
She can hardly breathe.
With the flutter of nerves
And excitement
She is blind to all but her own thoughts.
The room is silent
But for the scratching sound of the match
Her senses are heightened
Sight and movement taken
The rich smell of leather permeates the air
She feels the comforting weight
Around her neck
Around her wrists and ankles
She knows what is to come
Yet not when.
He is a quiet presence
Watching her
Waiting for the right moment
Pleased with the sight of her
Cuffed and roped
Here for his pleasure
And hers
The first drops hit her bare skin
The burning pain
Melding into an ache
She feels down into her core
Drop after drop falls
Without end
The wax drips down her breasts
Beading upon her nipples
Dripping further upon her belly
Upon her thighs
Upon her sex
She is twisting her body to evade the wax
But without sight
Without the ability to move fully
She is powerless
The pain makes her whimper, despite herself
Tears well in her eyes
Pain and pleasure
Creating an unfamiliar feeling within her.
Knowing it arouses him
This suffering she endures
Knowing she’s pleased him
This excites her
Makes her hungry for him.
The drops continue to fall
Faster now
Each drop hotter
More painful than the last
She lets go
Stops thinking
As she falls into the pain
As drop after drop falls
All she can think of is him.
Silence
The wax no longer drips
Her pain starts to recede
The blindfold is removed
She feels the ghost of his touch
Lightly over the wax
Thumbing the encased nipple
And further down to spread her thighs
She watches as he looks at his handiwork
The wax itself is like a work of art
He kneels between her thighs
His fingers
His tongue
Dancing upon fevered flesh
Soothing and stimulating
And just as she slips over the edge
Into the abyss
He thrusts into her
Their pleasure delicious
The moment transcendent
:
*This is not a new post. Blogged first two years ago and again last year it is one of my favourites so I beg your indulgence once again.
©SirenSong1208
Photograph taken from Pinterest
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