The quality of being hot; esp. a perceptible degree of this quality, (high) temperature, warmth.
"I want you to scream for me, slave."
She ran her hands over his bound body. "And I want it to be genuine this time, too. I know what a good actor you are, I know how you can howl and make it sound like it's coming from the bottom of your heart, and yet the moment we are done you can hold me in your arms and tell me that it was OK. That you would go through it again to please me.
"Not this time. This time I feel hard, and cruel. I want to really hurt you. But you have to decide to accept it." Her fingers played with the round red plastic gag in his mouth.
She went to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. "I know it's going to be difficult, slave. That's why I had to tie you up, so you wouldn't try to get away after you'd already made up your mind." She came back with a small something in the palm of her hand. She tipped her hand to show him what it was.
It was a small vial of Tiger Balm.
He tensed involuntarily. She laughed a little at that. "Now this is going in one of two places. One of them is on my nipples. If that's what you choose, I'll be very disappointed. You can be sure I'll take it out on you and make you pay for my pain. I'll use you like you've never been used, and then I'm going to leave you, ignore you totally. You'll sleep alone tonight."
Then she got up and straddled his naked body, and bent over, so that her face was within an inch of his. "I suppose you're wondering where the second place is," she whispered, the warmth of her breath tickling his nose.
There was no need for him to respond.
Without a word, she set down the Tiger Balm, and caressed his face. Then, holding his right eyelid open, she bent down even further, and licked his eye, slowly tasting the saltiness of it. He flinched a little, but let her continue until she was done. When she finished, she hovered silently over him. They looked into each other's eyes for the longest minute.
"It's time, my dearest," she whispered again, finally.
He only whimpered, and shook his head, to no avail.
She sat up and reached for the vial, and opened it. Ever so delicately, she reached in with her pinky and picked up a tiny dab of the ointment. "Just give me a sign, slave. Please, be brave for me, just keep your eyes open. If you close them, I'll be terribly let down. Just keep them open, oh please..." And with that, she closed the vial, set it down, and began. He could only watch, a million thoughts going through his head, as her hand, trembling with anticipation, made its way up his chest, then across his neck, until her fatal finger was poised over his eye...
Copyright (c) 1998 {hamlet}Ophelia