Not Safe for Work(69)

In the first room, two Doms were caning a bound, gagged women. Red welts crisscrossed her ass, and tears streamed down her face, and her eyes… Lord, that woman was flying. The cane hit her flesh with a snap, and she whimpered around the ball gag, her eyes sliding closed for a second. When they reopened, they were even more distant than before.

“Someone enjoys pain,” I whispered to Rick.

Mesmerized, he nodded. “Yeah, she does.”

I was about to make another comment, but a small group on the other side of the room caught my eye. “Oh, look at that.” I gestured toward them. “You ever watched someone doing hot wax?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “No.”

“You want to?”

He nodded, but quickly added, “If you do.”

I kissed his cheek. “I do.”

We joined the thin crowd that had gathered to watch. In front of us, another female sub was on her knees and stretched across what looked like an ottoman, though it had been covered in towels.

On a small table next to her was a pile of white candles and a steaming Crock-Pot, in which the Dom was stirring the melted wax with a ladle. They’d shrouded the Crock-Pot in some sort of drape—presumably something fire-retardant—so it looked a bit less like something from Grandma’s kitchen, but I doubted anyone was looking at it anyway. Not with a beautiful woman with pristine skin that was just waiting for the molten wax.

When he was apparently satisfied that the liquid was the right consistency, the Dom lifted the ladle from the pot. He held it over the sub’s back, turned it, and let a single string of wax fall.

It dropped straight down. It hit the sub’s shoulder.

And she screamed.

Every sadist in the room squirmed. The subs did too, and the ones who’d had wax before were obvious—they either winced like they knew exactly what it felt like, or they damn near started drooling as they watched the Dom drizzle the molten liquid across the whimpering woman’s back.

Against the wall, a good-looking guy around my age was watching intently, arms folded across his mostly bare chest, leather pants barely containing one hell of an erection. One boot was pressed flat against the wall, and the woman on her knees had his full attention.

She glanced up at one point, making eye contact with him. He smiled, dipping his chin in the slightest of nods, and she smiled too before another drizzle of hot wax forced another cry out of her. He’d probably have to carry her out of here when this was over, and soothe and cuddle her for hours to keep her from crashing when she came out of subspace, but I couldn’t imagine a Dom who would protest that. And when she was back on terra firma, he’d likely reward her handsomely for pleasing the other Dom as well as she obviously was right then.

I shifted my weight.

“You all right?” Rick asked.

“Oh yes.” I licked my lips. Whispering so softly, only he would be able to hear me, I asked, “Is that what you want?”

He fixed his gaze on the woman and the wax. “Yes. Please.”

“Didn’t realize you were that into pain.”

“It’s not… It’s not the pain.”

“Then…?”

Before he could speak, the woman cried out again, pulling against her bindings, and we both exhaled. I wasn’t even sure if Rick had the slightest inkling of attraction to women, but the scene clearly held his attention as much as it held mine.

He swallowed and kept his focus on the Dom pouring wax on the whimpering sub. “Pain’s fun, but something like that requires so much trust. It’s the same reason I’d be into breath play if it wasn’t so dangerous.” He turned his head toward me. “It’s not the pain. It’s the trust it takes to let someone cause that kind of pain.”

I rested my hand on the small of his back. “So, giving someone permission to do something that could cause an injury, but trusting that they won’t.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

I glanced at the Dom against the wall. The one with the ladle. The sub. The one against the wall again. “Would you trust me enough to—”

“Yes.” He licked his lips. “Completely.”

I held his gaze. My pulse was going crazy now, my body temperature skyrocketing, and not just because of my leather pants. I had a beautiful, willing submissive with me—what the hell were we doing watching someone else?

“Let’s go.” I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “We’re going to find a private area so I can put you on your knees.”

His Adam’s apple jumped. “L-lead the way…”

As we went looking for a room, I said, “You really do want to try the wax, don’t you?”

He blinked a few times like he was struggling to focus. “Y-yes.”

“You have any idea how much it turns me on to imagine you all covered in wax while I’m f*cking you?”

A heavy breath rushed out of his parted lips, and he whispered, “Oh God.”

I barely kept myself from shivering. Melted wax all over that beautiful back? The sounds he’d make? The way he’d be trembling and struggling to hold himself up?

Oh yes. We had to do this. Soon.

But for tonight…

All the rooms with locks on the doors turned out to be occupied, but we found a semiprivate one that a group had just finished using. It was open, so people could come and go, but not quite as exposed as the one where the wax and caning scenes had been going on.