You know, I’ve been sitting on this part for a week or two now? Just been waiting for the right balance of energy and MOTIVATION to get it written out and, well, let me tell you that I’m excited, anyways.
“Up and at 'em, ladies.” I said cheerfully as I swung the Min House open.
They had been sitting on the fabric pile I had left them originally, probably for lack of anything better to do, but as I approached they assumed their attention positions, as obedient as ever. Hilariously, me opening the house jostled them out of place, sending them falling back onto their little nest, but they recovered in admirable speed and returned to proper form.
“Miranda and I discussed a few things, and the good news is your situation is going to improve.” I explained. “You’re actually still on house arrest for awhile, but we’re going to be having a little fun and your attendance is required. I’ll set you back up with everything afterwards.”
I held out my hand for them but while they approached amicably enough, they hesitated as they grew closer, staring up at me with increasingly concerned faces. I probably would have been annoyed at that normally, but I was so excited for what was coming next that I merely smiled wider.
“Did I mention this is going to be your last chance for decent food until the next round of negotiations? Because you two are on Min Chow for now as well.”
It was amazing, I thought idly as Amber and Mia all but flew into my palm, just how effective the proper motivation could be.
“Excellent choice.” I murmured, before closing my hand around them.
I all but whistled as I walked back to the table, and it was clear my good mood was putting everyone on edge.
“…Ian?” Miranda asked warily. “What’s going on?”
I had left her and Sydney there once we had concluded our game, struck by a sudden inspiration that I was dying to see through. I hadn’t told them what was about to happen, but I had realized it would be easier if I didn’t give her time to stress over it, and maybe work herself up to try to flee and hide somewhere in the house. It wouldn’t save her from me, of course, but I didn’t want to deal with the hassle, either.
Better not to give her a warning. Or a choice.
“We’re having a little celebration, Miranda.” I answered. “I like to think we’ve made some progress just now, and I’d like to treat that with the importance it deserves.”
She flinched when I swung my hand to her, visibly stopping herself from retreating, and the sight was a little sting of irritation in my good mood. Instead of letting her pick up her friends, as I had planned, I lightly tossed them at her without any warning.
As she fumbled to catch them, I strode off into the kitchen, grabbing a large mixing bowl and setting it on the counter. As I walked to the freezer I found myself humming cheerfully as my attitude improved, pulling out the chocolate ice cream and scooping out a decent serving into the bowl before returning the carton to the fridge.
By the time I returned to the table with the largely empty bowl I found the women bunched together near the center, as they often did when they found my actions alarming. It was adorable how they acted like that would protect them at all, but it probably helped calm their nerves if nothing else, so I refrained from laughing and simply sat at my usual spot, with the bowl placed before me.
“Amber.” I began. She jolted at the sound of her name. “Mia. Miranda.”
I tapped the space in front of me, next to the bowl, with a finger. “All of you come here.”
There was a moment of confusion where they all stared at each other, before all eyes turned to the one member of their number I had excluded, who looked unsure if she should be happy or terrified at being the odd one out. Thankfully, they started moving before I had to repeat myself, and soon enough I had three little women lined up in front of me, staring up at my face with worried eyes.
Then, before any of them could react, my left hand lashed out and seized Miranda. Palm on her chest, and fingers gripping her shoulders, I easily forced her down onto the table top, and a single finger tip moved to cover her mouth, and any sounds she could have made. The smaller Mins screamed at my sudden movements, but before they do anything else my right hand pushed the bowl behind them. They jumped and spun to look at it, and were so panicked they didn’t see me calmly lay my arm on the other side of the bowl, trapping them in place.
“You know, I’d like to thank you two.” I said casually. “The more time passes, the more sure I am that Miranda would have been even more unreasonable without your presence, and the constant guilt and fear for your lives.”
What I could see of their tiny faces paled and Miranda’s thrashing grew suddenly frantic under my grip.
“And in general I’d like to think I’ve treated you well, all things considered. But…” I trailed off for a moment as I tried to find the words, and I tapped a finger absently on Miranda’s breast.
“I’ve been using you, successfully I might add, as hostages, but as I rely on that more and more her she’s going to be to rebel unless I prove that I’m serious and I don’t think I’ve actually done anything to you, beyond locking you in your House. Certainly nothing where she could see it. So, under the circumstances, I’ve decided that Miranda needs a reminder that I am, in fact, absolutely not bluffing when I start pushing things farther. Not about you, not about her, not about anything. In the same vein, I owe her an indignity, and really, I just want to have a bit of fun. So we’re going to have a little party to celebrate the fact that you’re all my hostages and that you should all be terrified about it, and as a paper thin excuse for me to play with you all, to kind of cover all these points all at once.”
