In the interest of fairness, I was asked to assure you that we have NOT changed our rule against using wax in sessions; sadly, there was too much damage done when we allowed it. But the thought is wonderfully sexy...

The Perfect Moment in Time

From the moment that she comes into my view I feel myself rise from my chair to greet her, for she is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever known. Her body is strong, her legs gorgeous, and her face is hypnotically beautiful. The power she radiates is, if anything, even more striking than her outward appearance. She gives me a hug and a small peck on the cheek, then starts to lead me up the stairs to where we enter her domain. After the formal requirements and protocols are fulfilled, she tells me to fold my clothes and put them on the chair in the corner and to kneel in the middle of the room, with condom in place, and my hands behind my back. She leaves me.

I hurry to undress and to do as I’m told. I’m kneeling in front of the cross and I notice the redness of the carpet. There’s a mirror behind the cross, so I center myself so as not to see behind me. I listen to the quietness of the room with only the noise of the clock for company. I hear footsteps and hope it is her and then the doorknob rattles.

As the door opens I feel the breeze go past my body. With this tingle, I feel my Goddess enter. She might be mortal but for the next couple of hours she will control every aspect of my existence from pain to pleasure. She will control my happiness and, if she chooses, my sadness, too. Thus, she is the closest thing to a Goddess I know of.

I listen as she places her chosen items on the counter by the door. She turns on the CD player. The singer sounds like Sinead O’Connor. She comes up from behind me and I can feel her essence as she approaches. She bends closer and with a gentle touch starts to caress my body. Her knowing voice says into my ear, “You are mine”. With those words, if there was any resistance in me, it is irrevocably lost.

She traces my body like a Pepsis wasp, the tarantula hawk, does that of a tarantula. The tarantula knows that the wasp is going to sting it but is unable to resist the wasp’s careful arousing of its helpless body. However, unlike the tarantula, I want the sting, for when my Goddess stings me, it will cause her pleasure.

She slowly moves so her eyes stare deeply into mine. Her eyes have the power to look inside me and pull out whatever she wants. Her eyes remind me of the ocean in the tropics. They give me the feeling that I can almost see something and I just want to jump in and look. She gives a gentle kiss on my forehead before she rises.

I hear her pick up chains and move back toward me. I can hear her attach the chains to the ceiling. Then she moves back to the counter to pick up something else. She commands me to raise my arms. I do as I’m told, and then I feel her put leather restraints on my wrists. I rise as fast as I’m able to when she tells me to stand. She takes my wrists and attaches them to the chains from the ceiling. She tells me to spread my legs. I feel her tie a rope around my left ankle. Then she takes the ends of the rope and attaches them to the wall. She repeats the process with my right ankle. I am exposed and vulnerable for whatever she wants.

She resumes her gentle caressing of my body, then her caressing starts to get rough. She grabs my nipples and tugs and squeezes them until I moan. She then moves in front of me and grabs my left nipple and applies pressure while staring into my eyes. She starts to breathe with short breaths and without conscious thought I start to match her breathing. As I do this I see her smile, which is my reward for pleasing her, for when she smiles, wickedly or gently, she strikes something within me that yearns to keep her happy.

She then moves back to her counter and I hear her light a match. In a few moments she whispers into my ear in her most gentle voice, “Stay with me”. I know she intends for me to take the pain that she is about to unleash. She breathes gently into my ear, and I feel my nerves light up to respond to anything she will do. Then I feel heat on my right shoulder. All my muscles flex from the pain. I look down my chest to see the wax rolling down until it cools. Then she goes to my other shoulder and pours on it the wax from the candle. I feel the pain that she has already given me and I desire the pain with which she is blessing me. As she continues to cover my body, front and back, with wax, I feel as though my flesh will burn off. Then she arrives at what I think is her favorite spot to cause me torment: my manhood. She puts the flame underneath my ballsack, close enough so I can feel the flame but not close enough to get burned. I feel my body start to sweat then she looks back into my face with her eyes and that smile. Then she goes back to her fun and slowly pours the wax on my testicles. I’m trying hard to stand still and keep quiet but the pain is so intense I groan loudly. I lose track of the time that she has been tormenting me. Finally, she stands up and says, “I enjoyed that”. I look into her face and can tell that she’s telling the truth.

