I thought maybe this was how Lucent felt, and maybe it was why he worried so much. Maybe this was why he didn't want me to be near him before. But then, why did he let me come near him now? Was he too dark sometimes? He said he didn't want to hurt me and he worried he might, but I didn't think he would. Granted, I didn't think anything bad was going to happen with Cole, either. Was I too naive?
"Miss Tanner," Lucent said, snapping me out of my daydreamy thoughts. "I require a copious amount of purple. It's far easier if I pour the wax instead of brushing it. This also means it might become very hot. I can brush and spend more time on this if you'd rather, but I'm eagerly awaiting the end of your punishment."
The... end?
After I finish covering your sexy-as-fuck body with melted wax, I'm going to f**k every single thought out of your exceptionally curious head until you're nothing more than a mass of pleasure and ecstasy writhing beneath me on this very table.
My exceptionally curious head was all the more curious and agreed with Lucent's eager anticipation. For his part, he barely looked any different from calm, casual Lucent. It made me wonder if he was ever eager like this before, but I didn't realize it because he did a good job of hiding it. In the library? In the BDSM club? In his office?
"You can pour it," I said, meek and uncertain. This was another somewhat new thing, and it worried me again.
He picked up the lighter purple candle jar and held it over my chest. Slowly, he tipped it to the side and poured lavender colored wax onto my body. From the center of my br**sts, covering one and then the other, downwards, lower, pooling it onto my stomach.
It felt warm at first, inconsequential. Then warmer. Warmer still, and... very warm. I hitched my breath, inhaling sharply. But, fortunately, as soon as I thought the wax was too much to handle in any particular spot, Lucent move on. I glanced at him, grateful and worried and yearning all at once. He watched me, too. He seemed to have one eye on the fall of the wax and one on me, always keeping care to see how I was.
Protecting me, watching over me.
He had enough wax now and he tilted the jar upright again and returned it to the table. With another paintbrush, he shifted the purple around this way and that, connecting part of it to the greens, and painting other parts to match some image in his mind.
I'd focused so much on the wax and the heat that I didn't realize he still had a brush, too. The bristles shaped the purple into Lucent's ideal image, but they also caressed against my body. The paintbrush flicked across my nipple, back and forth. I bit my lip, excited. The wax cooled, but my body heated up at the prospects of Lucent's expertly wielded brush.
Back and forth, swishing, teasing me. He had nothing more to paint, but he seemed to like painting my nipple nonetheless. Without warning, he tossed the brush onto the table and moved down to kiss me hard on the lips. I gasped, breathing into his mouth. One of his hands forcefully grabbed my hair and tugged, bringing my head up and into his kiss, while his other hand reached for my oiled, glistening clit. He rubbed me gently, back and forth.
I wanted to grab him. I wanted to touch him. I went to do exactly that and tried to bring my hand to the back of his neck, but it was the hand he'd trapped with his leather cuff earlier. Feebly, I stretched to try and touch him, but the restraint refused me. Lucent slipped a finger into me roughly, toying with my sex, and he kissed me even rougher.
Then he stopped.
As quickly as that, he resumed his calm demeanor and reached for the darker purple wax. "More pouring, Miss Tanner."
I nodded, breathing hard, unsure what to make of this.
He poured the darker wax across some of the lighter one, focusing mostly on the breast he'd only partially painted the last time. This nipple needed attention too, no doubt, and Lucent supplied it with plenty in the form of hot and heated wax. He poured until it hurt, but no more, and then he moved on. The darker wax formed the shape of a sliver of a crescent moon, from my breast and nipple to the side of my stomach near my belly button.
Then, the brush. I watched him. I should ask questions, I thought, except I didn't know how to think of any questions right now. Everything eluded me. I was wax and heat and pleasure and his. Oil, slick, dripping and ecstatic.
He teased my nipple again like before. I knew. This time I knew what came after the brush against my nipple, just like I now knew what came after a spanking with Lucent. I knew and I waited and I grinned in anticipation, happy and eager.
Lucent didn't kiss me, though. He didn't throw the brush aside and attack me with his passion. He didn't touch my cl*t or my slit or my sex or my labia or anything. He did put the brush down gently, and took up another clean one, but I found this quite a bit less interesting.
He laughed at me. "Disappointed, are we?"
"I thought you were going to kiss me again," I said.
"I know." He dipped the brush into the single brown candle and painted a line from the lower parts of the purple and my belly button to the very top of my pubic hair.
"Why didn't you?" I asked.
"It's more exciting when you don't expect it," he said. "Your expression and your gasp and the look of surprise in your eyes pleases me. I like you in all ways, Miss Tanner, but those rare expressions of spontaneous pleasure are my favorites."
I smiled, giddy. Lucent sounded so formal and erudite sometimes, but I loved the meaning behind his words. He made everything he said important and special, and when he spoke about me I felt like I was important and special because of it.
