“What do you think you’re doing?”
His voice startled her and she froze in fear.
“I was just—”
“What did I tell you to do, Felicity?”
“To stay still until you came back, Sir.”
“And is that how I left you?” He walked around and stood in front of her. He was still completely naked and somehow that made him all the more powerful.
“No, Sir.” She dipped her head and looked at the marble floor.
“Oh, Felicity. What am I to do with you? Get back into the position I left you in.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She sat back on her heels and held in a yelp.
“I tried to be quick. I was being merciful, Felicity. If you’d have followed my instructions, you’d be standing now, but I’m going to make you kneel like that while I tell you what you have coming.”
Felicity’s arse and thighs burned, but she daren’t move, not even a little wiggle.
“Look up at me,” he commanded.
She lifter her gaze to his.
“I’ve just been upstairs to my bedroom. I’ve lit some very special candles. When we get upstairs, I’m going to restrain you, blindfold you, then, at my leisure, I’m going to pour the candle wax all over your beautiful body.”
Felicity gulped. Hot wax didn’t sound like much fun. She’d once had her legs waxed and nearly left after the first strip had been removed. She knew this would be different, but it still didn’t really appeal to her. She contemplated using her safe word, but the wicked amusement in her Master’s gaze melted the word on her tongue.
“Then I’ll remove the cooled wax. I have a particularly special technique I’m going to show you. I won’t tell you about it because that will spoil the surprise.”
He looked down at her. The silence stretched out, and Felicity fought the urge to wiggle, to shift, as the burn in her bottom and thighs increased with every passing moment. It was excruciating. For the second time in as many minutes, she thought of crying out ‘jewelry’ and stopping it all.
“You can stand now.”
Sir said the magic words stopping her from blurting out hers. She eagerly scrambled to her feet with a rasping sigh of relief.
“Now come with me.”
Chapter Seven
She remembered what was in store for her and the relief ceased in her lungs and escaped in rapid-fire shots of anxiety. His hand against the small of her back calmed her. It might sound scary, it was bound to hurt, but she trusted her Master. She knew he would only hurt her enough to bring her ecstasy.
He guided her with the softest pressure, leading her to the spiral stairs and up to the floor above. A cut-out mezzanine level stood before her. The same marble floor stretched out and the same breathtaking view peeped through the window.
A huge metal bed dominated the room, which reached across the length of the apartment. Black and imposing, the headboard and footboard looked like intricate iron gates, rail after rail topped with scrolling finials. At each corner stood a coiled metal pole, like black barley twists, and between each pole a matching set of rails and finials.
Covering the huge mattress was a fitted, shiny purple sheet. Felicity assumed it was PVC and especially designed for all kinds of messy play. She also noticed, lying over the pillows and sheet, four chains, ending in leather cuffs. It looked like they were permanently attached to the bed.
It was a Master bed. A Master’s bed, no doubt about it. On either side of it were chunky, dark-wood cabinets and on top of the one farthest from her stood an array of candles. Two of them were thick and stumpy candles in white and a candelabra held long tapers in a rainbow of colors.
“Lie in the middle of the bed on your back, please, Felicity.”
She jumped. She’d been so absorbed in taking in the amazing surroundings that she’d virtually forgotten he was there. Felicity rushed forward and climbed onto the bed. The PVC was cold on her hands and knees and colder still when she lay down. It crinkled and squeaked beneath her—a very strange experience, indeed. She wouldn’t like to sleep on it, but she could appreciate its practicalities for play.
Sir leaned over the bed, placing one knee onto the mattress, then he grabbed hold of the leather cuffs. Felicity automatically raised her hands above her head and stretched out toward him.
“Good girl,” he murmured, wrapping the leather around her wrist and fastening the buckle.
She was slightly less eager to stretch out her leg. Doing so exposed her in a very intimate way. She didn’t hesitate for long as he jangled the chain impatiently. Even with just one wrist and ankle chained, she felt vulnerable. She yanked against the bonds and found she had some scope before it went taught. The leather was soft and supple, but was still stiff enough to dig into her flesh when she tugged.
Her Master strode to the other side of the bed and she eagerly stretched toward him. When he finished buckling the last restraint, he stroked her calf. The reassuring touch made her smile.
Sir moved out of sight for a moment. Felicity heard a drawer slide open and moments later, close again. When he came back, he had a black silk scarf in his hands. He literally slid across the bed to sit beside her.
“Lift your head,” he commanded.
She complied. He quickly slipped the scarf around her face.
“Lie down again.”
She did, and he tied the knot so it rested at the side of her head. She couldn’t see anything. It disorientated her, and her heart thumped harder. She heard him move off the bed then there was silence and she was left to think about what would happen next.
Felicity longed to see what he was doing so she could anticipate the experience of the wax on her body. How would it feel? So many times she’d wondered that in the short time she’d known her Master. She couldn’t bring herself to think of him by his first name in a situation like this. It didn’t feel right. How many more first experiences could he provide her with?