Taking my free hand, I set it in front of them, fingers spread wide so that each of them stood in the empty space between two fingers. There was a span of time there, brief as it was, that they could have tried to run, or hide, or really do anything to resist me. Honestly, I had expected them to. Instead, they merely stared up at me with resignation on their faces.
Once I was satisfied with how things were lined up, carefully I closed my hand and trapped them in between my fingers.
Lifting them into the air, I turned my hand and looked at it, and my two prisoners, like a woman admiring her rings. They hung there, limp and unmoving, but seemed to be unhurt, just disheartened.
“This isn’t about you, you’re just the most convenient tool at hand for my needs. If it makes you feel better, I’m not trying to make you miserable just for fun, I’m trying to make Miranda miserable for fun. Well, that probably doesn’t help. Either way…” I trailed off and shrugged. “Sorry about all this.”
Then I dropped them into the ice cream.
I felt Miranda’s scream under my fingertip, and pressed down lightly in response.
“Don’t be such a drama queen, they’re fine. It’s not like they’re going to be hurt by such a soft landing.”
I laughed and adjusted my grip, freeing her mouth as I lifted her, thrashing, into the air.
“Besides, Miranda, you really should be worrying more about yourself. How easily you’ve forgotten that this is about humiliating you.”
And just like that, she froze.
“What?” She asked in a quiet voice, but I ignored her for the moment to look in the bowl instead.
When I had dropped them, Amber and Mia had sunk pretty deeply into the ice cream, but it seemed by now they had managed to free themselves and get back on their feet. Shivering slightly from the cold, huddling together for warmth, and covered in brown splotches, but otherwise unharmed by my antics.
Good.
Admittedly, this all was a bit of calculated risk; ice cream itself was harmless, of course, but for all intents and purposes they were standing in a snow field while naked. For now they were fine, but if I left in there too long it could be hazardous for their health. Mins are delicate creatures, after all, and while I was acting careless with them, I had no intention to let them actually be injured.
“You know, I’ve been craving some ice cream, and would you look at this, Miranda! All of this, just for me!”
I paused. “Well, for all of us, technically, but somehow I think I’ll be coming out of this with the lion’s share, don’t you? Anyways, I have ice cream, I have a bowl…”
I trailed off as I made a show of looking around the table. “But wait! What’s this? I don’t have a spoon! How tragic!”
Sighing in exaggerated regret, I turned my head, staring at the woman in my hand meaningfully. “If only I had something else I could use…”
It didn’t take Miranda long to get the message.
“No…” She said in horror. “No, Ian, you wouldn’t, you couldn’t! How would that even work?!”
“I don’t know,” I admitted cheerfully, “But you know what? I’m excited to find out!”
That was a bit of a white lie, if I was being perfectly honest. I had put some thought into all of this before hand, after all. I may not know for sure, but I had a few theories how to make it work.
I was milking all of this to for drama, yes, to inspire fear in the Mins lost in the bowl and to Miranda trapped in my hand, but it also let the ice cream warm and melt, become easier to scoop, as well as limit how long I could play this out before it melted completely and ended the game.
Moreover, I had been very particular when I had picked Miranda up, pinning her arms with my thumb and fingers while resting her back against my palm, which left her lower half protruding from my hand. It was a somewhat awkward way to hold her, but I had my reasons: You see, even softened, the ice cream would probably resist a Min’s body to some extent, and while I could easily force it, that could possible hurt Miranda. Most of their bodies were soft and delicate, but if I had to name the strongest part of a Min’s body, one that could cut into ice cream the easiest… it would be the legs.
“I"ve got an idea, though. Let’s start with this: open your legs, Miranda.”
“What?!” She screeched. “Ian, I-”
“Oh well. I guess I’ll have to handle it myself.”
I cut her off before she could say anything else. I hadn’t expected her to agree, which was half the reason we were doing all this in the first place, but more than that I didn’t want her to agree. Now, of all times, I didn’t want her cheerful and compliant; I wanted her to struggle, to fight against me, to kick her legs and do her best to dig her tiny little teeth into my skin.
I wanted her to do all of that… and have it serve absolutely no purpose other than to make her tired. I had already decided that today I was going to drive into her just how pathetic and helpless she truly was.
Ignoring her continued protests, I grabbed her legs with my free hand and easily forced them open as I lowered Miranda’s body into the bowl. The others had made their way out of ice cream, mostly, and were at one of the edges of the bowl, trying frantically to climb out, though they froze in place at my movements. I pretended not to see them as I aimed for the top of the ice cream mountain.
