The Ice King On My Hate

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The Ice King On My Hate Page 5

by Reese Madison


  I stuck my tongue out at him. He ignored me and picked up the television remote.

  3

  I earned my way back into the snowsuit and a trip to the barn within a week. I’m learning that eating until I’m stuffed full and obeying him without hesitation gets me a long way.

  Calling him ‘Master’ helps too, he seems to like that more than anything else I do, even cooking. I used to wonder if he even liked my cooking because he eats so fast every time. I’ve noticed lately he’ll linger over my pot roast to make sure has room for an extra serving. We rarely has leftovers anyway, but I’ve caught him practically licking his plate the last two times I made it.

  We’re halfway through the winter months and for once I can see sunlight! It’s not very bright, but it’s better than nothing. I feel like I’ve been living in a cold dark cave for a lot longer than four months.

  Fletcher is tossing logs up on the front porch so I stuck my head through the door and inhaled the clean, crisp, fresh oxygen. My nose tickled at the briskness of the air. “Oh!!” I put my fingers to my nose as I got smacked with a face full of snow. “Hey!!!”

  I ducked back inside and shut the door. “Jerk!!” I yelled through the closed door. It opened making me jump back. Two more snow-bombs got me before the door closed again.

  I laughed for the first time in longer than I care to try and remember. Maybe Master has a sense of humor after all. I decided not to test my theory and cleaned up the watery mess.

  Time is dragging worse than ever now. I keep telling myself we’re more than halfway through the winter and to suck it up. If other people can do this, then so can I. Right? I think so. I hope so.

  I still think about leaving in the Spring, but I doubt more than ever it will happen. Fletcher hasn’t been paying me much mind, but I know if I mention leaving I’ll get in big trouble.

  It’s not his spankings that scare me. I’ve earned a few now so I know they just sting for a while until the salve kicks in. As far as fooling around goes, he’s backed way off. By way off I mean once a week or so, sometimes more, sometimes less.

  We’re down to three months left of winter and I think I might survive this after all. I’m not so sure about Fletcher.

  “I thought you grew up here?” I asked when he complained again about feeling like he was in a shoebox.

  “Not in this shit box.” He moved the curtain aside and growled at the view.

  “You could punch a bunch of holes in the walls, I’ll cover them with plastic wrap to keep the cold out.” I’m kidding of course, but he’s not amused.

  “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

  “It was a joke.”

  “Do I look like I’m in the mood for your jokes?” He’s turning his frustrations on me.

  “Sorry Master, I’ll shut up now.”

  “You will if I tell you to. Get up.” He’s in front of me now.

  I stood up from the couch with very little space between us.

  “Undress for me. Slowly.”

  He’s seen me naked, or mostly naked, enough times I just obey. Not only that but I’m kind of happy he’s letting me distract him. The pacing and grumbling is getting old, and it feels good to think I might be able to help.

  His fingertips shadowed mine the whole time. He barely touched me for what seemed like forever.

  He finally stopped and pointed to the floor. “Grab that pillow behind you for your knees.”

  I did and went to my knees. This kind of thing would have terrified me six months ago, but I know now he just likes the view. I don’t understand why such a big man needs to put a woman on her knees, but since he’s not hurting me I just play along.

  “Touch me.” He ordered.

  This is a first, he told me once he was in control, not me. I’ve never touched his cock, or had him in my mouth. He does his own handiwork, which suites me just fine.

  Or did. Now I can’t wait to touch him. I ran my hands up his thighs and looked up for visual and verbal permission. He’s watching me intently. “Go ahead.”

  I chose not to ask what would happen if I said no. Somehow I know if he didn’t think I was ready, or if he couldn’t trust me, he wouldn’t be telling me to do this.

  I looked back down to the longest, thickest, cock I’ve ever seen and licked his tip as I wrapped my right hand around his base. This is the first time I’ve ever lingered and played with a man like this. Giving men oral has never been something I’ve enjoyed, until now.

  He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled just hard enough to watch as I milk him with my mouth and hands. His balls drew up and his shaft began to throb. I got a mouthful, but managed to take him without gagging or choking.

  “Get up.” He took my hands and placed them on his shoulders as I stood up. “Keep your hands where they are. You know what happens when you defy me.”

  “Yes Master.” I think I squeaked with anticipation.

  He turned and lifted my leg placing my foot on the coffee table. With one swipe of his fingers I was busted.

  “Open your mouth and show me your tongue.”

  I did.

  He gave me a rare lingering look into his eyes as he put my juices on his tongue. “Your body betrays you Jasmine.”

  No shit, it has for months. It’s gotten so bad I get wet the second he walks in the room sometimes. Since I can’t reply with his fingers on my tongue I just blinked back at him.

  “Don’t move.” He ran his fingers down between my breasts and over my stomach to where I’m exposed for him. “Close your eyes.”

  I close them tight as his fingers pushed hard and fast into me. “I want to fuck you like this.” He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in. “Hard.” He began thrusting his fingers in and out in long pounding strokes. “Fast.”

  “Master!!” I cried out just before I lost control of my body.

