“Aren’t we going to play?”
“We are. Do you need to be watched?”
Julia shook her head vigorously, so much so that Tom chuckled. She could and would, but she didn’t object at all to more privacy.
“Then we’ll go in. Watching others is fine, but for now, we need to focus on what works for us.”
Chapter Nine
It wasn’t a sense of privacy that brought Tom inside, exactly. He’d wanted to show Julia something new, and the perfect furniture for what he had in mind wasn’t a spanking bench or a St. Andrew’s Cross but a big sturdy table. There was one that would barely do outside, but the dining room table was perfect. He could have altered his plans if Julia were feeling especially exhibitionistic, but he had everything set up.
He watched her eyes widen as she took in the table. It was covered with a simple black bedsheet, underneath which was a soft pad designed to go under a sleeping bag for camping. On top of the sheet were several coils of rope, a bottle of baby oil and a few dozen colored paraffin candles in open glass jars, a box of gloves and a curved metal-handled knife. The knife looked scary, but it wasn’t designed to harm anyone. Its handle fit his hand well and its short, curved blade gave him perfect control.
He gave her a moment to take it all in.
“What do you intend to do to me, Sir?”
He struck a match and lit a tall white tapering candle. “I intend to dribble hot wax onto your naked body,” he said. He blew out the match, watching her.
She blinked. “And you think I’ll like it?” she asked incredulously.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He patted the table, on top of the pad. “Lie right here, pet.”
She looked at him warily but walked forward. She sat up on the table, then swiveled.
“Facedown at first.” He started lighting the candles one by one from the taper. A soft vanilla fragrance filled the air. The taper was scented. The other candles were not.
“At first.” She stayed as she was, knees bent, back still off the table.
He stroked her shoulder, then let his hand drift down to her breast. “Don’t worry. I won’t neglect your sensitive spots. I just want to build up to them.” He brushed his knuckle across her nipple once, and then again. He was delighted to find it give more resistance the second time. “You’re excited.”
“Or cold.”
He put his hand on her sternum and urged her slowly down. She rolled over onto her belly. He went back to lighting candles, keeping them in order in neat rows. He didn’t want to forget which one had been burning the longest. Already wax was pooling liquidly on top of the first candle. He touched her shoulder, then walked into the living room to turn on the stereo. A soft jazz CD was already set and ready.
She tensed when he reentered and only partly relaxed when he touched her shoulder again. “Do you know that I won’t hurt you?”
She nodded. “My mind knows. My heart knows. I’m just trying to convince the rest of me.”
“I won’t hurt you.” He looked over her body, following his gaze with his fingers, enjoying her soft skin. The sight of her made him hard. He pushed her legs apart, exposing her pussy to his view. His cock twitched. “I’ll fuck you, but I won’t hurt you.”
“Promise to fuck me?” she asked.
“I promise.” He slid his finger along her folds and was delighted to find them wet. “You’re getting fucked today.”
“Hopefully not with a flaming candle.” She said it lightly, but he had a sense that she wasn’t sure.
“No, with my cock.” Hell if he was going to let a candle do a job he could do better. “Close your eyes, love.” He didn’t want to use the blindfold because there were moments when it was going to be useful for her to anticipate. When he got to her front he wanted her to see the colors.
She closed them. He reached for the bottle of baby oil.
He knew it would be cool on her skin and she jumped as he dribbled it on. Whatever signal the body used to warn of unpleasant temperatures, it seemed to send the message “wrong” before the more specific message “too cold” or “too hot”. He’d once seen a girl who’d begged her Master for a branding scream when touched with ice, sure that a hot iron was touching her thigh. Tom had thought it a cruel joke—if her Master hadn’t wanted to do it, he should have said no. But it was a lesson that could be put to softer uses. He rubbed the oil from the center of her back where it pooled, up onto her shoulders and then down to cover her ass and her thighs.