Lowering Miranda just below where I planned to take my first ‘spoonful’, I closed her legs around the area, cutting through it and leaving a lump balanced on her thighs. Lifting her to head height, I bent Miranda’s legs forward so that lump fell onto her stomach, and it was only then that I leaned in to eat.
If I was doing all this just to eat ice cream, honestly this whole system would have been far better off replaced by a simple spoon. It was messy, it was inefficient. It took two hands, and a lot more work than it probably should have taken, all for the relatively simple task of getting ice cream from the bowl to my mouth.
Thankfully, though, the ice cream itself was basically the last thing on my mind. Everyone here knew that the ice cream was just a fig leaf over my real intentions, to play with Miranda’s body and humiliate her, and on that metric, this was a stunning success.
Even now, she fought against me, her toned legs struggling frantically against my fingers, her high pitched, desperate cries, the way her entire body jerked each time my grip on her arms shifted even minutely.
Bliss, I thought to myself, as I ran my tongue down the flat plane of her stomach, as each panicked breath pushed it harder against my taste buds for a brief second. Truly, this is bliss.
Ignoring the mess I was making of my own face, I chased the melted ice cream past Miranda’s stomach, lapping her breasts, before heading down to her legs. Here I let go of them, allowing her to kick each of them freely, until I took first one, then the other, into my mouth. Gently biting to hold each in place, I move up from the ankles, past the knees, only to stop half way up her thighs.
And for a moment, the room seemed to freeze as I turned her body to face me, bottom first. We both knew what was about to happen. Miranda tried to stop me, crossing her legs and holding them tight against her body, but it did as much to stop me as the look of terror on her face, or her desperate cries for me to stop, to wait, to talk about this.
Nothing, in other words. It did nothing to stop me.
It was the work of an instant for the tip of my tongue to slither between her legs, to flex and force them open, and to move in on the prize.
In many ways, this was all very similar to what happened after the pizza not too long ago. We never reached this point then, but if I had I would taken my time, tempted and teased her every step of the way. Back then, my biggest priority was to have Miranda enjoy the experience as much, if not more, than I did.
I didn’t want Miranda to remember this experience with a smile. I didn’t want her to think of this as a happy moment. I wanted her to remember it and feel violated.
So this time, instead of waiting, I dug in without hesitation.
At her size, there was only so far I could actually ‘dig in’ of course, nothing more than the very tip of my tongue, but as I did, Miranda jerked so hard in my hands that I worried briefly for her back, making a sound of hungry, desperate pleasure that only belonged in cheap porn. Her legs, which had been rather ineffectively kicking at me before now, suddenly switched to trying to keep my head in place, and at the core of her, I felt tiny, tiny little muscles try and fail to hold my tongue as it turned and twisted within her.
I gave it another second before withdrawing, to another guttural cry, and instead of saying anything I smacked my lips thoughtfully and lowered her back into the bowl.
This time I had to straighten out her limp legs, but the actual experience made getting my next ‘scoop’ easier than the first had been.
I lifted her to my face and observed her for a moment, the way she panted and the flush on her face. As she opened her mouth, I tilted her, steeper this time, so that the lump of ice cream rolled until it stopped flat against her breasts, and I took it all, breasts and dessert alike, into my mouth at once.
The noises Miranda made this time, as I played with her breasts, were short and desperate. I bounced them on my tongue, I pressed them back against her body and hummed happily to myself at the begging natures of the sounds Miranda made in response, before removing them from my mouth with a wet sounding pop as I went down for my third bite.
It was only then that I noticed that the other two were in trouble. It had probably been several minutes at this point, and Amber and Mia were visibly slowing down from the cold. Worse yet, they were trapped before one of the melting flows that came from the main pile of confection, and it wouldn’t be long before they were buried in it.
The real irony of it all though, is that while I noticed, Miranda didn’t. She didn’t fight me I lowered her back into the bowl, and she scissored me some of the now rapidly melting ice cream almost without my hand even moving, never noticing that her friends were trapped inside the blob now resting on her body. It was only as I lifted her to my mouth, choosing to eat directly off her legs this time, that she startled, head jolting down suddenly as she presumably felt something move against her skin.
Then I slurped the lump, passengers and all, into my mouth.
“Ian?”
Miranda had stopped talking after the first scoop, so it was honestly a bit surprising to hear her voice again so fast. I had thought it would have taken her longer to catch her breath.
“Ian, where are they?”
