[ad_1]

Day 5:

You started this day in bed. Your hands handcuffed around the metal bed rail above you. Your legs were also tied aside, each ankle assigned its own rail. You had nothing to cover you, not for the past couple of nights. You haven’t been able to sleep properly either- only getting to close your eyes for a few naps before waking up to your hand cuffs rattling against the bed. Why has this happened, I hear you ask? Well, for that, we have to take ourselves back to day 2.

The first time you were touched by him. The way his hands moved around your body, like they not only owned you- but knew you. Knew exactly which parts were sensitive, which parts to pull or push down. That was all you could think about that night, and the feeling of wanting more. He left you there after only having cum once- what were you supposed to do? It was his mistake for leaving your hands free that night. You took the chance to touch, to give yourself that pleasure that he denied you. You must have been there for a few minutes before the door slammed open.

“What do you think you’re doing slut?” He bellows, charging towards you with thunderous force. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to release, so you kept going, racing him. But he was too quick. He pulled off your blanket and grabbed you by the wrist. His nails were digging into your skin. “Answer me!” He yells with rage in his eyes.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t!” You reply, trying to pull your arm away from him. Your strength was nothing against his; he quickly handcuffs you to the bed rail.

“You are not allowed to do this without permission! You fucking whore. Just because I made you feel something earlier does not mean you do it in your own time. You disgust me!” He scolds, his hand now over your pussy. “Don’t you fucking worry, I know exactly how to teach you!” He then spanked your clit with his bare hand. You were already sensitive, and this just made it worse. He kept going, again and again. You wondered he would make you bleed, but all it did was make you throb. You whimpered when he pressed down and looked into your eyes. “This is what happens. Now you can deal with it. Your throbbing clit while you try to sleep. Your hands can’t do anything about it- and I know I won’t be touching you after this. You do not deserve it.”  

His last words were not wrong, that was the last time you felt his personal touch. On day 3 he walked in and whipped you 100 times on your clit or tits- forcing you to keep count and starting again when you forgot. On day 4, he pushed in a vibrator that he controlled. He oscillated between different settings. Some were fast, some were slow, others pulsed. Every time a vibrator would die, he would just replace it. It went on for the whole day. By the end of it your pussy was dripping, the bed was soaked by a puddle of your wetness and your cheeks were coated in a gloss made from your tears. You begged and you begged for it to stop, for him to give you some release. You even called him sir, just how he likes it and still, he refused to let you cum. It was futile. You made a mistake that night and now you were paying for it. He left you that night, vowing that he still wouldn’t touch you. Out of all the things he said, that may have been the worst. You missed his soft tone and the feeling of his fingers stroking against your cheek. You missed the way he made you shiver from just running his hand down your spine.

Now it was day 5, and you lay there in bed- cold. Maybe today he would come in and untie you. Or at the very least graze his hand over your body. That was when the door slammed open. “Wakey Wakey Slut!” he said, just as he would on a training day. Your eyes light up as you look to him longingly, maybe your punishment was over!

“How are you feeling slut?” He says with a smile, towering over you as he inspects your body. Noticing the goose bumps on your skin and the gentle shivers.

“I’m c…c…cold sir…” You reply reluctantly, it was the truth though. You spent all night like this, you needed warmth. Your whole body felt numb, and your extremities were starting to throb in pain.

“Cold? Perfect! I have just the thing to warm you up.” He says, your mind racing with thoughts of what it could be. Was he gonna give you a blanket? The soft one you had wrapped around your naked body a few days ago? Was he gonna bring you a heater? Or maybe… just maybe… he would untie you and pick you up- sitting you in his lap- and cuddling you until you were warm. What you would give to be in his embrace. You hear his footsteps grow quiet as he walks away before stopping somewhere in the unviewable distance. The next thing you see is a glow, an orange glow on the ceiling. You hear his footsteps again, growing louder as they approach you. You lift your head up to see what it was. Your eyes now fixed on the darkness from where he was to emerge. You see the orange glow against his face, the light forcing his hazelnut eyes to shine. Shine with wicked intent or sweet honey. The source of that orange glow was in his hand- a candle. A long one at that.

“You wanted warmth slut? Here you are.” He says with a smirk. He holds the candle high above your chest before tilting it. Your eyes lock onto the droplet of hot wax that fell like a raindrop. You had so little time to prepare, but the moment it hit your skin- “Ah!” You scream out, your body arching in reaction- making a perfect bridge. It felt like a part of the sun was dropped against your skin. You were numb all over but this, this forced out feeling.

You take a deep breath in preparation again, your body slowly relaxing and lying flat. You pant a little as your eyes widen watching the flame of the candle dance in the air. It danced so innocently, no care at all that its liquid wax was drying on your skin.

