Upon entering His playroom, Master finds me awaiting Him, a hopeful look in my eyes as i gaze at the floor from my kneeling position. On some nights, Master would send me to bed at this point, knowing how much i disliked not serving Him in ALL ways before the evening was finished. He had explained to me that on those nights, He felt it best to remind me that we don't always get what we want. But on this night, something sizzled in the air, something not quite tangible, something that told me bedtime was a long way off. Master approaches me swiftly, and, reaching down, winds my curling tresses around His hand to pull my head up. Looking steadily into my eyes, He begins explaining to me what He has in store for the night's activities, knowing how the anticipation would slowly drive me insane.
"Little one, you will begin by setting out some of O/our favorite playthings. I will tell you which ones to select. When you have finished, and each one is in it's proper place on the table, you will then lay yourself, face down, on the padded bench. Do remember to stretch out each of your limbs, little one, for I do not wish to lift your arms and legs Myself. I shall be most unhappy if that is the case. If I am pleased with your behavior during O/our play time, I will allow you to crawl to Me as I sit in My chair, and perhaps I will tell you how your appreciation is best shown. And, if I am satisfied that you are properly grateful, mayhap I will flog your bottom so that you may revel in it's warmth while you rest on your pallet."
With stars in my eyes, i wait for Him to release His hold on my hair, and then, lowering my face to the cool stones of the floor, i begin backing away on my hands and knees. When i am near to the toy cabinet, i turn and rise, ever so slowly, knowing that Master loves the sight of my clean shaven pussy peeking out from underneath my naked bottom. Pulling the aged cherry wood doors open, i glance inside and thendrop my hands to my sides. "The white vibrator" His voice floats across the room to my ears. i reach inside and grasp the vibrator, with it's labia clips, and take it out to cradle in my hands. Turning slightly, i place a kiss on it's soon-to-be-warm surface and lay it softly on the high butcher's block table. As i face the open doors again, i hear Him once more. "The clover-clamps" An involuntary shudder races thru my body as i reach out and take the clamps in hand. He knows that of all the toys in this cabinet, the clover clamps are the hardest for me to bear. Kissing each one in turn, i lay them side by side on the table top. Turning back, His voice breaks thru my swirling thoughts. "The red candle" Again, my thoughts are frantic, but my body does not betray me as i lift the candle from it's cloth. The red candle has the highest burning point of all of Master's candles, and it's wax has always left marks on my flesh. Pressing my lips to the deceptively cold surface, i lay it too upon the table, taking care that it does not roll off.
Sweeping my eyes over the table top, i ascertain that everything is in it's place. Hearing no more commands from Master, i turn and close the cabinet doors before dropping once again to the floor. Crawling purposefully but slowly, i make my way to the far side of the table and stop before the padded bench. Master had this bench made specifically to His slave's proportions, so that when i lay on it, as i do now, every part of me is cradled in some fashion. Reveling in the familiar feel of the leather covered padding, i nearly forget to stretch out my limbs. There are D-rings sunk into the stone floor at just the right spots for my wrist and ankle cuffs to be anchored. My arms and legs extend as Master rises from His chair and crosses the room. He stops at my shoulder, bending down to whisper in my ear..."very good, little one" and swiftly attaches my cuffs to the rings. Breathing deeply, i smile as the scent of well used leather fills my nostrils. i want to tell Him that i am grateful for His praise, but to speak now would mean certain disaster. Master has made it clear that once his slave is locked in place, her ability to speak has vanished.
Knowing that it is impossible, i still strain to hear which of the items Master has chosen from the table. It is a fruitless effort, but one i enjoy, nonetheless. Making sure that all of my body is as relaxed as possible (Master has warned me that He does not care for a tensed up slave,) i gently pull at the rings anchoring my hands. There is nothing quite like the feeling of utter vulnerability that comes with being unable to move an inch, and it fills me with a heated passion. Already, i can feel the bench beneath me becoming wet with my juices, and i hope Master can smell them, for i know that it is an aphrodisiac to Him.
Just as the last muscle in my body has released all tension, the sound of a match being struck carries loudly to my ears. Before i can complete my next thought, a single, desperately hot drop of wax hits my flesh, just above my left shoulder blade. my breath leaves me unexpectedly, leaving me slightly lightheaded, but i do not flinch. The next drop comes, at my right shoulder, and on it's heels, the third, at my nape. Other than a slight flexing of my index finger, there is no indication of the immense sensation that has set my body aflame. A few seconds pass, and then an onslaught of melted wax covers my back, leaving me no time to catch my breath. When my body begins to threaten to stiffen, i force my way back into control of it and keep my limbs languid, just as Master commands. my eyes begin to water of their own accord, but no sound escapes my lips. By now, the multitude of drops must be well connected, and i hear Master's breath as He extinguishes the candle's flame.
Taking that opportunity to breath deeply, i try to focus on what this part of O/our session has brought me. Pushing thru the surface feelings of pain, i work towards the deeper levels. Once i am there, i quickly find what i am searching for.....this has brought me balance. i am now in balance once more, and am refreshed for Him, ready to do His will. Smiling into the leather, i try to convey this to Him without making a sound, without moving a muscle. His hand caresses my bottom briefly, and i hear Him say, " I know, my lovely one, I know." His fingertips dance up my back, to the nape of my neck, and play in the tendrils laying there. As He slides His fingers just under the wax, i find i have no trouble staying relaxed. This is Master, and i am His, and His will be done. Slowly, making sure that His slave feels every last inch, He pulls the now hardened wax sheet from my skin. In any other instance, such treatment would have me howling in pain, but not now. Each new tingle of pain only serves to heighten my awareness, and to heighten my passion for Him.