The Ice King On My Hate

by Reese Madison

  I laughed and wiped a tear off my cheek. I hate crying. “Whatever.”

  “So you want to be punished?”

  This time I looked right at him, “I don’t give a shit what you do Trooper Colson. I really, just… don’t care.”

  He nodded once and tightened his grip on my hips pulling me even closer. “Tell me what I want to know or I turn you over my knee.”

  “Go ahead. I can’t tell you my story. I would, but I can’t. Do whatever you want, my Give A Fuck got up and left a long time ago.” I put my hands up in surrender. If he kills me slowly I hope it doesn’t hurt. Although they say physical pain helps take the edge of emotional pain. It would probably take a mauling to take the edge off mine.

  “Get up.” He pushed guiding me, but didn’t let go. “Turn around.”

  I turned and closed my eyes. I hope this is quick.

  He yanked my jeans down making me realize I’ve lost a good ten pounds. I need a belt. Maybe some rope. Rope. No… I’m not that far gone, but close.

  The sting across my ass didn’t do anymore than pull the edge off my anger. The pain on the outside did just like ‘they’ said it would and eased the pain on the inside. It wasn’t until he struck me for the seventh or eighth time that I began to really hurt.

  Thankfully he stopped, but then he rudely shoved me down on the couch on my stomach to rip my jeans off my ankles. “Stay there.”

  Gladly. I hugged the only throw pillow under my head.

  He came back and started applying something cold to my wounds. “Where are you planning to go in the spring?”

  Huh? Oh. “Fairbanks I guess.”

  “Where in Fairbanks?”

  “Wherever I end up. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, if I survive you.” I pressed my face into the pillow.

  “Don’t you have someone looking for you?”

  “No.” That’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know a damn thing. Quinton won’t come up here, he’s brave, but not stupid. Besides, I think I shook him over a year ago.

  “Good.” The way he said that made my skin crawl.

  “What does that mean?”

  He grabbed my hair and turned my head so we’re face to face, “It means I own you. Don’t get up without permission.” He let go and walked away.

  2

  Somehow I fell asleep after a while.

  Waking up proved to be interesting. Scary, but interesting.

  He’s holding my hair at the back of my neck, but not pulling it. Something wet landed on my lower back as he exclaimed, “Fuck yeah.”

  Great. He just jerked off on my back. As unsettling as that is, at least he didn’t rape me. I can handle a little mess a lot better than an assault.

  He let go of my hair and stood to my left. “Stay put.”

  I just closed my eyes and pretended not to be here. Sometimes I wonder what I did in a past life to deserve this life. I refuse to cry again so I set about getting lost in my head.

  I’ve been to some dark places before, but this time I found a whole new layer. If I go deep enough nothing can get through. I can come up for air long enough to eat and pee. I hope.

  I felt him cleaning my back and wondered if I’ll ever feel a more gentle touch again. I doubt it, so I pretended it was a cabana boy instead of this big asshole. I still don’t know his first name.

  “Get up.” He ordered somewhere in the background. I’m seeing sand and tall grass moving with the wind.

  “Jasmine. Get up.”

  Do I have to? Oh. Probably. If I don’t he’ll do something I won’t like. Ugh.

  “I didn’t hurt you, get up.” He snapped losing patience with me.

  I pushed up and rolled to my side trying to focus. Okay. I can do this. No harm done, just a sore ass. I’ve had worse.

  “Go get cleaned up and put on the clothes I laid out by the sink. Do as you’re told. Now.”

  Oh God he’s exhausting. I did what I was told simply because I have to pee and don’t think I can take another spanking. Once again the mirror hates me. I flicked myself off and took a shower.

  About halfway through my shower he moved the curtain aside and stepped in behind me.

  I froze with the water running over my soapy washcloth.

  “Turn around.” His order made me close my eyes.

  I turned using tiny unimposing steps. The water hit my ass full force and tears welled up behind my eyes. Now that shit hurts!!

  His hands took over my neck then ran down my chest to stop over my heart. “This is mine now.”

  I searched his eyes trying to figure out exactly what he means. “I don’t understand.”

  His hand came up and cupped my jaw as he lowered to drive those cold green-brown eyes into mine, “You belong to me now.”

  “Like a pet?” I asked confused.

  “Like I own you and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  “You can’t just own a person.” I argued.

  “I can, and I do. Do you want to go to a homeless shelter in Fairbanks?”

  “No, I can’t.” Quinton has every shelter on this continent looking for me. Again, keeping that to myself.

  “So what happens if I take you down and drop you off on the streets?” He’s challenging me to make his point.

  “I’ll figure it out like I always do.”

  “And end up raped and murdered in some back alley. Is that what you want?”

  “I’ve survived the streets before, I’ll do it again.”

  “Where were these streets?”

  “California to Seattle. I bought a truck there and drove up until it died south of Fairbanks. I hitched a ride to town and another one up here.” He knows the rest.