He grabbed a glove and pulled it on. He didn’t need to for the sake of waxing, but the sight of her puckered rose made it hard to resist. He poured more oil onto his gloved fingers and then pushed one against her anus. Without even needing to be directed, she relaxed against his touch and let him in. She moaned.
“Like that, do you?” he asked.
“I shouldn’t, should I?”
He chuckled. “Normally I’ll want you to answer my questions, but that would be a yes. And there’s no reason you shouldn’t enjoy it. So many delicate lovely nerves back there. The more you can enjoy, the better off you are, don’t you think?”
“How about you?” she asked.
“Yes, I enjoy doing it to you.”
She turned her head toward him and opened her eyes. “Not what I meant. I mean… Would you want me to do that to you? Say, when I was sucking you off?”
It was almost enough to make him forget the candles. His cock twitched. He tended to think of her as a novice, ready to be taught, and in some ways she was. But she was also a smart, independent woman with ideas of her own. This one, however, surprised him. “Yes.”
She grinned. “Thought so.”
“And when I want you to, I’ll order it.”
“Oh!” The grin faded for a moment, and then returned as she took that in. If she thought it would be a submissive act on his part to let her, she was mistaken. In any case, it wasn’t acts or positions that were submissive or not—it was the dynamic that surrounded them.
“Yes Sir,” she said.
Reluctantly, he ended the internal massage. He pulled the glove off and tossed it in the trash. Then he picked up a green candle.
She was watching him, her eyes widening in fear.
“Turn your head, love, and close your eyes.”
She obeyed. “Yes Sir.”
He blew the candle out, then tipped it over, dribbling the hot wax onto his hand. It stung for a moment. Before it could cool and harden he ran his hand quickly over her back. It was still hot enough to feel, and it would help her acclimate.
He lit the candle again from the taper and picked up another green one. He blew it out and held it over Julia’s back before tipping it. The hot wax spilled onto her below her right shoulder blade, on top of the wax he had smeared before, which deadened the sensation a little. She inhaled sharply and then let out her breath slowly.
He put his hand on her other shoulder to steady her as he reached for another candle. “Not too bad?”
“No. I can take it, Sir.”
He blew out the candle, a red one this time, and trickled it on her left side, making a parallel pattern to the green dribble on the right. Again the sharp breath, held longer this time. And then the relaxation. She knew how it felt now. The momentary sensation of burning, lasting a second or two, followed by a quick fade to warmth. Now he could play in earnest.
The hardening wax tugged at the skin gently, he knew, pulling on nerves. What looked at first like pain play was in fact soft and sensuous, with small punctuated moments of heat. He worked down from her back to more sensitive areas. He dribbled a little onto her ass and thighs, moving quickly. Blowing the candles out and relighting them in between wasn’t necessary, but it made the wax slightly cooler when it fell, and decreased the amount of soot in the dripping liquid, enhancing the visual appeal. He was in no hurry. From Julia’s soft sighs, she wasn’t either. Inch by inch, he covered more of her skin in red and green wax, alternating quick rivulets from a fast-moving can
dle with splotches made by spilling the wax from higher up.
He set down the last candle and kissed her nape. She had a soft, content, spaced-out smile on her face that grew even more blissful when he kissed her. He changed his mind and decided not to tell her to roll over. Instead he picked her up and turned her in his arms before setting her down. He recognized a girl in subspace.
Her eyes opened dreamily. He opened the bottle of oil again, and this time poured it on his hands before he spread it. He didn’t want to play with the sensation of cold this time. He slicked up every inch of her body, especially enjoying the softness of her breasts and the smoothness of her mound. She spread her legs for him, inviting him to touch her further. Her pussy glistened, even without any oil. It made him want to climb right up on the table and fuck her hard and fast. There would be time for that later.
“Watch.” He picked up a candle. It had already been poured off and relit twice. Julia watched as the wax streamed down from above, but she didn’t flinch, even when the hot wax dribbled along her center, from just below her breasts almost to her navel. Instead she arched her body, drawn to the wax as a moth to a flame. He’d been sure she’d enjoy the experience. Now that he realized how much, he wasn’t going to cut it short just to satisfy his aching cock.
