by Tara Rose
“Nash and I were thinking of getting together with Blaine, Mateo, and Carma tomorrow. You should have time with your friends. We might invite Van and Rowena as well. They’re not in the lifestyle, but Nash has something to discuss with Van.”
Angela glanced up at him, hoping he’d forgive the breach in protocol. “I would love that, Sir. Thank you.”
Ian smiled, and Angela’s heart soared. “Then consider it done. Can you spend the night here? If you need to go home and get hair products or something, I’ll take you in the morning.”
“Okay. I mean yes, Sir. I will need to go home for just a moment.” Why couldn’t she form a coherent sentence around either of these men? “Should I have assumed I would spend the night and brought what I needed with me?”
“Why don’t you, from now on? That will make things easier.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He glanced at a spot behind her. “Here comes Nash. Are you ready for this, Angela? This is going to be intense play. We’ll save actual penetration for when we’re back upstairs, but there will be sexual play here on the main floor as well. This is your last chance to move upstairs until we say it’s time to.”
She lowered her gaze again and nodded, her pulse hammering in her ears and her body suddenly flooded with excitement. “I understand, Sir. I’m ready for this.”
Nash and Ian led her to a table against one wall where what looked like several small Crock-Pots simmered over small flames. There was a large glass pitcher with ice water on the table, as well as several long pieces of gauze, and a bottle of baby oil. The table was covered with a drop cloth.
“Climb on, Angela. On your stomach for now.”
She did as Ian asked, and then he removed her shorts and panties. “We’ll put these back on before we go upstairs later.”
She didn’t answer. Every nerve ending was on fire. What were they going to do to her?
“The corset needs to come off, too,” said Nash. “Lift up for a second, Angela.”
She got to her hands and knees and closed her eyes as Nash removed her corset. They were tucked back into one corner of the club, but now except for her boots, she was completely naked. A thrill ran through her body, causing her pussy to contract.
“Lie back down,” said Ian. As soon as she did, he placed a blindfold around her head and nuzzled her neck, whispering close to her right ear. “Don’t be afraid. You remember your safewords, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me what they are.”
Angela swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. “Red stops the scene immediately, yellow if I need something adjusted, and green if I’m good to continue.”
He gently kissed her right cheek. “Good girl, Angela. Now here’s what you will feel. We’re going to drip hot wax onto your skin. It won’t burn, but it will be warm. You’re going to hear a cell phone camera as we take pictures. The wax has colors in it, and we’ll show you the pictures later, but I promise you we will not send them to anyone. Normally, we don’t allow pictures in here, but this is for something special, and we will have DMs watching to make sure no one else is taking any.”
“I understand, Sir.” She trusted them so much it caused her heart to flutter.
“Thank you for the trust, Angela. That means a great deal to us. Do you have any questions before we begin?”
“How will you remove the wax, Sir?”
She heard Nash’s chuckle, and then something hard and cool was brushed across her right forearm. It sent a delicious shiver up and down her spine. “Once the wax cools,” said Nash, “we’ll scrape it off. It won’t hurt you, and it won’t cut your skin. What you felt just now is about as intense as it will feel when the wax comes off. Do you understand, Angela?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Any further questions?”
“Yes, Sir. Are there others who will be watching?” She needed to know.
“From time to time there will be. And we will also be turning you onto your back in a bit. Are you all right with that?”
“Yes, Sir. Will you restrain me, Sir?”
“No. Not for this. That will come later.”
Angela shivered again at the tone in Nash’s voice, even though the room was warm. She had a suspicion that this was going to be the most erotic, intense night of her entire life.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Oh…” Four hands rubbed what she assumed was the baby oil all over her back, legs, and ass cheeks.
“The oil will help keep your skin from being burned,” said Ian, “and it will make the wax easier to remove when we’re done.”
As the first drops of hot wax fell onto her upper back, Angela sucked in a quick breath.
“What color are you?” Nash’s voice was filled with concern.
“Green, Sir. I was just surprised.”
“Good girl. Would you like to know which colors we’re dripping on you as we do it, Angela?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“This is red. We’re going to make a design on your back and lovely ass.”
Angela was intrigued. It was fun to try and picture what design they were making as they told her what color of wax they used. Each time they dripped more onto her skin, the sensation was different. Sometimes they only applied a few drops with the gauze strips, and other times it felt as if they had tipped the tiny pot over and simply poured it all over her.
They hadn’t been lying about the temperature. It wasn’t hot, but it was definitely warm, as though she were standing under a shower that was just a few degrees shy of being too hot. She got used to it after a while, and relaxed as they continued, letting their soft, sexy voices lull her into a state of relaxation.
Soon, she lost track of the colors and where they were dripped as she floated away into a place of utter peace and contentment. From time to time, she heard the click of a cell phone camera, and voices belonging to others floated past her consciousness, but Angela was focused only on the sensations. The wax felt warm as it hit her skin. Then, as it cooled, it gave the impression that she was being tickled with feathers.
