I nodded, sincere, knowing Lucent took this seriously. He worried and cared and he didn't want to hurt me, even if he did want to punish me. They were different, I thought. Before, the continued heat of the wax on my nipple hurt a little, but it wasn't a bad hurt. When he spanked me in the library, that was similar, too. An ache, soreness, intense feeling, but not pain. Not bad.
To be completely honest, the only time Lucent had caused me pain thus far was when he left me. When he left those messages on my phone, stating we could never see each other again, and when he yelled at me in his office and left me there. That hurt, but it wasn't even physical, either.
He smiled at me and kissed me lightly on the lips. "I'm going to begin. Usually I would prefer if you remained silent, but if you must ask a question, feel free to do so. I realize this is your first time doing this, and I enjoy your curiosity, so I shall favor you in that."
I nodded, and then I realized something. Something important, too. A shift in thinking, abrupt and all-encompassing.
This wasn't a punishment.
Lucent said it was, and I knew it probably was under different circumstances, but this, right now and right here, wasn't a punishment. It was an enlightenment of sorts. A punitive transcendence?
He did want to punish me, and this was somewhat that, but mostly he wanted me to know that his BDSM things were nothing like Cole's. I didn't know if this was actually what Lucent intended, but this was what I believed. Sam said something similar, too. Sam also said that I was in good hands with Lucent. I agreed with him.
Alongside me, Lucent removed his suit jacket and his dress shirt. He lay his clothes atop mine, then opened one of the drawers in his small table and pulled out a white bottle of mineral oil. Uncapping it, he poured a generous amount in his hand, and began my punishment.
...
With Lucent next to me, shirtless and rubbing oil all over my body, I found it somewhat difficult to relax. I assumed he wanted me to relax, but, oh my God. Really now. How was I supposed to do that with some attractive, muscular man rubbing me down?
He started at my neck, wrapping his fingers around my throat and gently pushing down along the sides. Then, towards my shoulders, squeezing lightly and pressing near my collarbone. Along my arms, down, and back up to my armpits. We needed oil there, too, and I laughed as he kneaded his fingers into the pit of my arm.
"Miss Tanner," Lucent growled, but he had a devilishly wicked and delightful grin on his face. "Stop moving."
"It tickles!" I said in protest.
"I have restraints," he said. "They're built into the table, strapped underneath. Do I need to use them?"
I stopped squirming as he massaged me, but not because of this idle threat. Mostly, I wondered what it might be like if he strapped me to the table. Were they full body restraints, or just arm and leg ones?
"What kind of restraints?" I asked, letting my curious nature get the best of me.
Lucent had moved onto my chest now after slathering more mineral oil into his hands. Tantalizing and light, he rolled my br**sts around in his hands, moving in and out, tweaking my n**ples at the apex of his manipulations.
"There are cuffs," he said. "Leather. This table is for one thing and one thing only, so I need to be mindful of that. I like leather and oil. They go well together and have a very primal look and feel and smell. It's nice. I also have belts," he added, "to strap around your wriggling body and hug you tight so you can't get away from me."
I beamed at him, my smile as bright as the lights above. I liked that Lucent felt that way now and I hoped it was more permanent. I didn't want him to want me to go away.
Bending low, squeezing one of my br**sts roughly for a moment, he grabbed my well-oiled nipple between his teeth and bit lightly on it. I gasped and my body bucked up, but Lucent held me against the table with his hands.
"Tsk tsk," he said, sounding more amused than anything. "I really should use these restraints, shouldn't I?" He let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Can you put one of the cuffs on my wrist?" I asked. "If... if you don't want to, you don't have to." I blushed and looked away from him.
"Curious?" he asked.
"I'd like to know how it feels, but just one. I don't know if I'll like it."
Lucent nodded and leaned forward to kiss me quickly. The oil from my nipple, now lightly smeared on his lips, dripped into my mouth. It tasted of nothing and slipperiness, warm and inconspicuously sweet.
"Just one," he said. "I'll keep it loose. If you want, you should be able to slip your hand out of it without much effort."
I nodded. I liked that. I didn't know about the cuff or the leather or any of this, but I wanted to know. Just a little bit, just one. That was a small amount, and enough for me.
Lucent removed himself from my presence to collect one of the cuffs. Returning, he showed it to me; it had a metal snap on the end, with varying snaps for different sized wrists all along the outer edge. I held my hand out to him and he wrapped the cuff around my wrist, snapping it at the loosest setting. The cuff hung around my wrist like a large bangle bracelet.
Satisfied, Lucent resumed oiling me. Faster now, towards my stomach, he pushed against my abdomen with his fingers and thumbs. My body tensed and tightened and flexed under his fingers, but he had this way of doing it where every push of his fingertips quickly moved towards a softer spot, evading my body's inadvertent flexing. It tickled a little, but otherwise I loved it. I didn't even know how to describe it. Were stomach massages a thing? If so, Lucent was an expert at them.
And down. Getting more oil, he poured it directly onto my sex. I glanced down my body, staring at the slippery clear liquid pooling near my pubic bone and then sliding through my trimmed hair, towards my clitoris, and forming a slick waterfall past my labia and my slit. I only saw this for a moment before Lucent dutifully continued oiling me.
