Yes I am late with this weeks Microfantasy Monday from Sweltering Celt’s site (click on the linky below if you want to have a go) but here it is … this weeks word … Snow… the scene is set …

Her body is white and rigid, the cold air permeating through her skin to chill her bones. The rope is tightly bound, the bark of the tree raking her back with every movement. The only item of clothing are the woollen layered moccasins covering her feet up to her knees, each ankle is cuffed and staked to the ground on either side of the tree trunk. A blindfold covers her eyes, wrenching away the one sense she relies on. She gasps as a handful of snow is rubbed over her breasts, her nipples stinging, her nerves sensitive to the harsh texture of the bark that digs into her back and ass as she tries to escape the coldness assaulting her front.

“My own little Yule tree”, he murmurs as his hand journeys downwards to make his little tree sing.