By popular demand…

The Ice Cream Sandwich Story.


Reason #912 why I adore T: The way she smiles when in rope.

To say that T likes to be tied up is like saying a fish likes to be in water. When I first took up rope bondage, she would stand for an eternity as I tried out different ties on her. Invariably I would get to a sticking point and have to stop and re-do a section. She would smile and say, “What? You have to untie me and tie me up AGAIN? Darn!” And smile the smile of a woman in bliss. It was this bliss that actually drove me in those early days to learn more and hone my skills. We discovered the joys of rope together, often just spending hours enjoying the act of placing rope on skin with no particular destination in mind.

It was on one of these nights, a muggy night in late summer, that I told her. “I have something I’d like to try.” She smiled as I opened my rope bag and begun to place bundles of coiled rope on the bed next to her naked form.
Laying her out on her back, I bound her wrists to her ankles so that her body lay open to me. Knees bent, sex exposed, she smiled that smile that told me all was good in her world. Once secured, I set about to flog her exposed pink bits with a soft cotton flogger. Her smile turned to a grimace, her grimace to moans, her moans to cries of pleasure.

Standing back to admire her panting form, I reached into my toy bag and remove what is quite possibly the greatest sex toy ever invented…the Hitachi magic wand. A miracle of modern science really. Tying the bat shaped vibe to her inner thigh; I placed its head next to her now swollen sex and fliped the switch. Unable to wiggle away from its deep vibration, her cries doubled. The heat of her pleasure, radiating off her skin in waves, coupled with the already warm night had turned the room into a sauna.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I uttered my now favorite thing to say when folks are tied up. “Now don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back. Promise!”


I returned a few moments later wearing a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. T looked up at me with pleading eyes as I moved in close to her. With a flash I reveal the item hidden behind me. A single ice cream sandwich.

Slowly and with great care I un-wrapped the milky delicacy, taking care not to spill a single drop of it’s melting goodness. She whimpers as she watches me lick the wrapper clean. Then with no warning I placed the ice cold treat upon her heaving belly. Howling in surprise, her eyes go wide as it instantly begins to melt on her hot skin. With excruciating slowness I sat there, inches from her face, eating the thing. Making exaggerated faces of culinary pleasure as I nibbled on the treat she begged me for a bite, but none would be had.

It was at that moment, as streams of melted ice cream ran down her belly, that T uttered those fateful words for the very first time.

“YOU EVIL RAT BASTARD!”

Eventually I did untie her and saw to it that she too got her own ice cream treat (and a few other things as well). We now joke that it is really not a scene until they pull out an ice cream sandwich.