Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She would go through Sabrina’s fantasy, even without a safe word, trusting that her new master wouldn’t take things farther than she could bear. And after it was over, she was going to try to get to know him, even if it took all night.
Jillian’s mind was made up and even the reappearance of her master holding a tray of lit candles couldn’t deter her. Well, not much.
He must have seen the fear in her eyes because he put the tray down on the bedside table and sat beside her. Stroking her face, he captured her gaze with his own before he began to speak.
“These are specially made for bondage and domination play,” he said, nodding at the three white pillar candles, each about as thick as her wrist. “The wax is soft and melts at a lower temperature so while the heat can be a little uncomfortable and hard to bear, it won’t actually burn you or leave a permanent mark. See?” He picked up one of the candles and tilted it so that the flame burned sideways and several drops of wax landed on his muscular forearm. It didn’t appear to hurt him any but then, Jillian was betting that the areas of her body he was intending to douse in hot wax were a lot more sensitive than his arm.
She licked her lips nervously. “They…they actually make these things especially for this?” It was hard to believe that somewhere there was a candle-making plant that manufactured candles especially for kinky sex, but apparently it was true.
Her master smiled at her. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t believe the things they make. There are an awful lot of people out there who can only get to pleasure by going through pain. Are you one of them?”
“I-I don’t know.” Jillian’s mouth was so dry she could barely answer. “I didn’t think so but…but I guess we’re going to find out.”
He stroked her cheek again. “Remember, say the safe word and I’ll stop.”
She nodded. “I remember.” Now if only I knew what the damn thing was! But it was too late for worries or regrets. He was ready to start.
“Before we begin, you’re going to be wearing this.” He had put down the candle and was holding a black satin sleeping mask in his large, capable hands. Jillian felt her stomach knot.
“What? Why?” she asked before she could stop herself. “I mean, I know it’s in my fantasy and all,” she continued hurriedly, “But maybe…couldn’t we just change it a little bit?” The thought of lying there tied to the bed and blindfolded, having no idea where the next dribble of hot wax was going to land on her naked body brought her closer to panic than anything else she had gone through so far.
He frowned. “Sorry, sweetheart, but this is the way it has to be. If I started modifying your fantasy, letting you back out of things you really wanted to experience, I wouldn’t be a very good Dom. This is all about finding your boundaries and pushing them to the limit. If you don’t want the blindfold, say your safe word. But that means the fantasy stops here.”
He paused, obviously waiting for her to say the magic word but Jillian only shook her head. By now she knew that even if she’d known the damn word, she wouldn’t have said it. If saying it meant that her time with him ended then she didn’t want to have anything to do with it. As frightened as she was, she was more intrigued about the man she thought of as Master.
“Go ahead, put it on me,” she said at last when it became clear he was waiting for verbal confirmation of her willingness to continue. “I mean, please, Master, put the mask on me,” she added, trying to be sure she got the wording right.
“All right.” He leaned over her, filling her senses with that warm aroma of fresh woodchips and musk again. God, where did he get his cologne? Or was that just him? she wondered again. Either way it was mouthwatering. She felt herself tremble as he slipped the elastic bands of the black satin sleeping mask over her eyes, shutting out the dim overhead lights and the bright flames of the three candles. Was she crazy, letting a complete stranger tie her up and torture her sexually? Wasn’t this exactly the extreme kind of behavior she had condemned in her sister? But Jillian didn’t have time to worry about her decision for long because that was when the first drop of wax fell.
She felt it in the valley between her breasts, just this side of too hot to be comfortable but not so scorching as to be unbearable. There was a minimal amount of pain but to her surprise it was completely eclipsed by the ever-present worry as to where the next drop would fall. Her eyes were open wide behind the blindfold and she felt like every nerve was on end, all her other senses straining to make up for the lack of sight. She was waiting for the next drop of hot wax…but it didn’t come. Not yet.
“You need to relax.” His deep voice sounded almost tangible now that she couldn’t see him. “I just gave you one drop to let you know how it feels, that it isn’t going to burn you,” he continued. A warm hand stroked the side of her neck and traveled down her body in a long, slow caress. “I’m going to drip the wax wherever I want to, baby,” he murmured in that deep, soft voice. “Wherever I want to make your pretty pale skin all pink and hot and sensitive. I might do it here…” He cupped one of her breasts, making Jillian gasp. “Or here.” His hand slid down to the rounded cup of her navel and he traced a slow circle around her bellybutton with one finger. “Or even here.” He let his hand trail lower and cupped the mound of her pussy. “But wherever I let it fall, I expect you to hold still and open yourself to me. Open yourself to the heat of the wax, to that little bite of pain you feel when it touches your skin. Submit to me and trust me. Because I won’t hurt you—not really. I’m just going to help your find your limits and push them. All right?”
Jillian nodded, mesmerized by his voice. “Yes, Master,” she whispered. She could feel her body relaxing, opening to him as he demanded. It seemed strange that she could actually enjoy something like this but she didn’t feel the fear anymore—only the trust he had asked her for and a growing anticipation. The question of where the wax would fall next had been replaced by the question of if she could obey him as he demanded, if she could open herself to him the way he wanted her to. Jillian thought that she could. But more importantly, she knew that she wanted to.
