ICE TIME

The position  was intensely humiliating. But, then of course
that was  the goal  all along.  Brad  sat  relaxing  in  the
leather chair, reading the Sunday Times while drinking a hot
cup of black coffee. He didn't even have to look up to check
on Kevin.  The moans  filtering through  the bit-gag assured
him that  his personal weekend slave was still concentrating
on some  tougher problems  than the Sunday crossword puzzle.
Hearing a  particularly sharp  yelp made  Brad's  cock  stir
against the smooth shiny material of his gym shorts. . Kevin
looked to  be in  great pain.  If you looked at him from the
front, it  was hard  to see  the reason. Stripped, he was on
all fours  on the  cold floor.  His arms  and legs were held
apart at  a regular distance by steel rods attached to ankle
and wrist  cuffs. He  was unable  to lean to one side, or to
squat down.  The simple  steel rods  forced him to stay dog-
style on his knees and hands. A heavy black leather belt was
around  his   naked  waist.  Pulled  quite  tight,  it  made
breathing an uncomfortable and difficult act. His dog-collar
(with  the   little  spikes   inside-like  1000s  of  little
incessant mosquito  bites) was  attached tightly to the belt
by a strap running from the rear of the collar over his back
to the  belt. This  kept his head in an upright position, no
chance to let it hang or rest throughout the torment. Still,
the true  center of  the torture  lay hidden. . Looking from
behind, the  secret was  revealed. A  50  pound  weight  was
sitting atop  a large  block of ice. The block had come from
an industrial  ice supplier,  and was  a slick, blue, slowly
melting cube  over a  foot high.  The 50  pound  weight  was
attached to a hank of clothesline, which in turn was running
up to a ceiling beam and then back down to Kevin's nut-sack.
Kevin's crotch  had been shaved by Brad in an unexpected and
unanticipated act  of humiliation.  A pet  clippers had been
used, taking  large swaths  of Kevin's pubic hair along with
each buzzing pass. His caged balls were snugly held, but not
stretched by  the current  position  of  the  cord  and  the
weight. Not  too much pain, or at least not too much pain as
of yet.  . This  was going to take all day. Brad intended to
finish the  Sunday Paper, do some schoolwork and fix himself
lunch. By  the time Sunday Football was over, the diabolical
scheme should be fully at work.

As the  block of  ice slowly melted, the ice water would run
forward against Kevin's feet, ankles, and hands. Keeping him
chilled and  increasing his  discomfort.  Moreover,  as  the
block melted, the weight would gradually, imperceptibly move
lower, millimeter  by millimeter.  And the  result would  be
slow certain pressure mounting on Kevin's slave balls.

Brad raised  himself from  the chair, and walked over to his
slave.

"Nice Day,  isn't it Kevin?" . Pouring the last few drops of
his coffee  into Kevin's  eyes, Brad  stood in  back of  the
bound guy.

"I really  drank too  much coffee,  now I gotta piss." Kevin
stirred perceptibly.  Girding himself  for the  onslaught of
more liquid.  "No, man,  not what  you think." laughed Brad.
Brad began pissing on the block of ice. Kevin moaned knowing
that the warm fluid would only serve to speed up the melting
process for  a time,  and then  return  the  block  to  it's
previously slow  melt. Feeling  wicked, Brad reached forward
and grabbed  Kevin's slavedick.  . "Bet  you'd like  to feel
good right  now Kevin."  .  He  began  slowly  stroking  the
hardening shaft. After seeing chills run down Kevin's chest,
Brad abruptly  stopped and  snapped  his  fingers  onto  the
slave's nuts.  . "But,  of course you won't get any more." .
"You haven't  earned it,  yet." .  With a  swift kick to the
ass, Brad  returned to his chair to finish reading and drink
a fresh cup of coffee.