  “Nice try. I own you. I own this.” He started pounding me harder and harder. “Say it again when you come for me this time Jasmine.” His left hand has a tight grip on my right ass cheek as he continues to pound me. “Your tits bounce nicely when I fuck you. I look forward to watching my cock make them bounce.”

  “Master!!” It’s completely unfair how his harsh words get to me like this.

  “Watch your hands Jasmine.”

  “OH!!” I dug my fingernails into his shoulders to hold them in place and felt the fabric give, and then his flesh.

  “Fuck yeah. Now we’re talking.” He stopped and grabbed his cock to come on my thigh away from where it could get me pregnant. Thank God he’s thinking about that.

  “Can I open my eyes?”

  “Yes.” He helped me over to the couch and pulled his shirt off to toss in my lap. “Get cleaned up, and dressed. One more like that and I’m going to forget I don’t want kids.”

  I sat back too wiped out to think straight. Once again I turned to comedy to keep this thin thread of sanity in check. “Do they make condoms in Horse Size?”

  “I break condoms. That’s why I was fucking Denise, she was clean and on the pill. You’re clean, but I don’t have a prescription for you yet.”

  “Is that what the blood test was all about a while back?”

  “Yes, among other things.” He came back with the salve he uses on my ass after a spanking and sat handing it to me over his shoulder. “Put that on where you got me.”

  I took the bottle and looked over the small cuts. “Sorry about that. I’ve never… I’m going to stop talking now.” The Ice King is not someone you talk about your intimate feelings with. I’ve never been very good at talking about this kind of stuff anyway, even with the few girlfriends I had before my life blew up.

  “Never what?”

  “You’re different, let’s just put it that way.”

  ‘Different how?”

  “You’re n
ot going to let me off the hook here are you?” I laughed because I should have known better than to open my big mouth.

  “Never. Tell me what you mean by ‘different’.” He insisted.

  I finished putting the salve on and set it aside. “All done. I just meant I’ve never been with a guy like you. You scare the hell out of me, but you also make me feel things I’ve never felt before. I didn’t even know…” I put my hands over my face trying to hide. “I really need to shut up.”

  “What didn’t you know Jasmine?” He turned and went after my feet. This is only the third time he’s rubbed my feet.

  “Oh my God, okay fine. I’ll say it. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so well-fucked without actually, you know, doing it.”

  “And by ‘doing it’ you mean fucking?” He’s teasing me now.

  I tried to pull my feet away, “Yes.”

  He held my feet firmly and gave me a stern look, “These are mine, you don’t take them away, I’ll give them back when I’m done. That’s how this works.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out what this is.” I confessed.

  “This is me being your Master, and you being my slave. Some people call them pets. I prefer to use your name.”

  “Does everyone up here know about this?” I only ask because Arlene seemed to know a lot.

  “I don’t presume to know what they know. I know I won’t hide my lifestyle. Until I collared you I’d forgotten how much I needed this. I missed it.” He admitted there at the end.

  I thought for a moment before asking my next question, “So this is for real? I’m your slave?”

  “Yes. I’ll see to all you needs, medical and otherwise. In return you’re going to be a good girl and do as you’re told.”

  “Do I get a say in anything?”

  “Depends on your definition of ‘say’.” He picked up the television remote.

  I know better than to ask if saying I want out of this craziness was an option he’d consider, but I couldn’t bring myself to bring about the fallout. Instead I went with humor again. “Can we watch something besides sports or fishing?”

  “Fishing is a sport, or it can be.” He tossed the remote on my lap after hitting the power button to turn on the flat screen. “You can have it until seven.”

  “Thank you Master.” Between the sex and this small victory I did a little dance in my seat. Maybe I can do this after all.

  Fletcher is out on another ‘stumbler’ call. Agnes gets pretty mad when one of her flock goes stumbling drunk out into the snow. She’s nice enough to radio me and tell me when Fletcher’s made contact and is making his way home.

  This gives me time to get some towels down on the floor and a fresh pot of coffee going. If it’s time to eat I heat up his plate too. Mostly it gives me a chance to brace for the impact that is Fletcher Colson.

  Bull in a china cabinet is an understatement. I understand now why he doesn’t have many things laying around, he’d break them just walking by. Aside from taking up more than his share of the room he’s started randomly feeling me up.

  It comes out of nowhere, and doesn’t always lead to anything more. He just grabs a handful or five, then moves along. Or he’ll linger and I’ll end up naked and sticky afterwards.

  All in all it’s livable. He’s still not very nice, but he’s dialed back the rude comments. He slipped and called me an idiot under his breath a couple weeks ago when I did something stupid. I admit it was stupid, but the comment was uncalled for.

  If he had been trying to be funny I wouldn’t have minded, but he was dead serious. It pissed me off to the point I stopped speaking to him. At first he thought he’d won the jackpot, but then he decided he’d had enough of my pouting.

  That was the longest spanking of my life, but at least he hasn’t slipped up since. In fact I think he gave me a backwards compliment the other day, but I’m not sure I heard him right, so who knows.

