by Livia Grant
“I think it’s devious but it’s also not my decision, sir!”
He laughed. “You’re honest, but you know your place.” He resumed, and now the spanks were raining down fiercely. She desperately wished he’d move to the other cheek to give this one a break, but he smacked the same spot over and over and over until it felt like it was roasting. By now she was squealing and struggling.
He stopped. “Color?”
He wanted to know if she was okay. “Green, sir.”
“Good.” He switched to the other cheek. It was only a minute or two before she was wishing he’d switch back to the first one. She clenched her jaw and tried not to tense up. Most doms wanted subs to stay relaxed because it showed an acceptance of the pain. She suddenly discovered it helped if she clenched the cheek of the one that wasn’t being spanked, but left the targeted one loose. She approached the point where she was contemplating ‘yellow’, when he finally, blessedly, stopped.
But then she heard him reach into his bag and she un-relaxed.
“Sari, how many times did you miss something because you weren’t listening?”
Shit. He’d noticed. “Three times, sir.”
“So, three on each cheek.” A moment later something hard and wooden smacked down on the tender redness of her left cheek. She squealed and threw her hand back without thinking. He grabbed it and pulled it high up on her back, once more immobilizing her.
“Oh, no. You resist a punishment, and it starts over. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!” His voice seemed less easygoing right now, as though she’d triggered something. Before she could form another thought, the implement crashed down again. She wailed out loud, but managed to mostly stay still. He waited only a moment before he smacked the same spot twice more in rapid succession. Her cry spilled out again, muffled by the crook of her arm where her face was pressed.
“Color?”
“Yellow, sir.”
“Can you do the other side?”
She nodded. He tapped her sore cheek, wanting a better answer.
“Yes, sir.”
He rested the cool paddle on her hot right cheek. The moment she felt it lift away she tensed. She was prepared when it hit, letting out only a short exclamation. He wasted no time in repeating it twice more and this time she barely let out a peep despite the incredible sting.
“Good girl.” He helped her off his lap and she sank to the floor on her knees in front of him.
“Eyes.” She looked up. “You okay?”
She smiled. “Very okay, sir.”
“It’s been a while since I did that. I forgot how much I enjoyed it. So, we’ve used ten minutes and one of the monitors is giving us the evil eye to get going. Ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wrists.”
She paused for a moment before thrusting her arms straight out towards him. He turned to his bag, where he rummaged for a moment before coming up with a pair of black leather cuffs. He buckled them on and she relished the feel of the tightness around her wrists. It was a comforting sensation, one that she’d first realized she enjoyed when she’d buttoned the long sleeves of a dress around her wrists as a girl.
He hadn’t told her to put her arms down, so she remained still as he sat back, her eyes locked on his as ordered. At last he nodded and stood up.
Chapter 7
The floor of Black Light provided a large variety of equipment for play. Tables with plentiful restraints were scattered around the room. There were two spanking benches, and a set of stocks, rigging for suspension play, a St. Andrew’s cross, and a large hot tub. He could see the equipment for medical play in an alcove across the room, and next to the stage was a large wooden door that led to a dungeon. Around the perimeter were couches and tables for those who chose to watch the scenes.
Now that he was here, Adam wanted to explore all the opportunities. He was confident he would last the night. He hoped Sari would. He hadn’t gotten a good measure of her yet.
He led her over to the table for wax play, covered with a dropcloth that hung off the edges. There was another drop cloth below that covered the floor out to either side. A small table held an assortment of burning candles and a few other interesting things. On the floor was a bucket of water, and a fire extinguisher. Sari didn’t need to dwell on safety issues surrounding open flames, so he pushed her against the edge of the table and bent her over. He lifted her skirt and caressed her reddened ass, and reflected that as beautiful as an ass was before a spanking, it was even more beautiful after a spanking. The skin looked like a fine rose wine, with a few dark spots like raspberries. He slipped his hand between her legs and was rewarded with a moan as his fingers slid through her folds, slick and swollen. She didn’t need to know that his real purpose was to check to make sure she was clean-shaven, because he intended to have some fun with hot wax in that tender area. Catching and pulling stray hairs was not on the agenda. At least tonight.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered. She nodded.
He gathered her glossy hair in his hand and twisted it just enough to make a thick rope, and tugged her back to a standing position. He draped the hair over her shoulder and then let it go so he could grab the tab of the zipper at her neck. He pulled it down, leisurely following the curve of her back until the dress split open in a wide ‘V’. His hands slipped under the fabric. He guided it over her shoulders and down her front, stopping to caress her breasts on the way down. She had her head thrown back and was making little noises of pleasure as he tweaked her nipples. A small audience had gathered around and was watching her disrobing. He let the dress fall to the floor and puddle around her feet, while he continued to cup and squeeze the soft globes, just big enough to fit perfectly in the palms of his large hands. She was even curvier-looking out of the dress, and he slid his hands down, enjoying the solid grip of her hips. He turned her around to face him. She still had her eyes closed.
