This is what happens when I masturbate.
There is nothing that can compete with how flesh feels when near frozen. Silky and soft like cold yogurt on a hot day. I found him in the forest, quartered out to two massive steel spikes just like I left him. He was still living if that's what you wanted to call it. I drug him back in through the snow and into the house. Slowly I cut off the plastic wrap that sealed his form from frost bite and laid him out on velvet rug just the size of his body. He was a beautiful color of blue like robins eggs, his full lips purple and his black hair glistening as it fell like a shadow about his shoulders. He was unconscious as I bound him down spread and stretched as though he was ascending to heaven. My warm hands stroked down his sides, finding his pulse. I shed down to nothing but my lack of modesty and found a simple exacto blade, straddling his icy bone hips. Leaning in I made a series of small cut between each rib, watching as the dark blood welled up like honey. My tongue explored these newly made holes for a time before I pulled myself up, turning to my tray of carnal joys. I poured a thick cream into my palm and worked over his flaccid piece as it quickly grew hard though still remaining cold. I slid onto him and held a rubber hammer in my free hand. Pounding into his groin I beat into his ribs as well, listening to his chest thud hollow save for a final loud crack that broke his sternum as I came in a flood of hot cream. I pulled myself off his crotch and slid up the length of his chest, letting the fluids drip over his body and settle into the small holes I'd cut earlier. Such pretty pale flesh was now blooming with purple flower bruises as well as splatters of blood. I breathed heavily and moved away, finding a leather needle and thick, black string. Gently, as though he was a precious doll of childhood lost, I begin to sew his upper arm to his side, taking care to do both sides by curving when I came to his elbow which left his forearms free. When I finished with both his arms I sewed his scrotum flat against his body so that his testicles no longer hung down. Instead of tying off the thick thread off I melted it to the last hole it came from, blistering up the still icy flesh. As I was sewing his thighs together he begin to come to. A slow keening noise came from his lips and I moved to his head, sushing him gently and stroking back his hair. Tears rolled from his gray eyes and he begin to shiver. I pried my fingers into his mouth and poured a thick liquid down his throat. He gurgled and tried to thrash, screaming as he pulled at the stitches that cover his body. I waited as the liquid took effect, leaving in a state of silence but fully aware of what continued. I sighed in boredom and let my hand run along his side, pulling up a powdered acid that I carefully distributed along all the stitches. The smell of chemically burned flesh filled the room as the powder ate away the thread as well as the skin surrounding it. Within in half an hour the liquor wore off and he let out a blood curdling scream. As he threw himself about as best he could in bindings I proceeded to douse him in vinegar, causing the scream to hit the point of banshee wailing. Shortly after he lost consciousness again and I unstrapped him, carrying him to the bath tub and washing him down in a tepid water. I cleaned out the freshly formed wounds and removed the stitches that held his sack in. With the damage done and dressed I wrapped him up again in cellophane and drug him back outside, chaining him back to the stakes to suffer the loving hold of a harsh mistress.