He kept her in suspense for a while, letting single droplets of wax fall on her bare shoulder…the inner part of her ankle…the sensitive bend of her elbow…the hollow of her throat. Then she felt the heated kiss of the wax against her right nipple.
Jillian bit back a moan as the sticky substance coated her sensitive nub. It hurt all right, but to her surprise it felt good at the same time. The feeling was akin to the pain she had felt when he pinched and twisted her nipples in the tub. It was a hot flame at the tip of her breast, shooting pleasurable lighting all the way down to the cleft between her legs.
Obviously her master knew what she was feeling. “Like that, baby?” he rumbled softly, letting another drip of hot wax fall on the other nipple. “How does it feel?”
“It…it’s hot. And…tingly,” Jillian admitted in a low gasp. “It…it hurts but it feels good. I don’t understand that.”
“It feels good to submit,” he told her, letting another drop of wax fall on the side of her trembling breast. “Feels good to open yourself to me and trust me to hurt you, but not too much.”
“Yes.” Jillian nodded her head. “That’s right—that’s it exactly.”
“So, sweetheart…” He dripped more wax on her abdomen, leading down to her belly. “Exactly how much do you trust me?”
“How-how much do you want me to trust you?” Jillian’s voice sounded high and uncertain in her own ears. Dear God, was he really going to ask her to do what she was afraid he was going to ask her to do?
“I want you to trust me enough to spread your legs.” The deep voice was commanding and coaxing at the same time. She had a thought that she would probably follow that voice over the edge of a cliff if he asked her to—it was that compelling. But still, the idea of actually spreading her legs and letting him drip hot candle wax onto the most sensitive part of her body, well, it was frightening. Frightening but
exciting too, she admitted to herself.
“I-I’ll try,” she whispered, uncertain if she could do it or not. “I-I think I want to but it’s so hard. Can’t…couldn’t you just hold me down and do it?” He was certainly strong enough to and tied to the bed she was completely helpless. It just seemed like it would be so much easier to let him force her than to force herself to do this—to submit this far. “Please?” she pleaded, wishing she could see his face.
“I’m afraid not, baby.” He stroked her cheek gently and she realized that a few stray tears had slipped from the corners of her eyes. Was she crying because she wanted to stop? Or because she wanted to go on and was having a hard time making herself? Jillian wasn’t sure. “I don’t work that way,” her master told her, wiping her other cheek as well with warm fingers. “You have to want to give in to me for me to do this. But I promise it won’t hurt much more than it did with your nipples. And if you’re good…I’ll give you a reward afterward. All right?”
“All right,” Jillian managed to choke out. Unconsciously she had closed her thighs tightly when he began to drip the wax, now she had to fight to make herself loosen up and spread them. Finally, after several moments of mental concentration, she was able to open them a few inches.
“More. I need you spread wide so I can get the wax where I want it.” His deep voice brooked no arguments.
Jillian bit her lower lip until she was sure she could taste blood. What was he trying to do—drive her crazy? And yet, he had told her he was going to push her limits, she remembered. Maybe this was part of that.
“I-I’m not sure I can,” she whispered, her chest tight with anxiety.
“Yes, you can, baby.” His deep voice was surprisingly gentle. Jillian could feel him leaning over her, the heat from his big body like a line of fire along her naked abdomen and breasts. “You can do it,” he murmured in her ear. “You can open yourself up, spread your legs wide so your pussy opens up for me. Because you want to do this, sweetheart. You just have to believe that you want it. All right?”
“Yes,” Jillian breathed. His words seemed to give her courage somehow. Or maybe it was the proximity of that hard, muscular body hovering over hers. He had spoken of giving her a reward. She wondered if that reward might be the hard cock she’d felt beneath his tight leather pants earlier. She could imagine it inside her, thrusting hard and deep, taking her while she lay bound and helpless, unable to stop him, unable to do anything but submit and wind her legs around his trim, muscular waist to draw him in deeper…
Before she knew it, she had done what she’d believed was impossible only moments before. Her legs were spread wide, so wide that, as he had said, her pussy lips opened too, spreading like the petals of some exotic flower, waiting for whatever he wanted to do to her.
“That’s good, sweetheart. Such a good girl to open yourself for me.” Her master’s voice held the approval she craved and Jillian found herself eager to please him, eager to offer him anything he wanted as long as she could hear that warm note in his voice that said he was pleased with her. Was this part of submission? she wondered. The desire for his approval? The need to know she had done her best to make him happy? She didn’t know and didn’t care because at that moment, she felt the first drop of hot wax in the sensitive folds of her inner pussy.
“Ah!” Jillian’s back arched involuntarily as the heated liquid coated her naked clit. Pain zinged through her, sharp and bright like a needle of fire but the pleasure followed, so quickly she wasn’t sure which was which. Incredibly, she felt right on the edge of orgasm. How could something that caused her so much discomfort both physically and emotionally make her almost come? Maybe it isn’t the wax, she thought, fighting to keep her legs open for the next hot dribble of liquid fire on her tender cunt. Maybe it’s the act of opening myself to him, of letting him do this to me even though it hurts—especially because it hurts. But, oh God, it felt good too!
