Wax

She walked into the room dressed in silk, smelling of flowers, totally vulnerable to his violent exploration. The room was dark but lit with dozens of candles burning everywhere. Small candles flooded the room with light, and towering above them all was one long tapered candle lit by the bed. She saw her reflection in the candle light through the mirror paralleled to the door. She jumped as his hands grabbed her arms, his face above her looking at her with a dangerous glare in his eyes.

Her body tensed up all over, and she gasped in surprise. He gripped her tighter and pressed himself hard up against her. He reached down and bit her neck hard. She let out a small yelp. He sank his teeth into her harder, and her knees buckled under the pain, trying to bend low enough to make him let go.

He let go of her and pushed her down onto the bed. She scrambled up toward the headboard. He climbed on top of her, grabbed the back of her head and kissed her fiercely. Her body relaxed as she moaned a little into his mouth. His kisses were always so intense, so passionate. She reached her hand up to run her fingers through his hair when she felt cold metal lock tightly around her wrist.

She tried to pull away from his kiss, but he pushed her back into him. She felt her arm being pulled above her and soon her other arm was grabbed, thrown above her head and locked into his cold metal handcuffs. She pulled with her wrists, realizing he had her trapped and defenseless to whatever inflictions he had for her.

He looked down at her, sprawled out on the bed before him. This silk thing she adorned was simply unacceptable. He grabbed the neck with his hands and ripped it straight down the front and tossed it aside, landing on some of the candles making the glow in the room dimmer.

He started to kiss her juicy flesh, slightly moistened from the water of the shower. She smelled so clean. It reminded him of innocence. He laughed at thought of his woman being anything close to innocent. She was his kinky, little nymph.

She began to moan in pleasure as his kisses fell lower on her body. She spread her legs wide for him expecting his lips, his tongue to grace her with their talent. Little slut. She screamed and she felt him thrust himself dry into her. But a couple of thrust and they were both beginning to drown in her juices.

He reached over to the bedside table, and pulled the long candle out of its holder. He looked at her face: eyes wide and full of terror in anticipation of the pain he was about to inflict upon her. His sweet, little slut. She watched, trembling, as he held the candle above her stomach and slowly began to tip it. A drop of wax hit her stomach and she jumped in pain causing his body to tilt and another drop to follow.

Her breath was tattered and heavy as he began to drip wax onto her abs, her neck, her face, her chest. By the time the wax had reached her neck tears had began to stream down her face and she bit her trembling lip trying to keep from letting out any whimpers of pain. She suffered beautifully. But by the time the drips had begun to make their scattered patterns on her chest he could hear her start to moan. These moans however were not in pain, but in pleasure. Kinky, masochistic, little slut.

He threw the candle on the floor and grabbed one of the tea lights which had at this point melted all of its wax, and threw it across her body. She screamed and tensed in pain. The handcuffs clanked against the headboard as her whole body jumped. She began to cry heavily through her screams of pain. He began to thrust inside of her again. He pounded that tight cunt of hers over and over.

The pain of the burning wax and the pleasure of his big, hard dick thrusting away inside of her sent her mind into a blur. Pain was pleasure and pleasure was pain. She couldn't tell which sensation was coming from where, or which felt better. He looked at her face. Tears streamed down her face and her mouth was partly open breathing and moaning in pleasure. Her big, pleading eyes begged him to stop the pain and not stop fucking her.

She felt so trapped, so used. Her mind was racing with thoughts of pleasure and thoughts of pain. The metal of the handcuffs were cutting into her wrists as she kept lunging her arms forward in pain. And then she noticed that one of the cuffs was a little loose. He kept thrusting into her body moving her back and forth on the bed as she tried to wriggle her hand free.

His thrusts suddenly become harder, more determined. She could hear him start to breath harder, rougher. Finally she managed to slip her hand out of the cuff. She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed another of the tea lights and flung the wax at his chest just as he began to cum.

Intense, carnal pleasure had consumed him first as he started to come. Then a shock of pain ripped through his body as he could feel his entire chest covered in searing, burning wax. The pain was almost too much to bear. Convulsions of ecstasy shot through him as the pain began to consume his body. He kept on coming as he screamed that loud, low, guttural scream of immense pain. There's nothing like the pain of a man to equal that which he inflicted on his woman.