“About how badly will it hurt?” I ask my fuck buddy.

She giggles and asks me what my pain tolerance is. I tell her and she wispily replies “It won’t hurt too badly then.”

Good thing I like pain.

She takes my arms and puts them in the under the bed restraints that we went half on, and then does the same with my ankles. I’m completely on my tummy spread eagle and naked on the bed, nervous and waiting.

The flick of the lighter scares me slightly; I can’t see her so she has the element of surprise and I need to use my senses to figure out what she’s doing- something I’m not too good at.

It really is good that I like pain because the first drop takes me by complete surprise. It makes me gasp out loud and squirm. I have to be careful though because while I totally consented to get hot body wax dripped onto me, my sheets did not.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and just as quickly as I nod I feel another drop of wax hit my skin.

It burns, it stings, but fuck it feels nice. I whimper. The back of my thighs hate me, but I love the contrast of sensations. I love the way my skin cools ever so slightly before I feel another hot drop of wax, followed by another. The drops come in rapid succession and I find myself growing wetter as they do until I’m finally begging her for a reprieve.

The drops pause for a moment before she begins again, slower this time, which is somehow more agonizing than fast.

I groan softly and arch my back, damming my sheets.

“How about-“ she begins, pausing to drip a long strip of wax along my flesh “- you count the drips all the way up to fifteen, and then we can stop.”

I feel like fifteen will take forever. By that time I’ll be nothing but a puddle of goo and melted wax, but I whimper and agree, pulling at my wrist restraints and tugging at my ankle ones.

“Be good or I’ll add more drops!”

That makes me stay still very quickly.

“Are you ready?” she begins, and as soon as a breathless “yes” leaves my lips, the hot wax comes. At points it’s fast and I nearly lose count, but then it slows down and the drops have such long moments between pauses that at points I hear the flick of the lighter as she relights the wick.

The first seven go by quickly enough, but from eight onward time slows to an agonizing crawl. I can barely take it. I love pain but the hot wax makes me feel like I’ll melt right along with it. This is not for the faint of heart I decide. This is no game. This is the real deal, or maybe I’m not as pain tolerant as I thought.

These thoughts swirl through my head as I gasp, whine, whimper, and moan out number after number until finally, I reach fifteen.

I feel like I’ve run a marathon and come in the first place when I hear her blow out the candle.

The bed shifts as she sits on it.

My skin is bright red I’m sure. I can feel the wax cooling and hardening. I have no idea how we’re going to get it off of me, and almost as if reading my mind my fuck buddy says “Lay there and be still. I’m going to get the wax off of you but I’m going to use my knife. Is that okay?” I feel like melting into a puddle- this time because of how carefully and sweetly she takes control and tells me what to do. I’m nothing but a pool of submissiveness as I nod.

Slowly she peels off each drop of wax. The knife is cool against my skin and honestly, it feels like heaven.

When she’s all finished she rubs my skin, soothing and calming it. Soon my restraints are coming off one by one, and I sit up. I expect to feel tenderness everywhere the wax had hit. However, I felt nothing but the ghost of the cool knife.

I look down and shake my heads.

Wax splatters against the white linen. My poor sheets need some TLC.