She never knew exactly when the warmth would come again, and because she was kept guessing, she never completely lost awareness of all the sensations. Ian and Nash asked her what color she was often, and each time their voices broke through the haze of pleasure.
“We’re done on your back, Angela. I’m going to scrape off the wax, and then we’re going to turn you over.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The first pass of the knife blade from Nash’s hand almost made her jump. The sensation was quite different than the initial warmth and subsequent cooling of the wax, but no less arousing. It was also slightly uncomfortable, but not in a painful way. Rather, it was like someone running their nails over her skin. Each scrape sent a jolt of electricity straight to her clit, which was now throbbing. Her pussy was soaked already. Could they see that?
When they turned her onto her back, surely they would be able to see her juices glistening. Her nipples would be taut peaks by now, and her skin would most likely be flushed with desire. That would mean the others standing around would see it, too. That thought forced a moan from her, followed by a delicious sensation of total wantonness.
She no longer cared if by now, everyone in the club was watching. She was so proud to be with Ian and Nash. She wore their collar, and she wanted to please them. Angela wanted to give herself over to them in a way she’d ever experienced with Brett. It was as if she’d never really understood desire or sexual pleasure before tonight. Nothing in her life would ever equal this. She knew that now, and the realization of how deeply she’d already fallen for Ian and Nash sent a rush of endorphins to her brain again.
“I’m about halfway done with removing the wax,” said Nash. “Ian is going to take over now. What color are you, love?”
“Green, Sir,” she whispered. Had he just called her “love” again, here in front of everyone? She mentally shook it away. She couldn’t let her thought
s go there. Not yet. She had to keep her emotions under control. Things were already out of hand. If she wasn’t careful, she’d blurt out what she felt for them and then everything would turn to shit. When a woman told a man they loved him, that gave him power over her. Power to hurt you and humiliate her.
Ian’s wielding of the knife blade to scrape off the wax was a bit rougher than Nash’s had been, but Angela welcomed it. Each pass of the metal against her skin chased away thoughts of falling in love, and the pain Brett had caused her. The cool sensation sent fresh desire coursing through her, and soon she was whimpering and sighing.
It became difficult to lie still. Her clit was on fire now, and when she realized they still weren’t done with this, she moaned loudly. By the time they turned her onto her back, all she wanted to do was beg them to fuck her, right there on the table, no matter who was watching.
“This won’t be as long a session,” said Ian. “And then we’ll give you a bathroom break. All right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
One of them rubbed baby oil over her arms again, her abdomen, her legs, and then her breasts. He teased her nipples into tight points, and Angela writhed against his touch. “Keep your arms at your side while we do this, Angela, so you don’t accidentally get burned.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The first drops of wax hit her left breast, just below the nipple, and Angela moaned loudly. The slight pain was exquisite. The warmth sent a jolt of electricity to both nipples, and as the wax cooled, the sensation was the same as if one of them was licking her breasts. After they dripped more wax onto each breast and then on her abdomen, Ian whispered close to her ear. “Are you ready? You know what’s coming next, right?”
“Oh, God…Yes, Sir.”
When the wax landed on both nipples at once, Angela writhed against the drop cloth and moaned loudly. She was barely aware of the sound of the cell phone camera again, and other voices. As they continued dripping wax onto her abdomen and the tops of her thighs, the only clear noises were the slight hissing she swore the wax made as it landed on her skin, and Ian and Nash asking her what color she was.
“Last application of wax, Angela.” Nash’s voice came from near her feet. “Open your legs a bit more.”
She did as he asked, tensing, knowing what he was going to do. The wax landed just above her clit, and then more was poured on her upper thighs. When they started to scrape it off, they were more careful with the blade than they’d been earlier, or it could have been that she was now used to it.
“We’re not going to use the knife on your nipples,” said Ian. Angela didn’t answer him. All she did was let out a slow exhale as his fingers peeled the cooled wax off her nipples. Each tug and scrape sent a fresh wave of passion to her soaked pussy and throbbing clit. When someone she assumed was Nash began to scrape the wax off her pubic area at the same time, she moaned loudly again. She was going to come, right there in front of whoever was currently watching them, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Sir,” she whispered. “Yellow.”
“What do you need, Angela?” asked Ian.
“I don’t want anyone else to hear this.”
She inhaled his cologne as his breath passed close to her face. “Whisper it to me then.”
“I’m going to come. I can’t hold it back any longer.”
“No you’re not,” he whispered, his voice full of wicked humor. “Because if you do, about fifty of your friends and neighbors will watch me and Nash paddle your ass until it’s purple. Got it?”
Angela was shaking by the time they finished scraping off the wax and took off her blindfold. She’d held off her orgasm, but it had taken every ounce of willpower, and she was now mentally and physically exhausted. Nash and Ian dressed her again, as if she were a child, and then helped her down from the table. They took turns holding her against their leather-clad bodies, and then gave her water to drink.
Ian escorted her to the bathroom and waited outside for her. When she emerged, he pulled her into a tight embrace again. “I have never been so proud of you, Angela.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Would you like to see the pictures we took?”
