Enlightenment

Auot 1, 1788      
     
Cher D.      
     
     
The four-post bed was soft and spacious made of dark Mahogony with fitted sheets. It was heavenly. I reveled in the white silk as I moved around, what little that I could. For the leather tethers tied to my wrists and ankles stretched me wide. A shiny red ball gag fit snuggly in my mouth. Making sure I kept all of my thoughts to myself.      
     
Illuminated by a single red taper, the chamber walls danced with the flicker flames. Out of the corner of my eye I watched you finish your preparations… for what you will teach me. But to my surprise you lifted the candle and brought it over to the bed. I watched your eyes as you scanned my taut, naked body, planning your conquest.      
     
Then you positioned molten wax over me. Directly over the center of my rising and falling chest. There you waited as the crimson wax pooled. I held my breath.      
     
“I have always relished candle play,” you calmly said. The first drop fell without a sound. It made its splash just below my collar bone. I hissed from my gagged mouth. Pressed my body back against the bed. My eyes widened with fear.      
     
The burning was pinpoint, my wince automatic, my helplessness complete. I flailed my arms and legs, tried to break my bonds. In a moment the scalding wax cooled into a waxy dot.      
     
“Breathe in slow and deep,” you instructed. My beloved teacher.     
     
Repositioning your hand further down my body, you prepared to resume. Again waiting for the wax to melt and pool.      
     
For me time had ceased. There was no past, no future. Only the painful now. Regrets of yesterday, fears for tomorrow were gone. There was only you, me… and the glowing candle. With a marksman’s skill you hit my nipple. My scream was lost in the muffle of the gag, the whistling of my exhale, the shudder of the bed. After a brief pause, you continued your relentless path down the centerline of my body.  
     
It is only now that I am able to process the ordeal. The perfect symmetry of it all. Dominant, submissive, and the transfer of power. You stood over me like a god, my god. Bestower of everything, every pain, every pleasure. As you spent eternity painting me with wax.      
     
In that moment I loved, hated and worshiped you.      
     
TVS      
     
s.