Seeing Red

These new stings are the hottest: drops of red wax falling as blood-rain onto the tender flesh of my stomach. The burn lingers, seeping deep below the layers of fat into my core, shifting into a gentle, tickling bite as it hardens. It dribbles down my sides, rivulets following the lines of stretch marks at my waist. Divine, the way this pain strikes me like lightning.

Jesse watches, silent and stoic, as I writhe beneath them. This is where they want me, how they love me best: a mewling, whimpering, desperate mess beneath them. The wisp of fire at the tip of their candle brings shadows dancing over their face, those brown eyes soft and infinite in their depth. Another drop, another steady rise and fall of their chest as they watch me come undone.

They began at my feet, working their way up to here, now, where the wax seems to penetrate every organ, every muscle lining my stomach. It shoots into me, ruby red bullets landing along my rib cage. Jesse watches, the smallest smirk betraying their own sadistic hunger as they study the first tears falling back into my hairline. I strain against the cuffs they'd secured around my wrists, my knuckles white as I claw at the cuffs, our headboard, whatever I can get a grip on. Maroon and velveteen, the cuffs are soft and scratchy against my wrists as my fingers curl, my elbows flailing: pathetic.

All I can manage are gasps, begging for more and less all at once. Please, I say, and all I can do is weep and moan when Jesse smirks and says softly: Please what?

The candle, a long, thin shock of amber, shrinks down fast as Jesse ascends. They watch, licking their lips as the first droplets land on my breasts. I squirm, searching for any relief for the aching between my legs and the searing heat in my chest. My back arches, my hips swaying back and forth, reveling in the feeling of Jesse's butch cock laying on my hip bone. Their own heat matches my own, their hips rutting down against mine so I can feel their wetness soaking through their briefs.

Lying here, naked and trembling beneath them, awakens something ancient and hungry within me. I study the dark curls of their hair, their toned, broad shoulders, the glint in their eyes as wax splashes against my taught, straining nipple. I scan every inch of them as though this is the last time I'll have their full weight hovering over me. As if this is the last time they will give me the gift of such blissful agony.

It shifts something in me, forces all of my being to collapse down into my most base instinct, my most raw and honest self. I see some trickle of wax cool on Jesse's thumbnail, the same hardening as on every inch of my breasts, and every last thought slips away to nothing more than true desire.

"Please," I whimper again, and this time I know I can give Jesse the answer they've wanted all along.

"Please what?" Jesse asks, shifting so the wax inches higher to splash down onto my sternum.

"Please fuck me, Sir," I say, my eyes meeting theirs in a haze of need. Wide-eyed and pleading, a deer to Jesse's headlights.

Jesse licks their full lips, their whole body shifting, alight with desire. I see them here, like this, in their entirety. This need for control, this sadistic, hungry mass of wanting, beautiful in its depravity. I see them, as they see me, animals more alike than they realize. Both desperate for the other, aching for the chance to rip, or be ripped, apart.

Jesse's free hand grips my chin, the pads of their fingers pressing hard into my jawline. Shards of hardened wax break free from my skin as they lean into me, their strap pressing against the soft fat of my belly. The breadth of their palm holds my face like something delicate, something breakable. As they lean closer, I can feel their breath, shallow and fast, brush over my nose.

"That's what you want?" Jesse asks simply, running their thumb up along my cheek.

I nod emphatically, my eyes welling with tears. Jesse grips my chin tighter and pushes my head back, my peripheral obscured by plush pillows so all I'm left with is the sight of my own hands. I watch them move, twitching and shifting almost of their own accord, gripping our wooden headboard.

Jesse chuckles, watching me wriggle beneath them helplessly. I can picture them above me: that satisfied smirk, the beads of sweat at their brow, the light in their eyes when they've finally gotten me to a place where I am so utterly and completely overwhelmed by this craving.

"What's the rule, darling?" Jesse asks, taunting.