He returned to the greens, painting little spots and lines here and there, following alongside the streak of brown. The brushes tickled and teased at my stomach and I squirmed a little, side to side, but I tried to stay still. With Lucent watching me, glaring and teasing me with his eyes, it made this difficult.
Soon he finished, though. Or nearly finished.
"Miss Tanner," he said. "This final part will be more intense than any of the previous parts combined, because of the nature of where I wish to pour wax. It is also paramount to my plans. If you wish to forego it, I shall understand, though."
I eyed him, confused. To better make his point, he rested his palm over my sex, curling his fingers downwards and squeezing me gently. I melted into him and pushed up against him, desiring more.
Taking hold of the mostly unused brown candle once more, he hovered it above his other hand and, by association, my p**sy.
I stared and... wait, oh my. Did he... wax pouring... heat... right there? His gentle, insistent nod seemed to indicate that, yes, he wanted to pour melted wax across my most intimate area.
"I trust you, Lucent," I said. "Please don't hurt me."
"Never," he said, and with such conviction that it stunned me. What was he thinking right now?
I didn't have time to ponder his meaning or his thoughts before he removed his hand from my body and began his final task.
It didn't hurt at first, nor was it anything exceptional. Wax dripped from the jar and onto my body. He started near the end of his previous brown line, creating a pool in my pubic hair, but then he went lower. The wax washed across my body at the same time, too, gathering heat and a little speed as it trailed lower and lower.
Then he reached my clit.
With the previous warmth already there, and more bubbling forth with Lucent's constant pouring, the effects were intense and immediate. I cried out, gasping. It didn't hurt so much as it was... powerful. A pervasive, strong heat pattered against the center of my pleasure, consuming me.
I was a body, a person, in a room, on the world, in a universe of many planets, but at that moment I felt like I was nothing more than my clitoris, a single pearl hidden behind a thin veil, being covered in smooth, silken wax from head to toe.
The wax dripped down my core, traveling across my labia, inside and out. For protective measures, or something more, Lucent pushed two fingers inside of me, keeping the wax away from my inner depths. Protective, yes, except this was somewhat of a double-edged sword.
My body clenched against his fingers and bucked in protest, alarmed at all of the sensation. But still he poured. I tried to grab the edge of the bed and grip it tight in my hands, but only one of them could. The other, bound by the leather cuff, stretched and strained uselessly near my side.
It was hot, too hot. Not too hot, though. Hotter than before, but it didn't burn yet. I could do more. I clenched my teeth, trying to overpower these new sensations with some that I knew better. My eyelids clamped tightly shut, blinding me, and still Lucent poured.
Then he stopped. He stopped and he kissed me. With two fingers still inside of me, and his lips on me, he uncuffed my wrist with his free hand. The snaps came loose and my arm broke free from restraint and I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him against me.
Or, I tried to pull him against me, but he smiled and laughed against my lips and pressed me back onto the table.
"Lucent," I whined. "I want to kiss you."
"Soon," he said. "I want you to see something."
This intrigued me. What was there to see? I looked down at my body and saw his painting, but from my odd vantage point, I couldn't quite make out what he'd done. I supposed it looked nice, though?
Holding up one finger, indicating I should wait patiently, he strode towards the door. Flipping another switch near the lightswitch, he waited. The panel above me quivered, shifted, and moved aside. Directly overhead was a body-length mirror set into the ceiling.
I looked up, and in effect down, at myself.
Painted across my body in tender detail was a purple lilac. The original green part from when he began made a leaf, and the purples created the main part of it, with tiny florets swirling across my br**sts. The brown line down my stomach was a branch, and the other green spots were more leaves. The thick brown patch across my pubic area and my sex formed a mound of dirt, or something like it. I didn't think this was part of the picture exactly, but it did look nice and interesting, albeit different.
I gaped, staring at my body and the wax picture painted onto me.
"With your permission," Lucent said, "I would like to take a picture of this. I will keep it private, Miss Tanner, and I swear never to show anyone."
"I..." I didn't know how I felt about that. Was this pornography or art? Both? Who knew? "Can I have a copy?" I asked, sheepish.
He blinked at me, clearly caught off guard. "Yes," he said after taking a moment to regain his composure. "If you'd like, I can arrange that."
I nodded and lay perfectly still. The wax covering my cl*t and my lower lips cooled, but I continued to feel an insistent pulse where Lucent had first poured it. Pounding, beating, thrumming like a miniature heartbeat, my cl*t desired freedom and release.
Lucent reached atop one of his bookshelves and retrieved a fancy looking camera. Turning it on and adjusting the settings, he pointed it at me and...
Click.
Just one. That was enough, apparently. I glanced over at him in time to see him turning the camera off and stowing it away.
What now? We were going to have sex, he said. I definitely liked that idea. Though I didn't quite know how this should work with me covered in wax. Lucent knew what he was doing; he returned to my side and collected a small, metal spreading knife from one of his drawers.