Wax Job
_______________
She'd been getting tied up for several days, and thoroughly enjoying every
offbeat second of John's playfully outrageous approach to the game.
"I don't care what you do to me," she'd decided, after several phone calls
to a trusted friend convinced her she could trust him. "I know it may sound
foolish, considering my lack of experience, but I want to dive right into the
deep end of the pool. It's what I want."
"Do you always get what you want?"
"Usually."
A sly grin accompanied John's low-toned, out-loud thought. "So do I."
He'd asked, not a few times one afternoon, if she'd care to take a ride in
the country for some outdoor fun. She jumped at the chance.
"To do what?"
"What we both want."
That Night
Samantha was spread-eagled naked, severely gagged and blindfolded, on her
back, on an old mattress, in the hayloft of an abandoned barn. The rope tension
was extreme, and again tightened after John fucked her and waited 20 minutes or
so to let her body reach the limits of its own, personally physical extremities.
While his bondage playmate waited, she could hear her binder setting up some
gear 'round about her.
When the blindfold was removed, a framework, hanging just a few inches above
Samantha's body, occupied her undivided attention. It was shaped exactly as she
was, in an 'X,' with extensions over her breasts and lower torso. Votive candles
were mounted on the custom made accessory. She watched as John lit all 50 of
them with his cigar lighter.
"They're the cheap, fast-burning kind, which means the wax will not
completely burn, but start to overflow about 15 minutes after I light them. The
frame is made of metal, with inch-long holes every three-quarters of an inch,
and U-shaped, to make sure none of the wax escapes, except though the holes."
His now, very agitated damsel, looked up at the ceiling to find there wasn't
any over the hayloft spot John had chosen for the evening's fun. The jagged,
charred hole in the roof looked like lightning might have made it.
The night air was still. Samantha curled her toes and made two fists as the
consequences of what was about to happen unfolded."Muhuhuh?"
As John smeared Icy-Hot ointment all over his damsel's nipples, breasts and
pussy, he said, "I'll see you in the morning." The blindfold was then replaced.
"The candles will burn for a good hour or so." He then set a timer wired to a
gizmo between her legs and shoved the large, cock-shaped, Icy-Hot glazed dildo
they were connected to into his damsel's crevice. Duct tape made sure it would
stay there.
"Later?" said John as he lit a cigar and ascended the loft ladder. "And I
wouldn't struggle too hard if I were you. If you do, the wrist ropes will
tighten and cut off your circulation."
"Muhuh? MUH? MMMUHUHUHUH!!!!"
"Wouldn't want to be able to escape, now, would you?"
There were only to turns of rope on Samantha's wrists, slip-knotted in place
to make sure things could only get tighter if she chose to give freedom a
concerted effort.
The dildo was a bit bigger than Sam was accustomed to, and, because of the
extent to which the spread-eagle had been secured, and the slippery ointment
glaze on the cock-shaped toy, there was little she could to promote any
friction. A sobering realization suddenly gave Samantha reason to think. If John
was serious about not coming back till morning, there was a good chance a candle
could ignite a fire if its lit wick fell thru one of the holes when it reached
the end of its wax.
'Oh-my-God.' A jolt of fear raced thru her body, electrifying Samantha in a
way she had never been electrified before. 'Oh...my...God.'
She heard the sound of John's car engine starting. He purposely gunned it,
burning rubber as he drove off at top speed, creating a screeching punctuation
mark, of sorts, to the frantically racing semi-conclusions chain reacting within
Samantha's power's of deduction, and pussy. 'He can't be serious.'
But John was, very serious, and intent on giving Samantha an experience she
had yet to add to the history of her bondage adventures with him, or anyone else
for that matter.
'Damn-these-ropes-are-tight.'
The Icy-Hot had gone on smoothly cool and soothing, and taken up most of her
attention during John's departure. As it did its thing, changing ever so slowly
to the heated effect it was designed to achieve, she struggled furiously to
escape, something she had not done yet within her current context, but had
looked forward to when the time was right.
It didn't take long to learn that, as usual, John's lines were inescapably
secure. She kept struggling anyway, mindful of what was to come, and grateful
that she was in the hands of a man who obviously knew what he was doing.
"I love this. I abso-FUCKing-lutely LOVE this.'
In the minutes that followed, however, flashbacks of what he'd done and said
to her since they met did much to undermine Samantha's confidence, giving her
reason to believe there might be something more sinister going on than met the
eye.
'Clarissa did say he could be a bit unruly at times...perhaps even
sadistic.'
17 Minutes Of Icy-Hot Later
The first bead of molten wax splashed on the second toe of Sam's right foot.
"Muhuh."
The next struck her left nipple. 'Oh-my.' She writhed deliciously in her
predicament, and decided that, since there was nothing she could do to stop what
was about to happen, she would completely abandon herself to the moment. The
dance had begun, but alone, a factor she'd yet to enjoy, or hate, since meeting
the man of her dreams. 'I had to open my big, fat mouth and tell him I wanted to
try flying solo.'