I whine and moan, stopping with a wince when they pull their hand back from my chin and land a heavy slap against my cheek. It's all I can do to bite my lip, steadying myself.

"The rule, you pathetic little slut. What's the rule?" Jesse asks again, and I can hear how their teeth are clamped together, seething in their desire for my obedience, my submission.

"I have to be collared, Sir," I stutter out, fumbling over every word as my blood rushes hot in my ears. "I have to be collared for you to fuck me."

"That's right," they tease, "and you're not wearing a collar, are you?"

"No, Sir," I whine, staring teary-eyed up at my hands as they ball up into tight fists.

Jesse hums, leaning back and dangling their candle over my collarbone, the red rain falling slowly.

"Let's fix that, then," they whisper, their voice sinister and glorious.

The wax splashes down on my throat before I can breathe out a word, my eyes rolling back as the searing pain shoots through me. Every drop lands along my neck in a rush of relentless heat, the pain alchemizing into delirious pleasure as it radiates through my body. Jesse's steady stream of wax lands like lava on my skin as I quiver and sob, begging for more. I clamp my eyes shut, my cunt spasming as the seconds pass in this bliss.

They don't stop until the candle is a useless nub, the flame too close to their fingertips to go on. My body, Jesse's canvas, shivers and convulses as they shift to pull my legs up and around their hips. My arms fall, limp against their restraints as I bask in the beauty of the collar they've made for me. It itches deliciously, a thousand pin-pricks shining like garnets along my flesh that keep my hummingbird heart fluttering with relentless hunger.

Jesse reaches for me after tossing the spent candle to the wayside. I feel their heat between my legs, their butch cock pressed too close to my aching clit for me to bear. I know I've started begging again, my voice a far away whisper as I plead: Please, Sir. Please, please, please...

Jesse listens silently, stroking their fingers over the edge of their design, drinking in the way I tremble at their touch.

"Good girl," Jesse coos, their voice a low, gravelly whisper against my skin. "My good girl..."

Their fingers close around my throat, a tight vice to hold me in place as they finally enter me. My body opens for them easily, my pussy clenching down around them as they fuck me. I find myself falling back into my body, at home again after floating in blissful, mindless pain. Jesse moans and gasps with each thrust, their free hand wrapping around my thigh, aching to get closer.

We move together, our bodies slamming together in a slick, hot flurry of motion. I pull uselessly at the cuffs, every inch of me desperate for Jesse's skin on mine as they fill me, stretch me, push me towards an impossible high. They move the same way I do, their desire spilling out of them, too vast to be contained.

Wax flakes off with every thrust, flesh revealed as a rebirth, as soft and sensitive as the first touch. Without it, the cool evening air rushes along my skin, every point of contact between Jesse and I a crazed burst of electric heat. With their hand and their collar on my throat, and their sweat-coated, broad body pressing hard against my form, time seems to slip away. I am lost in the dance, pleasure exquisite and endless as it blooms in my belly and fills my head.

I try to glance up, to catch some glimpse of their shock of dark hair, their furrowed brow, but they tighten their grip until I'm left red-faced and choking. The wax on my throat shatters, ruby shards falling into my hair and they release me as their body shudders. I gasp for air, my lungs spasming and expanding as the first waves of orgasm rush over me. Jesse pumps harder, faster, until they, too, fall apart. They press their forehead to my chest, sweat and slobber dripping onto my breasts as they groan, their whole body quivering with their release. It sends me ever higher, every inch of my being alight with this pleasure, as though every atom had suddenly come to life. As though my body were a dying star, every beam of light collapsed into itself - an explosion, transmogrifying this little death into new life.

When Jesse finally stills, they allow their body to sink onto my own. I find myself drifting, swimming in our damp sheets and the heady fog in my mind. Jesse's touch is all that anchors me, their lashes fluttering against my breast, their hands caressing my sides. And their collar, scarlet patches of cooled wax, on my throat - my North Star, resting over my pulse to guide me home.