25 January 2021 We have actually had a proper snow fall here for a few days. It is becoming rare for us. Yesterday, I heard a not very funny comedian, mentioning a few creatures that eat snow to keep hydrated, and do they know to avoid eating yellow snow. Well the point of this post is not about what happens in nature, but what happens in my life and of course therefore, bitch-boy’s life. And the comment I heard gave me a wicked idea.
I told bitch-boy we were going for a walk in the snow. Before we left, unbeknown to him, I filled a small water bottle with my nectar. I was wrapped up nice and warm and had my waterproof rambling trousers on. He was also wrapped up nice and warm. I walked him to a very secluded spot we go to quite often. At the edge of a field, there is a huge fallen tree trunk and a beautiful view can be seen when sitting on the tree trunk.
We arrived at the destination and the freezing fog rather reduced the view but it was still wonderfully silent, beautiful and totally secluded. (One of the benefits of living deep in the countryside.)
I sat on the tree trunk and told bitch-boy to remain standing. I burrowed my boots into the snow and then piled snow on top of my boots from either side with my ski-gloved hands. Poor bitch-boy looked confused. I told him to kneel because he was to lick my boots clean of the snow while I enjoyed the wonderful view and the peacefulness. He slowly lowered himself to his knees, looking submissive and miserable. He was about to begin when I stopped him. As I pulled the bottle of my nectar from my pocket I spoke to him.
‘Oh little puppet, that snow on my boots does look rather cold, and boring. Let me see if I can warm it up and make it more interesting for you.’ He knelt and watched silently, but looking distressed, as I distributed my nectar over the snow that covered my boots. I giggled as I finished. ‘Well, I think that’s a little warmer and a little less boring. And its a lovely yellow rather than boring white now isn’t it. Off you go maggot!’ He paused for a moment and then dipped his head down. I immediately pushed his head down with my hand on the back of his head until his face was deep in the yellow snow.
‘What a pathetic creature you are!’ I felt aroused now but that would have to wait until I got home. I let go of his head and sat back. He sobbed as he lifted his face from the snow. I felt no pity at all. (I have learned, rather late in life, that he is mentally and physicality indestructible when it comes to my abuse of him). I knew when his head hit his pillow at bedtime, he would simply be so in awe of his pitiless, sadistic Mistress, even if he was so, so sad and distressed right now. He began to consume the snow. THE YELLOW SNOW.
I sat back and looked at the beautiful view. And absorbed the silence. I could feel bitch-boy at his degrading toil and see his small movements in my peripheral vision. The minutes went by so pleasurably. A warm, energising blanket of of power-rush. Yet another perfect moment in my life because I am a total bitch married to a submissive. I felt decadent, fortunate and profoundly contented. I thought about the view, the peace and tranquility, the massive orgasms I would be having when I got home and I thought about the continued chastity bitch-boy would endure. There would be no orgasm for him. (Four weeks since his last orgasm and counting. 13 weeks denial period before that, and 17 weeks before that.)
That wonderful DS symbiosis equation entered my consciousness. The more of a cruel, pitiless dominant bitch I am, the more pleasure and orgasms I have, the more adoration I receive, the better bitch-boy sleeps at night.
Life is good!