“Still cold my slut?” He asks with the softest voice you’ve heard so far. You couldn’t help but be honest, his tone a trap, luring you in like the jingle of an ice cream van. You nod, not speaking a single word hoping to provoke him into slapping you across the cheek like he at all times would when you didn’t use your words. He did not. He just tilted the candle again- slowly. This time a droplet turned into a stream. It hit on the top of your chest, trailing down between your tits and stomach- stopping at the belly button. “Speak slut!” He yelled over your helpless cries, the feeling so intense that you pulled your handcuffs hard against the metal- almost bending them. “I’m still cold sir!” You yell out as he reaches your belly button.

You pant as the feeling stops, the burning on the centre of your just subsiding. “Please sir… please… no more…” you pant out, pleading. The sting as the wax dried on you running through your body. Each breath felt like you were waxing- peeling the dry wax involuntarily. “But you said you were cold? Were you lying to me slut? Is that another thing I need to train out of you?” He says, his voice becoming serious. “I didn’t realise you were so problematic. You want to touch without permission and now you’re lying to me? You really are the most pathetic slut I’ve trained.” He pauses, letting the wax create up, letting it visibly pool on the candle. The candle itself was red, and it contrasted perfectly against your skin. The red wax decorated your body like a medieval tag of shame. You looked down and whimpered, he didn’t look like he would stop.

“I think we need to do something about your tits. Look at those nipples! They’re rock hard because it’s so cold- let’s give them some warmth.” He says kneeling down a little, so the candle was as close to your nipple as feasible. The flame was flickering so close you could feel the heat against your skin. “Deep breath slut.” He smirks. The moment your chest rises, making your tits boost up, a droplet hits one. It was the smallest drop against the most sensitive part of you. “Aahhhhhh!” You yell out, losing all that breath you had inside. “Silence slut!” He says placing another droplet on the other tit. You yell in just as much agony, you arch with just as much intent to escape. But he would not stop. You couldn’t follow his orders- you had once again failed.

Your eyes squeeze out tears, rolling down the side of your face as the pain just doesn’t stop. He continues to pour wax around your nipples, the feeling still so intense that you cannot stop screaming. “Please stop! Please stop! I’m warm! I’m warm! Please… sir… please…” you beg, only to hear laughing from him as he stands the candle upright. It was on three quarters of the length than when you started. “You’re so good when you beg. Ugh. Listen to your voice! So desperate. So needy! Why can’t you be like that all the time.” He remarks moving the candle to the top centre of your chest. Hovering it there.

“Now slut- listen carefully.” He says with stern eyes, looking down into yours. “I’m going to tilt this candle and keep moving down… I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied with your apology.” He pauses for a moment as he watches your eyes narrow in fear. You knew exactly where this was going. There was still one part of you that was untouched. One part that was the most sensitive of them all hadn’t been struck with hot red wax. Your clit. You knew how painful it was on your tits- your clit would be unimaginable. You squeak out involuntarily, a wave of fear rippling through your body. You subconsciously begin to squirm in your bondage. Your bottom lip quivering.

“3, 2, 1.” He counts.

The moment 1 leaves his lips, your eyes shoot to the red liquid pouring through the air. You watch carefully, tensing your whole body as it drops against your already covered skin. It wasn’t as bad since you had a layer of wax already there, but it didn’t stop you from wincing as the heat burrowed through. “I’m sorry.” You say softly, almost inaudible.

“Louder.” He says, moving the wax down more and more each time. It wasn’t long before it crossed over your belly button, started to hit against new bare skin. This is when the intense pain came back- “Oh fuck! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You say quickly as he starts to get closer and closer to your clit. The skin becoming more and more sensitive as he does. “Not good enough. You clearly don’t mean it slut!” He says moving down again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You plead, whining at the end as the pain becomes unbearable. Your eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“You think those tears are going to help me accept your apology? Fucking pathetic! It’s like you’re enjoying the pain you twisted slut. Now try again! Like you mean it before I burn your clit!” He shouts, anger in his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” You yell, arching your back and screaming as you feel a single drop mere millimetres away from your clit. You hear a growl from him as well, one that pierced through you like a dart. You instantly lay back down and wondered about all that you had done. “I’m sorry sir.” You cry. “I’m sorry I touched without permission. I’m sorry sir. I’m sorry sir!”

“Better.” He says instantly pulling the candle up and blowing it out above you. “That’s how you apologise like a good slut.” He says walking away. You hear his footsteps move back into the darkness before the door opens and closes again. He left. Leaving you all alone. Once again, another day without his touch. Another day without his comfort. He just made you feel pain like never before, using techniques you never dreamed of. He left you tied to the bed, unable to soothe yourself with anything other than tears, for another day. You looked down as you panted for breath, your vision blurry from the tears that leaked from your eyes. But it was clear to you, the red wax covering that had dried on your skin- the red wax covering that showed and reminded you how bad you had been. The red wax covering that made the words echo in your head- the words that you pleaded with- your apology. However, it wasn’t the burning sensation, or the slow pull of wax peeling off your body that bothered you. It was something simpler. Something forbidden. Right now, you wanted his touch. His gentle touch across your cheek as he called you a good slut. His gentle touch across your wrists as he untied you. The gentle touch of his lips as he kissed you goodnight, reminding you that you were his.

NSFW: yes

[ad_2]