“Felicity, I’m depriving you of your sight, at least at first, to teach you a lesson in trust. You can’t see, but right now I have one of the tapers in my hand—the red one, in fact—and I’m tipping it and…” His breath hitched and he paused for a second. “I’m testing the heat on my arm. Not a drop of wax will land on you before I’ve tested it first. You are my main concern, Felicity. I think of you before everything else. I confess, you’re the first thought in my mind when I wake and the last when I go to sleep at night. What do you think of that?”
Felicity stayed silent for a moment. What did she think of that? Momentarily, she was stunned.
“I can barely comprehend it, Sir. It boggles my mind. I think of you, Sir, all the time. Whatever I’m doing, wherever I am, I find things that remind me of you and I smile, and I like that, Sir. I hadn’t even thought that you could, that maybe you might think of me too.”
“Oh, I think of you all the time, Felicity. When I’m meant to be concentrating on the figures, one…” She felt an explosion of heat just above her belly button a second after he paused, and she gasped and pulled in her stomach.
“Two.” Another drop landed a little higher, between her ribs, and she felt the two hot impact spots melting together into a river of warmth.
“Well, you get the idea.”
She heard the mirth in his voice. He was enjoying watching her squirm. Another drop of wax splashed between her breasts. The impact burned, and she writhed against her bonds. It wasn’t nice. It wasn’t pleasant, but the warmth and the condensing pull of the cooling wax was strangely sensual. She wanted more as much as she wanted it to stop.
“I think of you over breakfast, whenever I see a pretty item of jewelry, when I look out of my office window, when I touch my desk. I see you there, stretched out and eager for your spanking. I think about you when I pick up my briefcase, when I loosen my tie. All the time, Felicity. You’re always on my mind.”
She heard a rasp, sensed movement beside her. Had he put the candle down?
“I get overw
helmed by thoughts of you all the time.”
Another dribble landed at the top of her left breast and the drop turned into a stream that burned a trail down to just before her nipple. She clenched her teeth, expecting the burning to explode on her sensitive nub, but it didn’t. She relaxed.
“Another confession, Felicity. When I think of you, I get turned on.”
She stiffened again when the stream of molten liquid hit the top of the opposite breast. His voice came from the same place, so he must have been leaning right over her. The stream wiggled down her breast and once again stopped at the edge of her nipple. Her chest heaved. Each pull of breath crinkled the drying wax. Again, she heard the noise of a candle being replaced in its holder, maybe another being removed. She wished she could see. She wanted to look at the pattern on her body, the glint in her Master’s eye.
“Not just a little turned on, either. I can’t hide it. I think of you and I get this huge, fuck-off erection, which I have to take in hand.”
Felicity imagined him getting hard in a business meeting, surrounded by serious people, his erection hidden by the wood of the boardroom table. Her lips twitched into a smile.
“Oh, that amuses you, does it?” Sir mused.
Felicity couldn’t deny it so stayed quiet. An explosion of wax erupted on her stomach, a long, continuous pouring seared her skin, making her twitch and writhe and shout for relief. He stopped and she dragged in lungfuls of cold, air.
“I asked you a question, Felicity. Answer it!”
“Sorry, Sir. I wasn’t sure you wanted an answer, Sir.” Her words tripped over themselves in a hurry to get out and right the wrong she’d unconsciously committed. “I was a little amused, yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. It’s not really funny, is it?”
“No, it’s not. It’s very serious. I’m an important businessman, a very busy man. I don’t have the time to wank away the delicious thoughts of you, three, four times a day.”
Felicity’s eyes widened behind the mask. He masturbated how many times a day because of her? Her cheeks heated at the thought. He laughed.
“Blushing, Felicity? You’re tied up and at my mercy, and the mention of me thinking about you and touching my dick makes you blush? How sweet.”
She heard the crinkle of the sheet, a dip to the mattress, then she felt the touch of his skin against hers.
His lips brushed hers and she pushed back eagerly as he deepened the kiss, pressing hard down on top of her. All she could feel, all she was aware of was their connection until the knot at the side of her head loosened and he pulled off the blindfold. She squeezed her eyes closed against the intensity of light as her Master moved away from her again.
“I thought you might like to see my artwork,” he casually quipped.
She blinked and squinted to get used to the sunlight once more.
“I think it’s looking quite good. What do you think?”
She arched her neck to gaze along her body. There were drips of red up her stomach, a streak of green zig-zagged round the red spots. Streaks of blue highlighted both her breasts.
“It’s looking good, Sir,” she responded. It did look good—felt good too, dried on her skin.
“I don’t think it’s quite finished yet, though,” Sir pondered.
He held his chin in one hand, assessing her and his handiwork. Her nipples tightened, her stomach rolled and her clit tingled under his gaze.
“I like the minimalist look,” she squeaked. “You can easily over do a piece of artwork, you know.”
As much as the sensation of the drying wax was quite enjoyable, the intense burn of the impact was uncomfortable. Yes, it had led to a burst of endorphins and a pleasant buzz of euphoria, but she really would prefer to get fucked, if she was honest with herself.
Sir laughed and shook his head.
“Oh, Felicity, you have a lot to learn my sweet, sweet sub. You don’t tell me what to do, my love—especially when you forget to call me Sir.”