  “California to Seattle. You do realize where you are now don’t you?” He reached around and shut the water off before handing me a towel. “Doesn’t matter now anyway. If nobody is looking for you then you won’t be missed. Go make dinner.” He let go and motioned for me to walk around him.

  I did but then stopped and turned to look back, “I’m not on the pill.” I figure he should know for when he rapes me. “Just use a condom so I don’t end up raising some kid on the streets when you’re done with me.”

  “You won’t be on the streets. Do as you’re told.” He turned the water back on as if nothing I said was important.

  “I don’t want a kid.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you want. Go.” He waved me off over his shoulder.

  It took a great deal of effort not to go to the table by the front door and grab that gun. As much as I’d like to put a bullet in his head, I can’t bring myself to do it.

  At least I got to rinse the soap out of my hair before he stole the shower out from under me.

  The next few days weren’t so bad. He ignored me, I ignored him, for the most part anyway. We just existed in the same space with little effort or stress.

  I’m still miserable, but at least I’m not out there in the snow being mauled by a bear.

  I’m rolling bear meat into balls to go with spaghetti as he comes up behind me and takes my hips in his hands. I close my eyes and freeze because I’m not sure what to do, or what he’s going to do.

  He pushed my jeans down so they fell to my ankles. “You need to start eating more.”

  I just nodded as his right hand came around to find the little man in the boat.

  He must be working his jeans with his left hand. “Don’t come without asking permission.”

  I almost laughed, “No worries there.” I regretted the words before they were all the way out.

  He shifted and pushed his fingers into me. “I can make you come for me, but you will ask my permission first, or you will be punished.”

  I closed my eyes and bit back my comment. I hope he just gets this over with.

 
It took longer than I liked, but he finally came on the crook of my lower back. “Come.” He ordered.

  I’ve been fighting the urge simply to spite him. “I can’t.” I lied willing off the desire.

  He drove his hand up my shirt and grabbed my left breast pinching my nipple hard. “Now.”

  Whatever happened wasn’t my fault. Everything exploded leaving me weak-kneed and angry. The release was welcome, and yet not. So many conflicting emotions! What is wrong with me??

  He made sure I felt how wet I am before saying into my ear. “This is mine. I control every move you make, every pleasure, every pain.”

  I whimpered at his words feeling utterly helpless for the first time in my life. I’ve been lonely, hungry, exhausted, and angry. Never helpless.

  “Turn around.” He took his hand away and guided me as I stepped out of my jeans instead of tripping over them.

  I watched as he took my arm and looked for a vein. “What are you doing?”

  “Blood test.” He reached over and picked up a syringe off the counter.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t provide an answer, just drew two vials and left me half naked in the kitchen to finish dinner. I really hate my life, and now my arm hurts.

  Every now and then he gets a call to go out and deal with police business. Usually it’s someone that drank too much and wandered off into the darkness. The snow is very disorienting because everything looks the same.

  I wouldn’t mind going out and getting lost sometimes. The only chances I get to escape are when he’s out on these calls. Unfortunately the snow and freezing temperatures would kill me inside of five minutes. I don’t have the proper gear to survive this terrain.

  After six weeks of living with Trooper Colson I still don’t know his name, and I still hate the fucker. He makes a point of coming on me once a day, which I guess isn’t the worst that could happen to me, but it’s getting old.

  Actually, what’s getting old is the part where I get nothing out of it. I was informed after the first time that if I wanted pleasure from him again I’d have to beg for it. I got so mad I didn’t speak to him for three days.

  I don’t get any time alone to fix the urges he stirs up then abandons, which is making things worse. He turns me on then shuts me down. I don’t think he realizes how much I want to shoot him right now.

  He’s finally out of the house giving me a perfect chance to resolve these unfulfilled issues, and I got nothing. Not even the desire. I fucking hate him. He’s breaking me, inside and out.

  When he came back flinging boots and snow I lost my mind and threw a raw half-peeled potato hitting him perfectly upside the head.

  He looked up just in time to get hit in the shoulder with the second one. The look on his face when three and four hit will probably get me through some really dark times to come.

  He’s in shock that I would do something so bold as to throw food at him, especially hard potatoes that probably feel like being pelted with rocks. He caught number six and I knew my fun was over. There will be hell to pay on my part later, but it’s well worth it.

  “Shit.” I backed up as he approached. “I’m guessing ‘sorry’ isn’t going to help my cause?”

  He tossed the potato in the sink and closed in cupping my face as his eyes drove icily into mine, “Why are you throwing food at me?”

  “Because I hate you?” “You’ve hated me for a month and a half. Why are you assaulting me with potatoes now?” His mouth is so close to mine I’m beginning to think he might kiss me.

  “You keep leaving me hanging.” I whispered afraid to move.

  He lifted up seeing right through me, “Tried to fix yourself did you?”

  I felt my face heat up, “It’s not fair.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  Tears are rolling down my cheeks against my will. “I want this frustration to end!”

