Wax and Wane ~ Wax Play ~
The title Wax and Wane is a phrase often used to describe the phases of the moon, but can also give meaning to anything that grows in strength and then dwindles. This is a very apt description of the feeling achieved when hot wax first hits your skin. It has a strength which diminishes as it cools.
I experience that momentary pain, before the satisfying coolness and pressure from the solid-ification of the wax, hits the skin on my left breast. I love the sensation but squirm around, pushing my arse down into the smooth wood of the table top I am laying on. “Keep still bitch, I want this drop to land right on your nipple.” I lay back, fists slightly clenched, in their rope restraints, anticipating. I am blindfolded and secured to the table by ropes running the full circumference of the sur-face. Taking in my wrists along the way. My ankles are free. This moment of waiting seems to last literally minutes.The odour of the dinner we consumed earlier hangs in the air. Then the scorching sensation hits my right nipple. “Fuck me,” I cry out in anguish. “Later, but for now ask me nicely to drip wax on your cunt lips.” “Can you drop the wax on my cunt,” I murmer. “No you can do better than that, bitch, ask me nicely,” he roughly tweaks my other nipple. “Eh, please could you drip wax on my cunt.” “Where do you want it on your cunt?” He breaths heavily onto my face. “On my cunt lips please,” inhaling deeply. “Open your legs then, let me see your lips and I don't want any complaints”. As I open my thighs the wax lands right between my slit with a searing joy. I bite my lip so as not to exclaim, but shivers escalate up and down my spine.
Wax and Wane ~ Real or not?
I have a vague memory of a similar scenario to the above happening between my man and me a couple of years ago – although it has to be said I can’t remember many of the details so it could be more fiction than fact.
I do know we have played with wax a few times and both really like it. On a practical note I do occasionally worry that the wax may fall on the carpet or furnishings and it is so difficult to get off. Maybe that’s because we have, of course, used standard church candles. I have to admit I have no idea if the wax play kits that can be purchased from kink retailers are better in this respect.
But what is the fascination with wax play? For me it’s that wonderful short, sharp pain. Followed by a soothing effect as the wax dries and almost seems to seal and protect the area. It is similar to having a swift hand spank to your arse, followed by a tender caress. I do wonder if those people that don’t like to administer or receive pain think there is something askew within the brains of those who do.
I have thought long and hard as to why I like to be on the receiving end. The answer is probably complex.
The prime motive is about trusting and giving up control. I find it very difficult to do either of these things as a general rule in everyday life. When I let my man inflict pain on me I am trusting him with my body – I am allowing myself to be his muse as I give up my control to him. It becomes almost a relief for me to surrender that power. Not to have to be the strong, independent woman, but rather have my sexual needs catered for, and – crucially – decided by somebody else.
So why do you like pain?
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