“Oh, no, Sir, I wasn’t. I mean, I’d never even think to. I was just—”
“Shush,” he whispered. “I’m thinking.”
He trailed his gaze along her body. Her heart thudded so hard she felt the vibrations from her head to her toes. Was she in even more trouble? What was he going to do next?
“More. It simply needs more.” He reached for the cabinet beside him and picked up one of the chunky white candles. He lifted it to an inch from his lips and blew softly. The flame flickered as his lips puckered. She imagined the feel of his breath on her skin as the glow danced and finally went out under the power of his air kiss.
He looked down at her and smiled then tipped the candle over his own upturned arm. He caught a spot above his pulse point, winced, righted the candle and put it back on the cabinet. He picked up the other and repeated the action, blowing out the flame softly and tipping it over his own wrist before picking up the other candle again, holding one in each hand. Once he was prepared, he turned his attention back to her.
“I’ve always been under the impression that more is more.” He held the candles high above her. “Never really been into the minimalist thing. I know, looking around, you might think differently, but I’ve only been here for a few months. I’m yet to really add my stamp to it.”
He tipped one candle casually.
“I need artwork and furniture and knickknacks. Maybe you could come shopping with me sometime, help me pick things out. You have an artistic eye.”
He tipped the candle farther and Felicity watched the stream of wax and tightened her body. It hit her stomach, just beside her belly button, and he swirled the candle round and round. The stream of heat spiraled, the pain escalated and she moaned, then screamed and writhed under it. He stopped.
“Would you like that?”
She stared up at him, blankly, her stomach on fire, the burning slipping down to her pelvis, lodging in a damp mess of desire between her thighs.
“Would you like to come art shopping with me this weekend?” He asked the question so casually, as if they were sharing a meal or a glass of wine together, as if she wasn’t tied down and covered in his tortuous marks of domination.
“Erm, yes, I would. I would, Sir. Thank you.”
“Wonderful.”
He tipped both the candles and the molten streams trickled over each of her thighs. She strained against the cuffs as the lava-like liquid dribbled down, coating the already tender flesh then mixing with her own juices.
“I’ll pick you up about eleven.”
“Okay, Sir.” She panted, then a thought sparked in her brain through the pain. “Which day, Sir? I’m at a car boot sale on Sunday.”
It was a strangely mundane conversation to be having, in stark contrast to the kinky play they were indulging in.
“Saturday. I might come to the car boot on Sunday, though. I do like a good mooch through other people’s unwanted stuff. I love a bargain.”
If he hadn’t have tipped the candles again, she might have laughed at that. She didn’t imagine him to be the kind of man who’d enjoy a car boot. But as it was, the flame licking the agony of the hot wax on her stomach and red, raw thigh took all thought from her mind.
“Now that is looking better.” He grinned and put the candles back down on the side. When Felicity recovered her breath, she observed the white pools solidifying on her thighs and stomach like clouds or spilled milk or, as her mind strayed to darker, more sexual territory, it could be cum—lots of cum from several men.
“What are you thinking, Felicity?”
“What? I mean, pardon, Sir?” she flustered, wanting to hide her face in her hands, but unable to move them.
“You’re blushing again, Felicity, what are you thinking?”
“Oh, God, Sir.” She shook her head and turned her face away from him.
“Look at me and tell me what you’re thinking. It must be something wicked.”
She gulped and slowly turned to face him.
“I saw the wax you’ve just cov
ered me with, Sir, and I was thinking what it looked like. It made me think of ejaculate, Sir, lots of it.”
“Oh, it was wicked.” He grinned. “Wickedly good. I may be able to cover you in a few strands of white cum, but that much would be a stretch. It would need multiple men to cover you in that much cum.”
Her cheeks flared with heat again, but she daren’t pull away from his gaze for fear of reprieve. She felt like she was burning up—almost wished she was—so she wouldn’t be under the intensity of his glare any longer.
“Would you like that, Felicity?”
How could she answer? She really didn’t want to answer, but she had to.
“Yes, Sir.”
He closed his eyes and moaned.
“Fuck, that’s an image.” He licked his lips, shook his head and glanced back to the candles.
“Okay, one more and I think we’ll be finished.”
Felicity pulled in a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of the mash up of fear and curiosity, the image of faceless men standing over her, wanking over her. She couldn’t shift it and when she closed her eyes, it was even more vibrant. She flicked her eyes open again to see Sir dropping a little purple wax on the inside of his left arm. A spot of each color visible there, a sign of his deep care and concern for her welfare.
“Purple is my favorite color, Felicity. Take note.”
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded.
“Good girl.” He sat on the bed beside her, carefully holding the candle upright, trying hard not to spill a drop. “Now brace yourself, love. This is going to test your limits.”
‘Love’ was a new pet name for her. She liked it and it made her feel warm inside, but was he only using it because what was to come would really hurt? That would be bittersweet.
Felicity seized up in fear. What in hell’s name could he be thinking of doing with the candle that would be worse than he’d already done? It was as he tipped it and the first fast drop impacted the edge of her left areola that she realized how it was going to get worse. She bucked and another drop landed on the tip of her puckered nipple.
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