Wax (M/s)

(First post here)

She sat naked at the table, hands face down on the waxed wooden surface the high backed dining chair holding her upright. Ten large candles flickered in the centre, the only light in an otherwise dark room. She waited. She could feel the tension, she knew he was in the room, waiting, watching.

Minutes passed, her hands now cling to the table not daring to move, the smell of burning wax filled her senses and all she could do is wait. Her pulse quickened, she could feel it between her legs as subtle sounds came from behind her. Slow deliberate movements, footsteps gradually getting louder and closer.

His hands brushed against her face as he pulled her long hair back over her shoulders revealing her breasts to the chill air in the room and causing her nipples to react as if he touched them. He tied her hair up and lent in closely until his lips were briefly touching her earlobe. She felt his breath on her neck and turned her head slightly, expecting soft kisses to run down her neck, but none came.

A thin piece of satin appeared before her and was gently placed over her eyes and tied firmly. Everything was dark, one less sense to get in the way.

Still standing behind her he ran his rough hands down the length of each arm until his hands rested on top of hers. She felt every slight scratch and callous as he moved and goosebumps appeared on her arms, she shivered slightly. Not cold but apprehensive, this was new, this was unknowing. Like standing on the edge of a cliff, safe but scared.

He slipped his fingers between hers, reassuring her and causing her to breathe a little harder. She felt his stubble on her shoulder and scratch its way up her neck until his cheek was on hers. “Open” he said and instinctively she spread her legs. She felt the chill air once more as her lips parted, her wetness only adding to the sensation.

His hands moved from hers and she felt them run up her thighs until they reached her vulnerable exposed cunt. The briefest touch was all she was allowed, the slightest spread before they were gone again. Only to be felt once more on her ankles, followed by the softest of ropes, binding her to the chair. Exposed, open, his plaything for her pleasure. “Hands” he said quietly and she obediently offered them to him. He moved them behind the chair and bound her wrists together.

Silence followed, nothing, waiting once more. Her breathing quickened and anxiety started to replace arousal. She could hear movement, footsteps, the sounds of things happening. She bit her lip and waited and hoped he wouldn’t notice her subtle shaking. His fingertips ran down her ribs and she squirmed, relieved and anxious. They traced her contours and followed them until he cupped her breast, lifting it and exposing the soft skin underneath. He gently squeezed and slid his thumb over her erect nipple. Holding it, offering it as if it were a sacrifice. Then it came.. a hot sting, a wet clawing sensation, cooling then hardening. Then again, and again. It was almost unbearable, almost.. as each heavy drop of molten wax descended and ran down her flesh to join the previous one, before cooling and solidifying, shrinking and pulling at her raw skin underneath.

More came and more. Each breast now covered in a thick layer of hot hardening white wax. He pulled her hair back and she tipped her head back as hot rivers ran down her neck and between her encased breasts. It burnt its way down her stomach as she writhed in pleasure only pain gave her. Finally she felt it, the build and now the crescendo as the final wave of pain hit her exposed cunt. She felt it first on her swollen clit, she gasped as it hit, writhed to get away from the pain before it became excitement. More hot rivers flowed, between her lips, over them, under them. Her smooth slit pulsated as it flowed and slowly cooled, a perfect cast of her, a mould of the moment she gave in and let him control her.

Then silence, his hand appeared on her face followed by his lips on hers. Offering soft kisses as a reward. He reached down between her legs and stroked the solidified mass, she felt every movement as one, every part of her was touched at once. He bit her lip and held it in his teeth as he clamped his hand tighter around the waxy tomb, pressing it into her, moving it, fucking her with it. She could feel everything, every part of her moved as one, her clit encased, engorged, stroked by a prison of his making.

And she was done, she’d submitted to him. This was her gift and her reward. Her hips moved rhythmically with each movement he gave her, her moans louder and without fear. He clawed at the wax, broke it free, tore it from her. She gasped with pain as it pulled her skin, the most sensitive of skin and she moaned as the feeling turned to pleasure as he pushed his fingers inside her. Slow forceful strokes, firm hard fingers filled her, then out. Spreading, opening, wetting skin before once again fucking her raw pussy. Each time his fingers fucked her he bit harder, pulling her into his mouth. Her hips moved quicker, encouraging him to fuck her faster which he did, harder, faster, as deep as he could. Her breathing quickened and he felt her clamp against his fingers and as she did so he pulled the wax from one of her nipples. She moaned louder, her cunt soaked, slippery, his fingers deep inside her. She tightened around him for the last time and he pulled the final wax prison from her nipple. She threw her head back as a small gush flowed from her, his hand soaked. She felt it on her thighs, trickling between her legs.

She let out the smallest of gasps as her breathing slowed and she regained control of herself. He kissed her one last time before tasting her off his fingers.

“Good girl”