He circled her nipples with green wax, carefully avoiding the hard, stiff center, and she writhed on the table as he did so. When he circled the second one, she pouted. He followed with a red candle, dotting the center, encasing the hard buds in red. Wax could be a particularly interesting sensation on parts of the body that had the ability to fill with blood and change their size, as the wax tried to maintain its shape regardless of what the skin did beneath. Even with the thin covering of baby oil it would try to adhere to the skin, although the oil made its grip less firm.
He expected her legs to close when he moved along to her belly and thighs, but Julia kept them open, thrusting her pelvis forward. It seemed a shame to ignore such an invitation. He waited until she was arched at the right angle and dribbled wax onto her mound, letting it run down toward her clit hood. She shuddered, moaned, then closed her eyes. God, she’s beautiful.
He let her enjoy the moment for a few seconds, and then moved along the table so that he could kiss her. She opened her mouth to invite him to deepen the kiss, which had been his intention all along.
He pulled back to let her catch her breath. I want to keep this woman. I want to keep doing wicked, sexy things to her. There’s so many things we can do, it will never get old even if we do. And I want to do them all with her.
“What is it, Sir?” Julia asked. Her eyes were open again and she was looking at him, concerned.
“I love you,” he said.
She turned away. “I bet you say that to all the girls you have naked and covered in wax.”
“No. There have been several of those, but only one you.” He picked up a candle and waited, his heart beating hard. It had never been hard for him to find a woman. He always strived to please but never had to worry. Now, to not see her face was agony. I should have waited until the end of the scene. But the feeling had come to him so strongly it had seemed almost a deceit not to say it. He’d been thinking it since they’d gone to bed the night before—a realization of why being separated from her had stung so much, and why his heart ached when he saw her with Roger.
She slowly turned her head toward him. “When’s the last time you said that to a woman?” she asked, fixing him with a gaze that would have convinced the hardest criminal that she could see straight into his soul. In this case, that was precisely what Tom wanted, and he met it full on.
“Nev—” He paused, realizing it wasn’t quite the truth.
“Hmm?” she prompted.
“Never, except for my mother.”
Her eyes widened. The silence hung thick in the air between them for a long moment, and then she smiled. “I think I can accept sharing you with your mum,” she said. “But in general, I don’t think I share well.”
“I’m not asking you to share.”
She smiled softly. “May I shut my eyes please, Sir?”
It wasn’t the response he wanted, but the look of bliss on her face was irresistible. “Yes, Julia.”
She closed her eyes. “When you call me Julia, it sounds so tender and touches my heart. When you call me Kelly, it makes me want to obey. I haven’t sorted it out, but I like it all. I want it all. Please.”
He put his hand on her shoulder and then tipped the candle slowly. It felt odd, spilling hot wax on her after what he’d said, but at the same time everything about her posture indicated that she wanted to continue. He dribbled the liquid on her belly and watched her arch. Her hands clutched the edge of the table hard.
“Yes!” she hissed. “More!”
He grinned, happy for once to take direction. He had a whole row of candles ready to go, and the most beautiful canvas in the world to work on. His hands danced color onto her body to a soundtrack of soft jazz playing in the background, punctuated by her sharp breaths and coos of pleasure and the soft whoosh as he blew the candles out before pouring their liquid treasure.
She opened her eyes and watched. At first she pulled back when he tilted the candles, but soon she was arching her body to meet the heat. When he put the last candle back on the table, above where the sheet ended a foot beyond her head, she gazed at him with desire that warmed his heart.
No matter how much he wanted a response to his declaration of love, he was going to finish the scene with her. And the next scene. And the scene after that. As long as she let him, until she loved him too. He looked over at the knife and picked it up, turning right back to her to meet her gaze.
“Trust me?” he asked. He knew she did. He wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes.”