He let another drop fall and she could almost feel those dark brown eyes on her, watching as she writhed in pain and pleasure. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured as he let a third drop of hot wax coat the inside of her pussy.
“How…how can you tell?” Jillian panted, trying to control herself.
“This…” She felt his hand against her inner thighs and realized they were slick with her moisture. “Your pussy is so wet right now, sweetheart,” he told her, collecting more of her moisture on his fingertips. Jillian wondered if he was licking his fingers, tasting her again as he had earlier. Somehow the thought was unbearable erotic. “So close,” he murmured and then she felt his hand again, this time at her open cunt.
“Master!” she whispered breathlessly. “Master, please, I…”
“Come for me.” He brushed the wax away and pressed the pad of his thumb hard against her sensitive clit, making the burning ache that was growing inside her a tidal wave of pleasure.
“Oh God!” Jillian arched her back, her hands fisting as she came, giving in to the pain and desire of having him touch her, having him take her. The orgasm was short and sharp and incredibly intense. For a moment she actually saw stars behind her eyelids as it arced through her like a bolt of lightning. When it was over she collapsed, panting, trying to catch her breath.
“Beautiful,” he murmured and she could almost see the smile on his face despite the mask that still covered her eyes. “That was intense, wasn’t it? You really felt it.”
“I-I don’t know why,” she confessed when she could breathe again. “What you were doing with the wax, it hurt, just like I was afraid it would. But…but somehow…”
“Somehow letting me do it to you made it feel better than just about anything else, right?” His deep voice was knowledgeable. Once again Jillian was struck with the thought that he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Yes, that’s it,” she admitted. “But please…are you going to fuck me now? You said…said that I would get a reward. Is that it?”
“You really didn’t read the contract before you signed it, did you?” He sounded displeased now which made Jillian cringe inside. What had she said wrong?
“I-I read the brochure cover to cover,” she said, truthfully enough. Had it only been that morning she was studying the shiny black and red cardstock and shuddering to think of actually going through something like what Sabrina had ordered voluntarily? And now, here she was, tied naked to a bed, spread-eagle, with candle wax coating the most sensitive and private parts of her body and she was worried she had displeased her master.
“The brochure doesn’t state what can and can’t happen to you, sweetheart.” He still sounded unhappy. “You need to know what you’re getting yourself into when you order a scene like this.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Jillian’s voice was small. “I guess…you don’t want to…to do that to me then and the contract says you don’t have to?”
“Don’t want to?” She felt him lean forward and suddenly the sleeping mask was pulled off her face. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he demanded, bending down so that they were eye to eye. Jillian did. His stern features were set into an expression that was both longing and angry. “I have never in my life wanted to do anything as much as I want to fuck you right now,” he said, speaking each word clearly and distinctly, his deep voice a low rumble of lust. “But I can’t. Not without violating the contract you signed. Whether you read it or not, it’s still legally binding. Okay?”
“All right,” Jillian whispered. Then she lifted her chin defiantly. “So then, what’s my reward?” She shouldn’t have to feel bad about not reading the stupid contract, damn it. This whole thing was Sabrina’s deal. Her fantasy, not Jillian’s. Although she would have been willing to bet money that Sabrina hadn’t read the contract either. In fact, it was amazing that she’d even gotten through the article in Rolling Stone that gave her the idea to get herself kidnapped in the first place.
“I ought to give you a punishment instead of a reward,” he growled, his dark eyebrows curving down o
ver his eyes. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t lie to you on purpose,” Jillian protested, well aware that she was currently lying about something much more important than reading the contract. She had the urge to give herself up, to tell him the complete and total truth. After all, she could afford to pay for her own kidnapping—she didn’t really need to pretend to be her sister. Except that she had the feeling if she did that now, her master might never forgive her. No, better to see this scene, as he called it, to the end and then try to get to know him. After she got a better feel for him she could confess. But right now she was afraid he would stop and take her straight home if she told the truth and she couldn’t bear that. She was in too deep to back out. In too deep to do anything but keep going deeper.
“Still,” he rumbled, “you’ve been naughty. I think that calls for some form of punishment. You need to learn that your actions have repercussions when you’re with me.”
“Are you going to spank me again?” She felt a surprising tingle of pleasure at the thought of being bent helpless over his knee again.
He looked at her appraisingly and then shook his head. “No, I think you’d enjoy it too much. I think what I’m going to do is cool you down a little.”
“Cool me down?” Jillian asked, but he was already removing the dried wax from her body with a cool, damp washcloth he must have had beside the bed. She moaned and stiffened slightly when he brushed the cloth gently over the sensitive peaks of her nipples and the tight bud of her clit, but it didn’t seem to be much of a punishment to her.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, smiling at her when he had finished. There were still light pink marks on her pale skin where the hot wax had fallen but not a single bit of it remained on her body.