“Sari, step out of your shoes and climb up on the table. Spread your knees all the way to the edges. You can open your eyes.”
She hesitated only a moment when she opened her eyes to see the number of onlookers gathered around. But she lay back as instructed, letting her knees fall to the sides. He bent over to pick up her dress and shoes, placing them out of the way on a chair.
“I’m going to restrain you now.” He fastened a quick-release snap to her left wrist cuff, then raised her arm to stretch it over her head and clip it to a hook at the top of the table. He placed a rope around her left knee, and another around her left ankle, and fastened them with the snaps to more hooks on the very edge of the table, then moved to the other side to repeat the actions. She was spread wide, her most delicate tissues bared to him. She followed him with her eyes as he worked. He flashed her reassuring smiles, which she didn’t return. He sensed her wariness, but she didn’t object.
He placed a small amount of oil on his hands. “This will make the wax come off easier. Another time and place I might want it to stick – that’s an entirely different experience, I promise – but not today.” He rubbed his hands together to warm the oil and began spreading it in firm circles across her stomach and sides. He moved north to her breasts, spending an extra minute massaging the oil into the soft mounds with their crinkled brown areolas. She showed her appreciation by closing her eyes and letting out a breathy moan as he paid special attention to her nipples. He moved back down her body to her mound. At his touch, her eyes flew open with a scared look, perhaps not comprehending until now that her most intimate parts would also be a target for the wax. He massaged the area and was rewarded with a soft sigh, and eyes that closed again in bliss. He spread the oil the rest of the way down her legs to the cuffs on her ankles. He skipped her arms - they were too close to her face and he wouldn’t be putting any wax on them.
“If at any time you feel like the wax is burning you and not cooling, you just say ‘wax’ and I’ll remove that spot immediately. What’s the safeword?”
“Red, sir,” s
he responded immediately.
“And what’s the 11th commandment?”
She frowned. “Sir?”
“‘Thou shalt not damage thy submissive.’ I promise.”
“Thank you.” She forced a smile at him.
Her eyes tracked his every move as he picked up one of the pillar candles. Pillar, jar, and votive candles were generally okay, especially white and unscented. Colors or scents could raise the temperature quite a bit. But he would never pour the wax on her without testing it himself first. He held the candle above his wrist, closer than he would hold it to her, and dribbled it onto his skin. The pleasantly hot sensation, nowhere near to burning, told him this was safe to use. He repeated the test with the other candles, finding them all comfortable. Sari watched him closely.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
He moved over her stomach, raising the pillar about a meter into the air. “It cools as it drops, so I start high, and then get closer depending on how it feels to you.” He tipped the pillar and saw her muscles contract in anticipation. A small stream of wax spilled over the edge and down, splattering in little white dots on her stomach.
“How did that feel?”
“I hardly felt it, sir.”
He smiled and lowered the candle halfway. “How about now?” Another thin stream poured out onto her skin. She made a small noise of surprise.
“A lot warmer, sir, but very comfortable.”
He lowered it a bit more. This time she sighed.
“Too much?”
“No! A nice hot feeling but not burning. I liked it!” She smiled, looking more relaxed now.
“Then we’ll keep it here for now.” He began pouring a thin stream over her stomach in a circular pattern. The wax ran in rivulets across her stomach and down her sides; it ran into her belly button and he let the little dip fill up little by little until it was level. He was careful not to let it run into her pubic area, though he placed a small puddle right on her mound, which made her gasp. He began moving it a little lower and then a little higher, varying the temperature. He moved towards her breasts, her eyes glued to his face as she chewed her lip. He grinned as he raised the candle a little and dribbled wax right onto one nipple.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, and bucked up.
“Too hot?” he asked. He was still learning her tolerances and was checking in more than he would with someone else.
“No!” she declared. “Perfect! Though…”
He raised an eyebrow and waited.
“If it pleases you, sir, I think a little hotter might be even nicer.”
This was working out better than he expected.
Chapter 8
Sari saw Adam’s eyebrows go way up before he broke into a grin.
“My pleasure.” He put the candle down, then peeled the small dollop of wax off her nipple. “But first, I’m going to do something that will make everything feel more intense.”
He placed a blindfold over her eyes, securing it behind her head. He was right – everything suddenly became more intense. She strained to hear where he was, to anticipate what he was about to do. There was a sudden warmth across the cooled wax on her stomach. The warmth moved back and forth this time, instead of in circles, so when it dripped on skin that was bare she felt a sudden flash of stinging hot pain, and then a lingering, dwindling heat. He’d clearly moved the candle closer to her. She let out her breath in pleasure. Then she felt the wax move down her legs in a zig-zag pattern. It dribbled down onto the tender skin of her inner thighs. It was delicious. It was about one degree away from being too hot. She wiggled a little as she squealed, and the restraint of the ropes only intensified the sensations.
“Oh…oh…please…” Her mind drifted away again. The slave struggled in her bonds as her master tormented her. He took great delight in her cries, and her soft pleading only increased his desires… She felt herself sliding almost into a state of bliss. Nothing else existed except these sensations.