Carefully, I pressed the two wiggling shapes in my mouth against my cheek with my tongue as swallowed down some of the mixed spit and ice cream slurry.
“Where are they, Ian?! Where are Amber and Mia?!”
Releasing them, I let the now limp forms settle onto my tongue and felt a brief urge to keep moving them around, tasting them, toying with them. Instead, I answered Miranda, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue just enough for her to see.
She gasped.
I couldn’t see how they looked, of course, but I could imagine. While they weren’t buried in ice cream any more, between what was left of it and my saliva, I doubted they could move much, and though the brief stint in my mouth had likely warmed them enough to get them out of the danger zone, I could still feel the two of them shivering.
There was a scream I ignored as I brought them back into my mouth, trying to suck the worst of the mess off of them. A moment of an almost absent adjustment brought some quiet as I covered Miranda’s mouth again, and brought my newly freed hand to my face as I spat out my two prisoners.
Licking my lips, I brought them up to eye level to examine them closer. They were soaked, of course, hair clinging to their faces and bodies and gasping for breath, but they seemed to have come out of the experience intact. Neither of them could stand, though; Amber tried, briefly, to raise her arm, but the sheer weight and stickiness of my drool seemed to overwhelm her and she gave up to lay back helplessly against my palm.
I considered pushing a little further, maybe saying a line about how good they tasted, but I think I done enough at this point. I gave them a moment before bringing Miranda up enough to see their pathetic state, then closed my hand around the pair.
They wouldn’t like it, but the warmth of my hand would probably do more to help them shake off the effect of the cold than a hot shower would.
I gave it a minute or two before I spoke up.
“Sydney.”
From the corner she had tried to hide herself in, my newest Min straightened up.
“Come here and keep an eye on Miranda for me, I’ll be back soon enough. Don’t let her do anything stupid, hold her down if you have to.”
She made a face at that, presumably at how rapidly things I had changed things up with what I wanted from her and what I would punish her for, but gamely walked towards me as I set Miranda down on the table.
Still with my hand closed, I got up and headed to the sink, briskly rinsing off my free hand and drying it on a towel before heading back to the Min House.
Quietly, I began to pick up each piece of furniture I had removed before and placed it in back into the house. It wasn’t the exact location I had taken them all from, but the end result was still a cleary livable home once more, instead of an empty space defined only by the walls. It was only then, once I was satisfied with the arrangement, that I opened up my hand on the sodden heap I was holding.
Compared to the last time I saw them, they seemed somewhat more energetic, but something inside Amber and Mia seemed broken by what they had experienced.
We regarded each other, and I felt compelled to break the silence.
“…I won’t say sorry. I used you just as I have always planned to, and I never made a secret that’s what you were for. But I will admit I went too far, and I do regret that.”
I gave them some time to speak up, but when they did nothing more than stare at me blankly, I kept talking.
“I put you in real danger, and I regret that. And even if it’s not for the reasons you would have wanted, that emotion is real. But, as a form of apology, I will tell you two a secret.”
I leaned in slightly, ignoring the way they cringed at my approach, and spoke in just over a whisper.
“Soon enough, I won’t need you two anymore.” A look of horror crossed their faces, and I rushed to correct myself. “Not for something like this, anyways.”
They relaxed, slightly, at that and I continued. “My main point, the threat, is made. I don’t think I’ll have to prove my willingness anymore, which means that as long as you are here, and alive, it stands with absolutely zero effort on my part. And I’ll admit, part of the problem I had just now is that I enjoyed playing with you too much to want to stop.”
I shrugged a bit and smirked. “Thankfully, there are other ways for me to get that kind of fun. More expendable ways than the two of you. For now, suffice to say that you two have well and truly earned your place here. I don’t expect to see either of you for the rest of the night. Or the morning, even.”
I gave them a moment to digest that, before settling them gently back into their home. “Take a bath, or a shower, and clean yourselves up. Get some rest, enjoy whatever food is left in there.”
I closed the House back up, locked it, and returned to the table to see Sydney standing over Miranda, looking visibly unsure if she should be doing something, or running full tilt in the opposite direction. I settled that matter for her by plucking her off the table top as I headed back to my chair.
Miranda meanwhile, was curled in on herself, arms hugging her knees and head bowed. Calmly, I dipped Sydney’s butt into the bowl and at her startled squeal Miranda straighten up to look at me.
I licked the sweet liquid off the squirming Sydney before I spoke up.
“They almost died in there, you know. It was collapsing on them. If I hadn’t pulled them out it would have buried them, and I don’t think they could have managed to dig their way out. Drowning in ice cream, huh? What a way to go.”