  I thanked Agnes for the head’s up and went to prepare for The Ice King. I call him that or His Highness in my head. One of these days I’m going to slip and say it out loud, then I’ll really get in trouble.

  I can’t help myself though. I still don’t like the guy, but I hate him less than I did even three months ago. At least he’s good with his hands, otherwise I might have lost my mind by now. What those hands can do to me is unlike anything I’ve ever known.

  I saw the lights from his truck cross one of the front windows and dropped the last towel. Arrow is nice enough to shake by the door, His Highness shed his boots, clothes, snow, and gear from the front door to the kitchen and back to his couch. Of course he did it again. I just shook my head and resisted the urge to dump the hot coffee on his head instead of handing it to him.

  He caught me shaking my head, “What?”

  “You’re a mess. What did you do before I came along? Because I damn sure don’t see you cleaning up after yourself.”

  “That’s what slaves are for.” He tapped my butt with the back of his hand. “Don’t bitch, at least it wasn’t you that froze to death today.”

  “Oh shit. I’m sorry. Agnes didn’t tell me.” She insists if Troop wants me to know about his day he’ll tell me himself. She claims she only warns me because she wants to know he’s coming home to a hot meal.

  “When do you talk to Agnes?”

  “On the radio. I was bored one day and found her talking to someone else while I was frequency surfing. Now we have our own channel.” The weather kills cell phone service more than not, and Agnes can’t text. Well, she can, but it hurts her fingers.

  “Did I say you could do that?”

  “No, but I didn’t ask so it doesn’t count.” Hey, I can try. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I actually thought you knew since it’s an open radio channel.”

  “What are you saying on the radio?” He took the cover off his plate and remained standing with me in the kitchen to eat. Usually he goes to his couch and waits for me to serve him.

  “We talk about food mostly, and she explained the cache to me.” A cache is a tower that holds food up and away from bears and wolves. “Stuff like that. I don’t talk about anything personal, she wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. She’s nice enough, but I’m not sure she likes me.”

  “If she didn’t she wouldn’t be talking to you at all.” He said between bites.

  “Well, whatever. I’ve gotten some great recipes from her.”

  He nodded towards the bathroom, “Go start me a shower. I want you in there with me.”

  Turns out he’d fallen and hit his shoulder pretty hard. “I think it’s dislocated.” I said as I wiped water from my face. Showering with him doesn’t happen very often because he runs us out of hot water due to his wandering hands. Seeing him in all his naked glory is also rare, and distracting.

  “I was afraid of that. Think you’re strong enough to set it for me?”

  “Six months ago yes, since then I’ve lost too much muscle mass. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to lift a paperweight anymore.”

  He turned and looked at me, “What’s all that Yoga shit I see you doing?”

  “That keeps me toned, not strong. I’m going to need to look up how to do this, it was only briefly covered in-” I waved it off before I said too much. “Okay, stay here under the heat.”

  “Giving me orders slave?” He asked trying to sound like his usual asshole self, but I can hear the pain in his voice.

  “Yes.” I need to do this before he runs out of hot water.

  It took me two minutes to get a refresher course online. I’m kind of surprised the internet is working, it’s out more than not.

  When I got back his forehead was against the tile wall along with the hand of the uninjured arm. “I think you should lay down for this. Come lay on the couch.”

  “Turn the water off.”

  I did. When I of
fered him a towel he refused it and headed straight for the couch. He looked like he was in even more pain now as he eased down getting my blankets all wet with his hair. The man’s an ass even when he’s hurt.

  I hesitated before sitting down to do this. “You’re not going to hit me are you?”

  “No Jasmine. Set the damn thing already.” Once a grump, always a grump. At least he has good reason this time.

  I sat and braced my feet against the couch. “Okay, I need you to give me your arm. This is going to hurt.”

  “No shit.”

  “Be nice or I’ll use your ribs to brace my feet.”

  “Jasmine.” He warned palming his face with his good hand, the other is swelling from lack of blood flow.

  I massaged and felt around on his shoulder to make sure when I do this I’m doing it right. It might take a couple times to get it right. When I knew I was in the right spot I said. “Just think, while this heals you can play Stranger when you jerk off on my ass.”

  “Ja- AHHH FUCK!!” He’s loud when he wants to be good grief.

  It took everything I had but I got it on the first try. The feel of the ball sinking back in it’s socket almost made me sick. I shivered inside and out instead.

  Arrow came over to get reassurance his partner was okay. I backed up giving him room.

  Master reached over to pet him. “It’s okay buddy. I’m good thanks to your mother.” His hand dropped down to his chest and next thing I know he’s sound asleep.

  I double-checked his pulse and breathing before covering him with a quilt and stepping back. I’ve never seen him vulnerable before. Even in his sleep he’s menacing, except this time. This time he almost looks peaceful.

  Did he just refer to me as Arrow’s mother?

  Fletcher slept on the couch for a solid five hours. I think the smell of elk roasting in the slow cooker with potatoes and carrots woke him up.

  “Where are you?” He asked in his usual grumpy tone.

  I took him two Tylenol and an Advil along with a glass of water. “Here, take these. Dinner won’t be ready for another hour.”

 

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