It seems that Jade has chosen another great kink topic that I love; Wax Play. As with spanking, anyone who is a regular reader here will be aware that wax play is another kink that we like to indulge in when we can. Probably the most recent piece about wax play was the race against the Pizza man where wax play was used to actually make the task I had been set that little bit harder and a great deal hotter (in both senses of the word) If you don’t know the story you can check out the post called Ready, Steady, Pizza but despite the challenge I managed to cum before the pizza arrived and I think the image on that page demonstrates just how much I enjoyed myself in the process.
Wax play is something I fantasized about for a very long time before actually trying it. I have always had a deep fascination with candles and you will find them scattered all around my house as a result. In days gone by when we were still living apart I could often be found curled up in my front room or bedroom bathed in the soft gentle glow of candle light and of course more often than not my mind would wander to thoughts of candle wax, heat, and what that would be like. There is something very sensual about that flickering light and the fiery marriage between a light source and a heat source that just seemed to appeal to me. Like the heat of my skin when he spanks me, the candle seemed to promise an equally hot experience.
In fact there are some strong similarities between spanking and wax play, they are both about an element of anticipation and they both involve a sensation that creates heat but that is where the similarities end and to be honest those similarities are actually only tricks as although the words are the same the way they play out is very different.
Laying there beneath him naked, bound and blindfolded the shiver anticipation flutters through my skin. I can hear the click of the lighter and that unmistakable scent of warm wax as he moves around me. With spanking you anticipate the first strike and then as it goes on your body attempts to find the rhythm and work with it but with wax, no matter how skilled the person is holding the candle, you just cannot do that. It is totally unpredictable. It will never drop in controlled steady amounts and even if you for a brief moment it does when it hits the skin it splatters. The main drip will land on the skin creating a hot stinging bubble of wax but then almost unseen tiny little droplets will leap and fall, scattering the sensation over a larger area. It is utterly unpredictable and as such you cannot anticipate it or prepare for it or even understand it when it does touch you because wax has a little hot mind of its own. It can run as it cools, it can gather in puddles on the curves of your body, it can arrive in big bubbles of hot sticky liquid or, if you hold the candle closer, then you will get small quick little droplets that have no time to cool on their journey to meet with your flesh.
The heat from the wax tightens on the surface of your skin. The initial touch of the fiery liquid feels almost unbearably hot, but almost instantly the wax starts to cool just enough to create a warm coating that slowly tightens on your skin as it contracts back into its solid form. It all happens so quickly and yet of each one of those stages is identifiable, at first, but as more wax rains down all those different and slightly conflicting sensations collide and as a result you twitch and twist and turn as your body tries to adjust to the onslaught of sensations
Wax play doesn’t end with the blowing out of the candle either because, unless you have used a coating of massage oil to stop the wax sticking you now have the stuff firmly glued to your skin and all the tiny little hairs that adorn your body. A new discovery to us has been how another love of ours, knife play, can be combined with wax play when you use the knife to peel away your newly acquired layer of what almost feels like skin. Laying there as he slowly strips off this new layer from my now overly warm and sensitive flesh is a sensation that I can only image is about as close as having the top layer of your skin peeled off as you can get to, without actually doing it. Of course like many of these kinks it is really a matter of letting the mind go, of exploring the possibilities, of allowing the mind fuck to fuck with you but it is a new experience that I find myself craving more.
Wax play doesn’t leave the same sort of marks as spanking but I think it is a very visual kink nevertheless, the whole process is beautiful to me, the patterns, the colours, the way it moulds and shapes itself around the lines of the body and then the delicious removal of it that will often leave the skin red and glowing as if it is still carrying the heat of the earlier molten wax. I love it all, from that moment when I know it is about to happen to the ending when the floor is covered with the dried wax that moments before clung to my skin with their determined grip.
He flogged me, starting with a gentle swish of the leather tails before slowly building up the intensity of each touch until the air was being forced out of my lungs with the power from each strike. The skin on my backside throbbed as the blood pumped through my muscles flooding the area with heat. Between my thighs a similar heat mixed with my own wetness tingled.
Then the metal rod, which felt like ice on my burning skin, was bought into play. Its deep thudding qualities resounding through the very core of me and making the heat and blood rise even faster than before.
The vampire gloves sent shivers up my spine as he dragged them slowly across my flesh and then a few simple slaps and I knew I was bleeding, I could feel the sticky fluid clinging to my skin but then there was something else, something hot and yet cool all at the same time. By the time he was done everything that had gone before was encased in a cooling covering of candle wax and beneath that layer was my bruised and broken flesh and the room was filled with the powerful scent of lust…. and the unmistakable smell of an extinguished candle.
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