His fingers spread the oil towards my h*ps and my thighs, then back again. Rubbing it into my pubic hair, smoothing it around, he traced a path towards my clit, and...
Fuck! One finger, just one, and light, small circles, he stroked a line around the hood of my clit, over and over again. Over, inwards, again, further, teasing and spreading away the soft covering of skin above my little bulb of pleasure. Then he touched me, featherlight, directly on my slippery, glistening pearl.
I wanted him to do this to me over and over again, forever, his finger orbiting around the blazing Sun of my body, but it was not to be. Lucent slid downwards, towards the entrance to my sex, and oiled me there, too. Taking careful measures, he made certain that I had some amount of oil glistening in every crevice of the core of my body. My labia, each curve, all of me; artfully lubricated and rubbed smooth by Lucent's commanding hands.
That was it, though. Not my legs, apparently. I would've liked him to oil up my legs, I thought, but Lucent had other plans.
Digging through his table drawers, he pulled out an assortment of paintbrushes stored in thick plastic pouches.
"These were specially made for me," he said. "I have also gone through the process of sterilizing them to adhere to my strict specifications. They are extremely clean and safe." Nodding to me, he added, "Close your eyes."
My eyes closed immediately with barely any thought involved.
"Why?" I asked.
"Quiet for a moment," he said. "You may speak after."
I listened to him and accepted his order and quieted.
A tickle from the softest paintbrush bristles I'd ever felt teased across my closed lips. It was so odd and strange and sensitive that I wanted to laugh, but then the paintbrush moved, quick as that. He touched my nose, waving back and forth. I wanted to nuzzle against the brush and move my head into it. This felt so different and nice.
Upwards, along the bridge of my nose, brushing across my eyebrows, then down. Ever so gently, Lucent painted a line of air, back and forth, across my eyelashes.
This wasn't orgasm or cli**x or anything of the sort, except it was, too. Pleasure, bundled up, centered on my eye and my eyelids and my tiny little lashes. It felt so amazing and beautiful and soft, and I thought that if for some reason I ever couldn't have sex, this was the second best thing.
Lucent knew a lot of these things, didn't he? He understood. Had he done this to himself, too? He mentioned he experimented with the safety of candle wax, but what about this? I imagined Lucent laying down, carefully teasing the soft bristles of a paintbrush across his closed eyes, experiencing this pleasure for himself.
Would he let me do that to him sometime? Would he let me bring him this pleasure? I sighed at the thought, wistful.
Lucent teased along my other eye now and I thought time must have stopped, because it seemed like forever and mere seconds later when he pulled the paintbrush away.
"You may open your eyes, Miss Tanner," he said quietly.
My eyes fluttered open, alive and new and pleasant and fresh. "That was really nice," I said.
"You liked it?" he asked. A wide, boyish smile teased at his lips.
I nodded, quick. "Yes."
"I have enough wax to begin," he said. "Are you ready?"
I nodded again. "Yes."
"Good. It may be slightly uncomfortable sometimes, and be very warm, but I promise not to hurt you, Miss Tanner. I am going to paint a picture with wax across your body now."
He... what? Oh my. Was that a thing? Yes, I supposed so, because he was about to do it. I wondered if this was a BDSM thing, a Lucent thing, or one of the most romantic things I'd ever heard of. I decided it probably was a bit of all three.
I was about to become a wax and oil painting, apparently, and I thought maybe this was amazing.
...
Despite having felt the wax before, touching it with my fingertips and seeing it harden into a shell around my nail and skin, I grew anxious. Trepidation, the calm before the storm, or any number of cliches about adventure and disaster; these ideas zoomed through my mind. I knew it shouldn't hurt, and Lucent said it wouldn't hurt, but what if it hurt?
He took a paintbrush and dipped it into one of the green candles, then hurried to color a patch of my skin. The wax dripped onto the side of my arm, then my breast, until finally it swished and brushed against my body near my shoulder. Lucent painted a swath of green from the outer edge of my collar bone to the top of my breast.
I winced, prepared for the worst, but nothing bad happened. The tiny drops of green wax on my arm and breast dried quickly, glossy and light. The longer line of green remained warm and soft and smooth against my body. Blinking, I watched as Lucent painted me and the wax cooled and dried.
He grinned. "I told you it wouldn't hurt."
"I know. I just..." I just didn't know. I didn't know these things as much as Lucent knew them, and it was all so foreign and new to me. Exotic and interesting, but scary, too. I remembered Cole and his "version" of BDSM and how bad it made me feel.
Lucent let the first brush lay against the table and he picked up another. Dipping it into the darker green, he painted a line next to his previous one, melding the two shades together into something light, then mixed, and finally dark.
That's what this was, I thought. There was something soft and curious about this, and that was the light, but then darkness waited on the other side. If you went too far, stretched yourself beyond your limits, you reached that bad spot. But, if you were careful, guided and wary, you could move partway into the shadows without becoming entirely consumed by them.