  “Ask me. Nicely.” He ground out tightening his grip on my jaw.

  “Please.” I begged. “Can you please make it stop?”

  “Make what stop?” He worked my jeans down with his right hand while his left remained on my jaw.

  “This painful ache you keep leaving me with.”

  “Ask nicely.” He ordered and grabbed my ass so hard I bit my lip.

  “Please. Please make it stop.”

  “No. You’ll submit to me first for your defiance.” He let go and grabbed my wrist to pull me to the other end of the mobile home into his office. I stumbled getting my jeans off over my ankles. He pointed to the floor. “Kneel.”

  I swallowed the huge lump in my throat and asked. “Are you going to hurt me?”

  “I said kneel.” He replied tossing a pillow from the small couch on the floor at my feet.

  I knelt because I really don’t have a choice. I could fight him, but he’s too big and would eventually over power me. A kick or punch from me won’t be enough to make him flinch, let alone take him down. Not that I know what to do if I do manage to get away from him. There’s fifty fucking feet of snow out there.

  “Lift your hair.” He turned back to me with what looks like a collar.

  I pushed my hair up and closed my eyes.

  He fastened whatever this is around my neck. “The last person worthy of this collar died because she didn’t listen to me. I had no intention of collaring another woman. Do not disappoint me Jasmine, I will follow you to the grave and punish you accordingly. This is the last time goddammit, the last fucking time.” He’s talking to me, but not there at the end.

  I opened my eyes when he lifted my chin. “I am your Master now. Stand up.”

  I stood feeling a little shaky and unsure.

  He stepped into me and put my back to the wall as he quickly made his way to putting two fingers deep inside me. His breath is hot in my ear, “My name is Fletcher, but you will call me Master. Say it.”

  I came immediately, “Master.”

  “Again.” He hooked his fingers and got me again.

  I can barely think as my body happily gives up some serious tension at his touch. “Master.” It was more of a whisper than before.

  “Again. Louder.” Holy shit he’s good with his hands!!

  “Master!!” I came so hard this time my knees buckled.

  He bit me on the jawbone before informing me, “Now you’re mine. By the end of the winter you’ll be mine in every way. There is no out for you. Leave me, and I will find you. When I find you, you’re going to wish I was nice enough to kill you by the time I’m done with you.” He took his hand back and pushed both fingers into my mouth. “Bite me and I’ll bite back. Have I made myself clear?”

  I nodded carefully unsure if I like the taste of myself on his fingers or not. It’s… different.

  He ran his fingers over my chin and down my throat. “Now you’ll tell me who you really are.”

  I swallowed, “I would if I could, but the less you know the better. It’s safer for everyone, not just me and not just you.”

  His hand covered the collar basically holding me by the throat without pressure. “You don’t make decisions for me. You do what I tell you. Whom are you running from?”

  I closed my eyes hard. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Can’t or won’t? Look at me.” It took a lot of effort for me to open my eyes. His eyes are intent on drilling into my soul. “Tell me. Now.

  “You can have who I am now, but you can’t have my past. The less you know about the person who no longer exists, the better. There’s been enough suffering.”

  “You don’t decide what I can and cannot have. I take what I want. You will tell me.” He let go and stepped back, “Go finish dinner, I’m done with you for now.”

  He became even colder towards me after that day. For the next couple weeks he barely acknowledged my existence other than to command me to cook for hi
m.

  My one saving grace is the computer. He lets me use his laptop pretty much whenever I want. I’ve taken to reading more books on surviving Alaska.

  For some reason he’s pacing the living room like a caged tiger right now.

  Normally I keep my mouth shut but he’s driving me nuts. “Permission to speak Master?”

  “If you must.” He replied barely acknowledging me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m bored, horny as fucking hell, and need to get out of this fucking house. The only good thing about living in Phoenix was the ability to go out whenever I wanted.”

  The fact that he actually strung two sentences together to answer my question struck me stupid. I can’t believe it. Did we just have a real conversation? Almost. Tread carefully.

  “I can’t help with the cabin fever, and you scare me too much to even think about offering to help with the other. I’m sorry.” I looked back to the laptop figuring I should quit while I’m ahead.

  “The sex I can deal with, it’s being cooped up in this fucking shoebox that kills me. I used to spend my winters at Denise’s.”

  Jealousy drove an ugly stake into my chest for some stupid reason. “I’m sure she’d be happy to take you back. I can handle being here alone.”

  “I don’t fucking want her. Her place was just is bigger, it had windows with a view. This is more like a storage unit and office than a home. I can’t fucking breathe in here.”

  “Maybe you should get a doublewide? I don’t know. I’m going to shut up now before you get mad at me.” I closed the laptop and set it aside to slide down under my blankets.

  “I need a fucking bed.”

  “No shit.” I laughed, “Sorry, this couch hurts my back.”

  “Mine too. I need to make a run that will cause me to be gone for a solid day.” He left it hanging as if I’m supposed to say something.

  So I asked, “Is that bad?”