The wax was impacting at a rate of 10-beads-per-second now, rapidly
increasing their frequency with every deep breath Samantha took. She had never
felt anything like it before, and wondered if it was hot enough to leave burn
marks.
She tried to twist her wax-covered arms, legs and torso, to see if she could
avoid the inevitable, and thought, 'Oh-shit,' when she couldn't.
The brightness of the loft increased in concert with the unbelievably
arousing sensations building between her legs and on her hardened and fully
erected nipples, which were now dripping with molten-to-soft wax. No matter what
she did, Samantha could not escape the dripping paraffin as it splattered all
over her wildly gyrating body.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm."
Timelessness
Dozens of drips per second were splashing down on her now. The tape that had
been used to keep the vibrator/dildo from slipping out had been strategically
applied so as to keep every naked square inch of her shaved pussy vulnerable to
waxy buildup.
'I love how he sweats the details,' admired Samantha just before a spasm, of
the uncommon kind, snuck up on her crevice in such a way as to suggest it was
there to stay for a while. 'What the...'
So began the first bondage multiple of her 29-year-old life.
"Muhuhuhu. MMUHMMUHM. MMMMAUAUAUAUMMMMM!!!!"
Samantha loved not having anything to say about when and how orgasms would
overtake her. Moreover, she loved not caring how much danger or disregard for
her opinion and discomfort were involved. She screamed uncontrollably with the
erotic commentary her convulsing eruptions inspired, thinking as she did, 'The
best...THE BEST!...THE...'
"Muhuh!..MMUHUHUHUH!...MMUHUH..."
Suddenly, Samantha could not utter a sound. The multiple was taking her
breath away. She bit down hard on the too-big ball gag, suspended in a moment so
blessed with awe and incredulity it made her forget where she was, what day it
was, what lifetime.
The wax drips' frequency peaked. The corner of the loft glowed with a
transfixing aura only the human eye could fully appreciate. Every muscle in
Samantha's body relented, sending what she thought was the last of her physical
energy racing to the unprecedented implosion going on between her legs. Minutes
passed, lost in the sheer pleasure of what she'd longed so to feel, never
imagining it could be anything like it was, or had thus far been.
...Something tiny and wet splashed on her high forehead, then on her right
cheek. She could also feel drops of water striking the fabric of her blindfold.
At first she thought it was wax, but quickly realized...
'Rain?'
The cloud trickle continued to add its negligible, spoiling influence to the
candlepower, and an extra, unexpected wrinkle to the overall effect of the fix.
'What...' (Gasp.) 'Next..?'
Samantha's question was immediately answered when the timing device
connected to the vibrator/dildo turned it on. At first, on its lowest setting,
but as the minutes passed, its humming insistence grew louder and stronger,
forcing the spasms to continue, without letup.
'GEEZE!!!'
The multiple simply would not quit, nor would its intensity diminish. If
anything, it seemed to be getting more insistent as it further invaded and
purposefully included its surrounding physiology, like a shock wave from a
tactical nuclear detonation.
'I don't believe this.'
The sporadically light rain wasn't heavy enough to put out the candles, but
did much to add to the overall effect. A curious mingling of odors highlighted
Samantha's sensual involvement as well. The smell of the barn, the ointment, the
rainy air, her own sweat and perfume, not to mention the several different
scents John selected when buying the candles, all made the undreamed-of event
radiate with uncommon, sensual resplendence.
It took 4 minutes for the vibrator to reach its top speed. The rain stopped.
A breeze wafted into the loft, cooling the moisture on Samantha's skin, almost
as if it had been sent to refresh her for what was to come.
So it went, for what seemed like only a few minutes, but was actually more
like 45. The spasms grew longer and more powerful as Samantha thought back on
some of the things John had said to her.
"Clarissa and I go way back. I was the one who broke her bondage cherry. She
tells me you have a taste for danger. How much danger would you like to taste?"
She slowly perceived that the candles were reaching the end of their wicks.
The dread of what might happen next was quashed somewhat by how wet the rain had
made everything. Regardless, the danger was still very real to Sam. What she
didn't know was that each candlewick stood on a tiny, metal pedestal, which John
had wisely Crazy Glued to the framework, making it impossible for any of the
wicks to fall through its 87 holes.
However, when the flames did reach their pedestals, the surrounding wax that
remained on the frame, refueling the situation in another, unexpected way, then
fed them. The molten drops were bigger now, as chunks of wax that had been
building up between wicks also got small enough to fall through the elongated
holes with them, bombing Samantha's skin with a new wave of unexpected splashes
that extended the impact zone up to a maximum of 4-inches all around. The
framework itself was now also very hot, ensuring that almost all the hot wax
would eventually slip through its holes.
An emotionally riveting moment interrupted Samantha's peripheral awareness
for a second or so when she realized both hands were falling asleep.
'Wow. Another first. Wow.'
But the exponentially elongated spasms just kept on cumming.
And John thought, just before adding his ejaculation to the erotic tension
of the moment, while looking down at Samantha through the hole in the roof,
'Better send Clarissa a dozen roses.'
John Roper
