Friday Femdom Fiction: Hands On Candle Wax

The room was lit only by the bright flare of the candle in her hand, and the fat little flickering telights floating in a glass bowl on the night stand. His body was stretched out beneath her, slim and angular, contrasts emphasized by the shadows and made softly shiny from the oil she had kneaded and pressed into his skin.

Before she had lit the candle in her hand, she’s dabbed her finger with sweet almond oil and starting at his bare shoulders, worked along the valleys and edges of muscle and bone. His skin was warm, thick and made soft by her ministrations and whisper fine hair.

When he’d come home she’d made him strip off all his clothing, shedding the office friendly polo and slacks, socks and all the contents of his pockets, admiring him in the curtain filtered light through the door, blue cast over shades of the lightest brown. She liked the smallness and darkness of his nipples, and the maleness of his chest, scattered with dark hair and broad, compared with his waist and his slim hips. In the candle light she could still see the muscular shape of his ass, and remembered the way her fingers dug in, teasing out the stresses of the day until, soothed by the oil, his body realeased itself to her and her touch.

The oil had soaked into her fingers as well, making them soft and leaving an almost imperceptible scent. She’d tried various kinds on his flesh, coconut butter in white lumps turning to a clear slickness, golden olive oil and liked them all, enjoying the glide of her hands over his skin and the press of her breast to his back when she lay atop him.

But now, warmed and ready, she extended her arm, catching the first few drops of wax on the back of her hand to test the temperature. Finding it sharp but safe, she slithered her fingernails down beside his spine before hovering, letting the shadow tell her where the drops would land before hearing the noise he made at each point of impact.

He groaned and wiggled, but stayed belly down, his arms held in the clasp of leather cuffs, anchored to the heavy headboard. She grinned, raising and lowering the height of the flame in her hand so that the heat was altered, controlling the volume and physical level of his reaction to her exact preference.

It was the wave of a conductor’s baton, not the precise calibration of scientific instruments, but as each spatter cooled in ragged white circles, she saw an increasing pattern in the rise and fall of his ass, humping the bed. She giggled, pressing her palm flat on his butt to grind him into the mattress and then adding a few plops of wax when he pushed back, making him yelp.

“Naughty little slut.” She was careful with her candle when she kissed and whispered in his ear. “You want to come, don’t you?”

“Mhm!” his head nodded, as he pushed himself up to the limits of the anchor rope and she twisted him, rolling him to his back. Her knees pressed into the bed bedside him, onto the towel she’d laid with care beneath him to save the sheets, and her free hand spidered over his stomach before caressing over his half engorged penis and the soft weight of his balls.

She made a purring giggle and brought the candle close to her face, making a small “o” with her lips, before blowing, putting out the flame with one strong puff. She set the candle aside and straddled him, the heels of her palms and bent wrists holding her weight over him, just the distance of her small, pert breasts and her panty clad groin wiggled against his.

“Well, you’ve been a good boy, so maybe I’ll indulge you…” She could feel her clit’s warm, buzzing tingle, teasing herself as she teased him. “Only I’m not in the mood to fuck, but I love seeing you shoot all over your belly. But I want to hear you beg me.”

“Please Miss C___”, please get me off!”

“Little louder…”

“Please!”

“Okay slut. I know those balls of yours have filled up again.” She swung her leg back over, ceasing to straddle him, and smiling at he effect on his cock as her fingers took another tiny bit of oil, before her hand circled him.

She began to stroke and pull at her length, her other hand cradling his balls before working around, fingers finding the sensitive place at the root of his penis, and the secret spots that extended to his ass, until he was bucking and sliding around in her hand, desperately trying to get that last little bit of stimulation to tip him to the point of no return.

“Slow down, you’ll come on my terms or you’ll even the evening with a ruined orgasm.” She warned.

He whimpered, and just when he thought he was past the point of being able to hold back, he heard her permission and felt the clench of her hand, coaxing.

“Ahhhh,” the orgasm caught him hard, heavier than he expected, rocking spasms through his body. She watched his body twitch, fighting the cuffs and his mouth open, chin tucking toward his chest as his cock sent two spurts of creamy white out, the first, airborn and splattering on his stomach and the second landing in a string across her fingers.

She brought her hand to her mouth, licking, smiling as he lay there, utterly helpless under her hands. “Good boy.”

~~~

A quickie with hot wax and an exploration of sensual female domination to add to the collection of femdom stories. Liked what you read? Leave a comment!

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1 Comment

  1. Very much enjoyed this! The part “It was the wave of a conductor’s baton, not the precise calibration of scientific instruments” is a beautiful line where I can see exactly what you mean in a poetic kind of way. I enjoy your manner of femdom, not too soft nor too rough (sometimes I like both of those but the middle ground is difficult to do and you handle it masterfully!)

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