The wax moved back up her body, circling over her stomach, before heading again towards her breasts. This time, instead of heading for her nipple, she felt it circle the base of her breast. Around and around in a spiral, it climbed slowly upwards. Her breathing grew rapid as she anticipated the arrival of the hot stream at the summit. Just before it arrived, the heat went away. A moment later, something hotter than the sun touched her nipple and she sucked air in and bucked up as far as the ropes let her. And then – it was gone. There was no sensation of heat left at all. She squirmed in confusion. And then, as something cold and wet trickled down her breast between the spirals of wax, she understood. He’d touched her with an ice cube, instead of the heat she’d been prepared for.
“Sir!” she breathed out.
“Shh.”
She struggled to figure out what he was going to do next. This was madness. The wax was intense – but the ice took it to a whole new level. Now she not only didn’t know where he would strike next; she didn’t know what kind of sensation to expect.
She didn’t have to wait long. An icy wetness suddenly hit her other nipple and before she could do more than gasp, intense heat dropped on top of it. This heat lasted and she felt rivulets of wax spill down the sides of her breasts. She cried out in pleasure. The heat built and built as more wax dropped on top. She groaned and struggled to keep breathing with the pain. At last there seemed to be no more increase in heat there, but the icy wetness returned, the water also spilling down her breasts, and running down her sides, leaving her gasping and twitching with the cold and tickling trails of water.
The first nipple was still bare. A sharp heat hit squarely in the center, making her gasp even though she was prepared for it. Her mind was a dark kaleidoscope of heat and cold, of pain and pleasure, and she was in ecstasy.
The sensations alternated all the way back down her chest, and then stomach. She tensed as she felt the heat near her sensitive folds. There was a pause, and then a burst of heat at the top of her slit that made her cry out. She felt the wax dripping down, through her slit, and braced, but it had cooled enough by the time it reached her inner skin that it was merely warm. The heat of her arousal right now was ten times hotter than the heat of the candle. She moaned and strained at her ropes again, lifting her hips in supplication. She felt one hand on her skin, pulling her folds open to either side, exposing her clit. She held her breath. The wax hit her clit, the heat bursting across it like fireworks, and she almost had an orgasm from the intensity. She let out a guttural cry and panted, straining to close her legs and increase the already-fading sensation. She felt it hit again, the heat this time muted from the layer of cooling wax already there. She tried to twist and pull, part of her wanting to escape the intensity, and part of her trying to increase it. At last the sensations stopped.
She felt his fingers lifting the wax away from between her legs, her juices much too slick to allow it to stick. The cool air once more rushed over her clit and the change in temperature was too much.
“Please, sir, please let me come!” she begged.
“I’m going to get some of this wax off of you first. I have a little game before we’re done.”
His hands pried at the wax covering her breasts. It came off easily thanks to the oil, and as the cool air hit her nipples she felt them crinkle into hard points.
He put something circular on her left breast and then suddenly the hot wax burst over her nipple again. This time, though, it didn’t run down her breasts, and she realized that he held some kind of ring meant to contain the wax. She felt him pour a little more on top before lifting the ring off and repeating the same thing on her right nipple.
“Hold really still.”
She felt something being pushed into the softened wax on the left side, and then again on the right.
“You have one small votive candle anchored onto the wax on top of each nipple. They’ve been burning for a while, so any movement is going to cause hot wax to dribble over the side. Do you understand?”
/> Oh… “Yes, sir.” She scarcely breathed for a minute or two. She willed herself to relax. She could do this, no problem.
Until she heard the unmistakable sound of a Hitachi vibrator turn on at the foot of the table.
“Sir? What are you doing?”
His quiet chuckle told her almost everything.
“No, sir! Please!”
“Are you scared, Sari?” The lilt in his voice suggested he was enjoying her predicament, like any good sadist would.
“Yes, sir. No, sir. I don’t know!” She mentally crossed her fingers for luck. “I’m fine, sir.”
She heard the vibrator come closer, and when it finally touched between her wide-spread legs, she jerked. She felt a hot drop splash onto her left breast. A quick sizzle of pain flashed on, then off. But suddenly her focus was not on the wax on her breasts. It was all between her legs. Her needy, swollen, wet cunt. She groaned as the vibrations buzzed through her. She desperately needed this release, but this was predicament bondage at its best. To get the release she craved, she would have to accept the hot wax spilling down her tender skin. She had to accept that her pleasure could only come with pain. That thought did it, and whether she wanted to or not she catapulted over the edge into an enormous orgasm, shuddering and jerking. She felt rivulets of pain slide down her breasts and she screamed with pleasure. When the Hitachi turned off, she continued to shudder, the wax still splashing and finding bare skin, sending little flashes of hot pain through her fading arousal.
By the time the wax had cooled his fingers were on her breast lifting it away. She felt a cool cloth wipe over the heated skin. She was liquid and languid, drifting in some sort of in-between world. After he removed the blindfold, she forced her eyes open and smiled at him. He was busily lifting away large sections of wax from her skin.