed it too.

When both Master and Waylon put their cutlery down, Master turned to slave as he picked up the gag: “Come here. I think you’ve had enough to eat.”

She swallowed away her disappointment and obediently opened her mouth for the dreaded instrument.

“Now go and get our desserts. It’s ice cream, right? Also, bring one extra bowl,” he added after she nodded.

Slave’s stomach jittered as she added the finishing touches to the dishes. She had the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to like this, and yet the prospect was equally exciting.

When she put the dessert in front of the men, Master pulled at her dress. “Take this off. We’re going to make you part of the final course, so we have to see what we’re working with.”

“I can’t wait to see what’s underneath,” Waylon said.

Slave removed the dress and revealed her lingerie underneath, a pink lace bra with half-cups and a tiny G-string.

“You weren’t lying when you said she was hot,” Waylon said in wonder.

“Of course I wasn’t. Slave, I want you to lie down on the table and spread your legs.”

She did as she was told.

“Eat your ice cream, Waylon, while we enjoy the view.”

Slave’s breathing intensified, expecting the cold touch of ice cream any second now. She wasn’t disappointed.

Master stroked his cold spoon over the top of her breast. Her body twitched in reaction.

“Hold still, slave. You’re our decoration. Waylon, you’re close to her other breast. Wanna try?”

“Naturally.” His spoon still held some ice cream as he traced it over her breast. She tried to keep still but hissed at the feeling anyway.

“This is fun,” he said as he scooped some more ice cream on the spoon.

He traced long paths with the cream over her belly. Master left the room but returned in an instant. Slave shrieked as she felt more ice being placed on her body. “Ice cubes,” Master explained.

Soon her body was covered in traces of water and cream. “Let’s see if she is still enjoying this.” Master plunged his fingers inside her pussy.

“Oomph,” she exclaimed through the gag.

“Oh, yes, she is still wet enough. This girl does enjoy some humiliation, doesn’t she? Let’s up the game.” He removed his fingers and replaced them with a glass dildo.

She shrieked and twisted at the sensation. Waylon looked at her Master questioningly.

“This dildo has spent some time with the ice cubes,” Master said and pumped the dildo even deeper.

“You’re mean,” Waylon remarked with an evil grin. He rubbed his groin. “All that moaning and twisting does make me hard.” 

“Maybe she can help,” Master said and continued to rock the dildo in her pussy. “Just a little more.”

Slowly slave’s moans had transformed from being in shock to being in pleasure. This was torture no longer.
Master removed the dildo. “Slave, Waylon here has the perfect tool to warm you up. Are you okay with that?”

He looked her in the eye, and she understood what he meant. Slave had done this before and was okay with it. Her body belonged to Master and was available to his friends too if he so decided.

From a nearby closet, Master produced a condom and threw it to Waylon. “Cover yourself up and get in.”

After a brief expression of surprise, Waylon lowered his pants and put on the condom.

Master helped slave move so her pussy was closer to the edge of the table.

Waylon hesitated while he rubbed his penis through her labia.

“Are you really sure?”

Both Master and slave nodded. Waylon placed his cock at the entrance to her pussy and thrust it straight in. “Oh fuck, she does need some warming up.”

Master grinned. “Then you have work to do.”

Waylon slowly pumped in and out of her. “Want me to fuck you back to temperature?” He increased his speed until both of them moaned. “Oh, the boobs, the gag, so pretty,” he uttered.

For a long time, you heard nothing but his balls hitting her ass with every stroke until finally, he reached his orgasm deep inside of her.

“I think you’re hot enough now,” he said. He pulled out and removed his condom.

Master took off slave’s gag. “You know what to do.”

Slave sat up. “Thank you, kind sir, for using me for your needs.”

Waylon gave her a half-smile. “You’re very welcome. This is definitely a dinner to remember.”

“You’ve done well, slave.” Master kissed her on her forehead. “Now, do you want your ice cream?”

“No!” she exclaimed in panic. “I mean, no Sir, I’d rather not. I think I’ve had enough ice for today.”

Master grinned. “I understand. Go clean up.”

Slave got up and began her task. This had been some evening. Yes, she had been used, but in the best way possible and most important of all: she had made Master proud. What more could she ask for? This was all she wanted.

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