He led me downstairs to the dungeon, his hand wrapped tightly in my hair. He was smiling, always a dangerous sign.
Why that makes my pussy leak, i will never know.
There in the center of the room, gleaming in the dim light, was a table. The legs thick and sturdy, but the top, covered with what looked like metal.
“I got this from Pamela.” I nod. “She thought I’d love this table.” Pam was a real estate broker, and a fellow kinkster, one He’d played with at some of our group parties.
“She was selling a house that used to be a veterinarian’ s office. The top is heavy-duty aluminum. It’s going to be fucking cold on your tits. The table is sturdy, slut, very, very sturdy. ”
I swallow hard, not even imagining what he is fantasizing about. My tits will indeed freeze on that cold metal. It’s not like the dungeon is heated to begin with. He likes it cold. And somehow i never notice it once he gets going.
He pushes me down across the short end of the rectangular surface. Fuck! My nipples harden instantly, and i shiver. He laughs.
“Told you. ” He pulls me up, rubs his hot hand over my tit. “Mmmm, nice and chilly, slut.” He pulls on my nipple, none to gently on my poor frozen nubb.
“Owwwww” i moan out, as he decides to move me to the long end of the table…by my nipple.
He fiddles with my position for a few minutes. I’m face down, arms over my head. My hair has flopped over my face but i don’t dare try to move it. Besides, he likes surprising me.
I hear a rip. What the fuck?
“Curl your fingers over the edge of the table like you’re holding on for dear life, slut. Because believe me, you will be.”
Mindfuck or his Master plan? I wonder. I feel something cool cross over my hand. Another rip, and something over in the other direction. One more rip, and it must be fucking duct tape he’s now applying over my wrist. He does the same with my other hand. I look through tendrils of hair, and see two big “X” s across the back of each hand, and the last piece of tape securing my wrists. No fucking way out.
My teeth are chattering a bit,although the table has warmed under my tits and belly. I can’t hear him but i sense him behind me. I feel something hot dripping…OW FUCK! i yell.
He’s dripping candle wax across my asscheeks.
“Just warming that ass up,” he says with that diabolical laugh of his. “Just trying to help.”
Help. Yeah. As fucking if.
Still the burning heat and the tightening of my flesh as the wax slides and hardens is an instant turn on. I feel moisture on my inner thigh. I shake my head even as i yelp as the next stream of wax hits tender flesh. I’m such a slut.
He pushes his groin into my ass. He’s absorbing the warmth of my ass, the wax. He groans at the sensation, and his hands glide up my sides, slipping under me to find and torment my nipples. They are so cold, so hard, so yearning for this torture. I’m pushing back into him, needing him to fuck me, my tits throbbing in rhythm to my hot-waxed cheeks, as he humps at my ass.
He pushes off me.
“Okay, enough of that,” he says in that matter of fact voice. His cock is half hard, i felt its thickness stirring against me through the waxy build up on my butt.
Only half hard.
Why do i know he’s really, really going to enjoy taking that wax off to get access to my holes?
“Clean up” he chants, “Clean up, every Dom, everywhere, Clean up Clean up, time to see what’s under there…”
And he laughs. Even as he brings down the first slash of the crop.