She nodded, snuggling deeper against his chest. She never wanted to leave here. She wanted to move into Nash’s house and stay with him and Ian for the rest of her life. Her sudden reaction shocked her and frightened her a bit. It was that intense.
When they returned to the table, Nash was almost finished cleaning up from their play. She knelt on the floor at his feet, and when he was finished, he told her to stand. He opened his phone and showed her the first picture. The design on her back was a bit rough, but she recognized the Sleepy Cat Peak logo right away. “Oh my goodness…that is amazing.”
“Do you like it?” Nash’s voice was full of pride.
“It’s beautiful. May I have a copy of this picture, Sir? I want to keep it always.”
“Of course. I’ll text it to you. I deleted the ones that didn’t come out well, so we only have one more.” The second picture was a design where her breasts had been decorated to resemble hills topped with flowers that cascaded down over her abdomen, pussy, and legs. Angela just stared at it, unable to comprehend how something so beautiful could have been done with wax.
“Nash…I’m sorry…Sir, this is amazing. It really is.”
He beamed at her, his eyes full of what could only be called admiration. “Thank you, Angela. I’m so pleased with how well you did.”
“I loved it.”
“Even the knife?”
She nodded. “Yes. It was exhilarating.”
“Then we’ll have to do it again. But for now, come with us.”
Her skin still felt warm all over, as though it was glowing. She also no longer felt self-conscious walking around the club with them. Unless Ian had been teasing her, everyone here tonight had already seen her naked. She couldn’t possibly be more exposed or vulnerable than she’d already been. The worst was over, and she’d enjoyed it immensely.
They led her to the same leather pad where she’d watched Carma being chained to the wall. Now that she was closer to it, Angela realized the chains were real. Like the kind you might find in Home Depot, and buy to use for help in pulling a tree stump out of the ground.
“Back up against it, Angela,” said Ian. “We’ll start in front this time. Any questions?”
She shook her head and forced herself to answer him. “No, Sir.”
He put the blindfold back on, and then he kissed her on the lips while Nash fastened leather cuffs around each wrist and placed ankle cuffs around her boots. Ian released the kiss when Nash was finished. “You taste like heaven,” he said quietly. “I can’t wait to taste your pussy later.”
“Oh, God…”
“You’re ready to come again, aren’t you, Angela?”
“Sir…please…you know I am.”
“I know it. But you know the rules. Not until we say so.”
“I don’t know if I can…”
“You’d better,” said Nash, unlacing her corset. “Or Ian and I will make good on our earlier threat to paddle you in front of everyone. We will literally ask everyone to come over here and watch.”
Angela concentrated on breathing in and out as she was stripped naked again, except for her boots. The sound of chains moving sent a shiver up and down her spine. She felt tugging as her arms and legs were spread wide, and she assumed they were threading the chains through the rings in the cuffs. The pad behind her was soft and comfortable against her back and ass.
“What color are you, love?” asked Nash.
“Green, Sir.” She hadn’t imagined it this time. Nash had most definitely called her “love” again. But that didn’t mean necessarily mean anything, did it? It was only a word. A word that most people assigned huge weight to, and placed a large amount of emotional emphasis on and meaning to when it was used, even in the context of—“Oh fuck!”
She hadn’t meant to shout, but w
hen the paddle struck her swollen pussy lips, it stung like crazy.
“Now we have her attention,” muttered Ian. One of them struck her again, this time with what felt like a flogger, across the nipples. She sucked in a deep breath, bracing for more blows, but instead was treated to a tongue raking across both nipples, and a palm caressing her pussy.
She moaned loudly when a thumb grazed her clit. “What color?” asked Nash softly.
“Green, Sir,” she whispered.
“Good girl. Angela, I promise you that we will let you come. I am so proud of you. We both are.”
His voice was filled with so much emotion that the dam broke and something let loose deep inside her soul. “Thank you, Sir.” She didn’t even try to stop the tears as they flowed, soaking her blindfold and running underneath it to stain her cheeks. The flogger and paddle alternated striking her sensitive spots, and she couldn’t even keep up with the sensations. She stopped trying to and just let go.
Every few strikes, just when she thought she’d have to call a safeword, one of them would caress her pussy or her lick her nipples. They planted soft, teasing kisses on her lips, nibbled her neck until she trembled from the shivers running up and down her spine, and flicked her clit until she was screaming from pleasure, pain, and frustration combined.
Her nipples burned and her clit was on fire by the time they finally stopped. She was unfastened from the wall and pulled onto someone’s lap. It felt like they were sitting on the carpet at the foot of the leather pad, and she recognized Ian’s cologne. “What color are you, baby girl?” he asked softly.
“Green, Sir.”
“Ready to face the pad this time?”
“I think so, Sir.”
“Do you need water or a bathroom break?” asked Nash.
“No, Sir. I’m ready.”
Angela’s legs felt like rubber as they helped her stand again and face the pad. As before, the cuffs were placed on her wrists and ankles and she heard the chains moving and felt the guys attaching them to the wall. Ian placed the blindfold on her again, and then a flogger and what felt like a leather strap alternated on her ass cheeks and upper back.