I was fully prepared to keep going, but apparently that was enough for Miranda to reach the breaking point.
“What was the point of this, Ian?!” She screamed, banging her fist against the wood. “Why are telling me this, why are you doing this to me?!”
My fist hit the table so hard that it shook.
“BECAUSE YOU NEEDED THIS TO HAPPEN!” I shouted back.
There was a pause. “What?” Miranda said weakly.
I leaned towards her, settling my hands on the table only to be thwarted by the Min I was still holding onto. I stared at Sydney blankly before dropping her into the bowl.
“Stay.” I told her firmly, before turning back into Miranda.
“I honestly wonder sometimes… do you even realize your situation? You’re afraid of me, yes, and I’ll admit I’ve encouraged that to some extent, but the way you act around me… it feels like you think I did this to you. That I walked up to you on the street, Min’d you, and took you home. I didn’t do this to you. You Min’d all by yourself. I didn’t abandon you at the Kennel. I didn’t leave you there, for months, without any contact. Your friends did. Your family did. Your boyfriend did. I have done nothing to you, Miranda, nothing that has happened to you is my fault.”
I slammed my fist down again. “Do you know what I did do, though? I rescued you. I treated you like a person. I gave you food, and clothes, and respect, when you had none, and you spat all over that because of the simple fact that I enjoyed all of this. Do you realize what you have, Miranda? You have nothing.”
I gestured angrily at the house. “All these things you enjoy? All of it, the clothes, the warmth, the shelter? All of it is mine. ‘Your’ clothes are ‘yours’ in the same way a Barbie owns whatever outfit a child puts on her. You own nothing. You deserve nothing, and I give you these things anyways, yet you treat my attentions as a threat?”
I shifted tacks. “How long would it have taken you, Miranda, to realize that your friends were missing?”
She flinched.
“How long would it have taken you to realize that they had died? And how about this: what if you had seen them, down in that bowl, Miranda? What would you have done?”
Silently, she began to cry. In response I reached out and pinned her down to the table.
“Nothing.” I snarled. “You would have done nothing, but begged and cried, because you are nothing, Miranda. You are a Min, just like the rest of them. You would have done all that and done nothing, changed nothing, and they would have died the same way they would have if you had never noticed them at all. You an animal too helpless to take care of herself, and one that the government is just guilty enough to refuse to put down.”
I held out my empty hand in front of her. “Image, for a moment, that the two of them were here, right now.”
I closed my hand, the same way I often did when I transported Mia and Amber, and began to squeeze.
“Stop me, Miranda.”
She cried harder.
“Stop me, Miranda, or else they die.”
I gave it a little longer, then opened my hand as if I was dropping something.
“Oops. I guess they’re dead now. That was a surprising amount of blood for how small they were, wasn’t it?”
I clenched my fist so hard that my knuckled popped.
“You have the gall to treat me as, what? Some unwanted thug trying to corner you on the streets, when I am the one that gives you everything.”
And just like that, I snapped.
Lunging forward, I grabbed her, and dragged her towards my body. Thoughtlessly, madly, I caught her, held her, seized whatever I touched, frantically changing my grip to hold down anything that moved to the soundtrack of her screams.
It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t desire. It was some emotion I couldn’t name, a bizarre possessiveness that was almost closer to hunger than anything, a mad desire that emerged from an empty, endlessly wanting place in myself I hadn’t realized existed before this moment.
There was no thought to it, no logic. I simply wanted in a way that echoed to my core.
It lasted for… two minutes? Three? Maybe even four. I’m not sure, but when I came back to myself, I found Miranda squeezed tight against my chest, face down, locked in place by my crossed arms, while my hands held her butt and head in a firm grip. Between t hatand the way I had curled over her, almost no part of her was left uncovered by my body, like a snake coiling around its prey.
I realized suddenly, in a blinding moment of transcendent understanding, that if Miranda had been smaller, I may have simply dropped her into my mouth just to trap her more firmly, to bring her even closer to me.
I may have even swallowed.
I didn’t actually mean to stop here when I started, but I reached this point and it somehow seemed like a great place to stop to me?
You know, as I was writing this all out, I was reminded of something I had read a long time ago. It said that, while a dom acts like everything is easy and effortless to their subs, or that they’re being careless and they don’t care if the sub gets hurt or not, they actually need to put a lot of work in the background to make everything goes perfectly. It just occurred to me that the way Ian messes with Miranda sometimes has a similar energy to it.
Also… for a fetish story on a fetish forum that is basically about reducing a woman to sexual slavery, there is surprisingly little focus on the sex. Or sex at all, even.
.