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 breasts 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 hips 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 climax 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.

  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 fuck 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 breasts, 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 clit 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 pussy.

  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 breasts. 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.

 

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