Because She Loves Me….

This was a short trip up to the house and back. She has brought with her a birthday cake. My wife is an accomplished baker.  The round cake has white icing.  And it has colorful candles, not sure of the count. Six, seven, eight maybe. They are large, maybe six inches tall and over one-half inch in diameter. And they are all lit.  She sits it down on my upper chest. “Happy birthday Toy,” and as she laughs tells me, “It is a ginger spice cake. I thought you would enjoy it now that you have a newfound love of ginger root. Make a wish and blow out the candles.”  I try with a big breath to blow out the candles, but there is no way with the immobile angle I am at and the height and distance to the cake. “Oh, what a shame, you didn’t get your wish. I guess we’ll have to find another way of putting them out as they are so bright that I think you might be seen. Maybe that was your wish.”

“No ma’am, I don’t want to be seen,” I reply with nervousness as to what her next step will be.

“I would have never thought of this, didn’t even know couples did this. Your good old buddy brought it up when I talked about making the cake. It seems that it is not far from mainstream, maybe even part of mainstream sex play. So much so that I found the candles on Amazon advertised as romantic wax play candles for lovers couples. He thought it would be a great birthday theme punishment. I’m told they won’t burn you, but they will give you pain pleasure. Let’s see.” And she pulls a white candle from the cake. She makes sure I get a good look and then tips it above my chest.

It immediately drips hot wax down onto my skin. It initially shocked me and made me jump. It was a burning sensation, but it didn’t burn. It was hot and I reacted like it. But the temperature of the wax seems low enough that it didn’t sustain itself as hot, but as warm, very warm. I was new to this. She dipped the candle again and another drop fell with the same result. Then another, then another and another. It gave my body and mind another pain and pleasure experience. A moderate one. She worked the candle so that the wax spread across my chest in dots. She then turned the candle, so it was almost upside down dripping a larger quantity of wax intensifying the result upon landing and she blew the candle, now half consumed, out. “One down, six to go Birthday Toy. Is it good for you, it’s good for me,” she snickers.

A second candle is taken from the cake, and this time the target zone is my belly button and surrounding skin. Multiple drips, not all in a row were dropped so that my navel was abundantly filled with hot wax before she extinguished this blue candle. The third candle, yellow, worked my shoulders. The fourth, green, and fifth, red, were applied to the area missed between the area of my chest and navel. Each drop or bigger pour still causes the body to react with a little movement, the bigger splashes a jump. She was taking her time, there was no rush, there was plenty of time to fill tonight. “Oh, we are almost done with the candles, only two still lit. I’ve seen to have neglected your nipples and privates. Let’s fix that.” I hadn’t noticed that she had not touched those areas as my mind was always on the initial pain sensations and recovery from where she was landing. Now I have a new concern, these are more sensitive areas, The nipples will be first, my privates the grand finale. It is tougher on my nipples than where she had already been. It feels hotter, burns a little longer, pain is a little greater. And that was for a few reasons, they are just normally more sensitive than skin is in general, they have been already abused today so they are still a tad tender, and three, she is holding the candle closer to me than before to improve her accuracy in landing the wax where she wants it. She used much more of this candle than the others.

Worse, but I’m fine. I’ll even admit it was exciting in the uneasiness, and therefore this was fun and wanted. It was then onto my privates with the last candle, a purple one. They were even more sensitive than the nipples due to past abuse and sexual use of the day, going all the way back to my initial shaving. She gave my dick the first drops and I could feel it making involuntary twitches as they landed. It was then onto my sack which had less tolerance to the attack and therefore a greater pain reaction, though still well within the pain to pleasure scale. “Oh, drat, this candle is almost done, and I’m not finish with my art project. Good thing I still have two unused candles,” she says amusingly. She picks up the two extras she had lying on the ground, lights their wicks with my last birthday cake candle, and blows that one out.

She then plays with them together, aligning them so the wicks touch, resulting in a much larger menacing flame. A bigger flame and twice as much wax makes for much grander and hotter drops. She dances with the candles together for a few moments then she moves them apart so that multiple drops are falling simultaneously. All on my privates and inter thighs. OK, so we are moving to the upper range of pain pleasure for the moment. She notices my much greater reactions and that I am trying to move my hips back and forth to avoid the onslaught of hot wax. “Gee if I only had a third hand for another candle, you seem to love this,” she teases. But she realizes that a limit is closing in and she stops. She brings the candles up close to my mouth and says, “Go ahead and blow them out, I’m giving you a second chance at making your next wish come true.”

I am unsuccessful again at extinguishing the candles, so she blows them out. I don’t know if she had made a wish and if what was what was next is what she wished for, but it was different and, in her mind, fun play. “Let’s have some birthday cake.”  She cuts two pieces and then straddles my wax coated chest and sits down on me. She takes one cake plate and places it down on my upper chest. Then she showed me the used rubber I had recently worn. She upends it and while I can’t see well because of my neck bonds I can tell she is pouring it onto what is my cake slice. She makes sure every available drop is coaxed out of the rubber, squeezing it through two tight fingers. I see the ample amount that I had put in it dribble out and fall onto the cake. It now has a new icing.

She takes a plastic fork, scoops up a piece of cake that she knows is loaded and tells me to open wide. Just like an infant I will be fed my birthday cake. My cum and ginger flavor cake. The cake, like all her baked goods, was delicious. The cum icing, which was still noticeable, in contrast was not.

After the cake celebration, I was dewaxed with a butterknife and a few other kitchen utensils. The wax shock and pain were an almost forgotten memory, the wax removal being an uneventful passing of time. I was glad it was off my skin, but it was no issue being there either. She finished by wiping me down with a coarse wet sponge and dried with a kitchen towel. Mosquito lotion was reapplied to replace what was just lost in my cleaning. “I’m headed back inside to clean up and get stuff for your next adventure. You going to be alright here?” 

“Yes Ma’am,” the respectful reply.