He slid the blade along her skin, scraping the wax off. He started with her sides, flecking shards of hardened green and red wax onto the black sheet. The wax came easily, the layer of baby oil smoothing its departure from her soft skin. She closed her eyes again. Concentrating, he removed the hard wax from her with smooth strokes, starting with her less sensitive areas. Her pussy was glistening, her labia swollen. He ran the handle of the knife along her folds, knowing the coolness of the metal, even warmed from his hand, would startle at first. He expected her to pull away, but instead she simply spread her thighs farther.
Her breasts were still covered in wax, and there was still a hardened pool in her navel. But that could wait, and besides, he thought it looked lovely. He put the knife down next to the candles on the bare wood of the table. She opened her eyes at the sound, and looked between his hands to find them empty.
“My time, Kelly,” he said.
“Yes Sir,” she whispered.
He moved to the end of the table where her feet were and pulled on the sheet. With wax still on her back, she didn’t slide off it but came forward. He tugged until her ankles were in easy reach, then grabbed them and pulled some more. When her pussy was at the edge of the table, he was satisfied.
He unzipped his pants and plunged his hot, aching cock into her soft, wet pussy.
She wrapped her legs around his ass and pulled herself forward, taking him deeper. He grabbed her breasts, wax crinkling and cracking in his rough grasp. Her skin was warm, almost hot to the touch.
He thrust hard into her, powerful thighs driving him deep. Her moans were an even better reward than the velvety wet softness of her pussy around his cock. His balls tightened and his cock swelled and it took a force of effort not to come in her then and there. His gaze swept her body, from where his cock was thrusting in her pussy upward, over her soft round belly and her wax-covered breasts until he met her gaze.
“What are you waiting for, Sir?” she asked.
“You.”
She smiled coyly and then said softly, “I love you too.” Her hand slipped down her belly. “May I?”
“Yes.” His heart soared.
She rubbed her clit, shyly at firs
t, avoiding his gaze. Her hand sped up. He slowed down, because it was the only way to stop from coming.
“Look at me, Kelly.”
She met his gaze.
He watched, waiting. There was something pleasurable about making her do the work while his cock throbbed inside her. He moved enough to hold himself on the edge, watching, waiting. He usually had complete control, but something about her erased that. He’d never wanted any woman so much.
He listened to her breathing as it grew ragged. He dug his fingernails into the wax around her nipples and peeled it off, uncovering the tender peaks while leaving the puckered areola waxed. A moan encouraged him. He flicked the exposed buds lightly. Her breathing took on a touch of delicious desperation.
You like that. He didn’t have to ask. He moved his hips, confident now that his control would last, but still he tried to hold back his climax. He didn’t think he’d have to wait long.
“Please, Sir.” Her mouth tightened after the words. She too was now trying to hold back.
He couldn’t resist the temptation to tease. “Please stop?”
“Please let us both come!”
The suggestion was too good to pass up. “Come for me, baby.” He put his hand on top of hers and pressed down on the finger that was most directly on her clit. He thrust hard into her. Her eyes widened and then squeezed shut tightly as her whole face scrunched up. Her pussy tightened around him deliciously and then her pleasure seemed to ripple up from there, her belly thrusting forward then falling again and tightening almost as if doing a crunch. Then she stretched and grabbed the edges of the table. She screamed.
He joined her with a grunt, feeling his cum surge through his cock. Held for so long, the sensation was powerful, and only the beautiful sight of Julia in the throes of pleasure stopped his eyes from snapping shut. He pulsed again and again inside her, the contractions of her pussy urging him on, milking every last drop from his balls.
“Yes Sir,” she purred as she peeked out from lidded eyes. A soft smile formed on her luscious lips.
He inserted his hands between her shoulders and the table, then pulled her up so he could hold her. Normally he would have preferred to peel all the wax off a woman before pressing her close, but he wanted to hold Julia too badly to worry about that. He picked her up off the table and then turned around, sitting down himself. A little wax fell off her back and onto the floor. There’d be time to clean that up later. Right now there was nothing more important than cuddling.
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