Then she starts to take the wax off my shoulders and chest. I can feel how sensitive my skin has become. She goes and grabs clothespins from the counter, and starts to place them on the loose flesh of my chest. When she is satisfied, there must be at least 15 clothespins on each side of my chest. They look like a row of dominos ready to be knocked over, though they will never fall. Then my Goddess goes over to the counter and returns. She faces me and slowly puts her mouth on mine, and then I feel the water hit my tongue. I start to suck it out of her mouth as though this will give me new life to keep going. She moves away and I feel her lips leave mine and I just want to move with her to feel her soft lips. However, I won’t, for that might displease her, something I never want to do.

Then she starts to tap the clothespins on my chest. She alternates intensities, from lightly tapping them to pulling them so hard that the pain makes me moan. My moans and groans are glorious music to My Goddess’ ears. I become her instrument, with clothespin keys for her to play. All the time she is doing this she looks into my face. I see her smile and the excitement coming from her eyes. I feel her spell on me strengthen with each passing moment. Slowly she takes the clothespins off, one by one. I feel the blood rushing back to my chest and the pain that it brings with it. I let the noise escape my mouth from the pain. I hear my Goddess exhale in a choppy breath for she too is excited. Then she starts to tickle me for she knows the more aroused I become, the more sensitive my skin is, and the more I am tickled, the more aroused I become. I am caught in this cycle and she enjoys seeing me squirm, unable to stop her onslaught, barely able to bear it but unwilling to try to stop her.

She goes and grabs the sheet-draped table from its place against the wall and rolls it in front of me. She then releases the leather restraints from the ceiling chains and slowly leans me forward. My chest rests on the surface and my Goddess attaches my wrists to each side of the table. I hear her move behind me and don’t know what she is doing. Then from the corner of my eye she places something next to my head. I can see the tip of it and realize it’s my Goddess’ favorite toy- a cane!

I feel my Goddess’ gloved fingers start to slowly rub the hole in my ass. She gently circles it, lighting up an area of my body that rarely gets touched. I try not to move, but my body fails me and I start to shake.
She asks me, “What’s wrong? Does this hurt?”

I can only reply, “No, Ma’am. It feels wonderful”.

I can hear the smile in her voice as she says, “Good”.

She starts to go inside me with her fingers, stretching me open. After several minutes of this, she withdraws her fingers. I feel empty but not for long. She places something next to my entrance and immediately I know it’s her cock. I feel her gently, slowly, push it into my guts. I feel the discomfort until she starts to pump in and out of me, telegraphing her own enjoyment. She grabs my pelvis and her pace quickens. I feel the pressure of my arousal building up inside me. I ask if I can have permission to orgasm. She picks up her cane and firmly says “no”, and then I feel the sting on my back as her cane comes slicing down. Wax still left on my back crumbles and falls off the sides. She keeps fucking me with her strap-on until I feel I can’t hold on much longer. I ask again if I can have permission to release. Her answer is the same no and I feel the cane striking my back again. She keeps taking me to the edge and keeps denying my orgasm and then makes sure I don’t disobey by using the cane to bring me back from the brink of orgasm. I know that with every thrust of her dildo and every smack of her cane she makes more and more of me hers. I lose count of how many times I ask her, how hard I beg her for permission to cum and how many cane strokes she lays on my back. I stop asking and simply pray for the strength to hold out and not disappoint her. Then she puts the cane down and tells me, firmly, “Cum for me, now, for I control you and I decide when you may”. With that, I feel her arms reach under my chest. I pull against the leather and the chains that hold my outstretched wrists as my orgasm starts to take over. She pushes herself into me as far as she can go. She grabs hold of the flesh of my chest and I feel intense pain that seems as though she is going to rip my pecs off. The combined pain and pleasure are too much for me to be able to think or to control any part of my body.

When the moment has passed I feel her bodyweight against my back. I know her requirements: as soon as I can form words, I must thank her for allowing me this orgasm. She slowly grinds herself into me to remind me I still belong to her. We lie there, both catching our breath. She slowly rises and I feel her withdraw from me and feel the void where she had been, and is no longer. I hear her cock and harness bounce on the towel on the floor. She releases my ankles and wrists. She tells me to roll over onto my back on the table. I lie there and become aware once again of the pain of the cane stripes on my back. She climbs onto the table and straddles my stomach, kneels over me, and looks at me with her hungry eyes, then lowers her head and pushes her lips against mine. I’m completely happy, for this moment in time my body, mind, and soul all belong to...

Mistress Tatiana.