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By.:LicentiousLiber

I tightened the ropes around his wrists, relishing his moans.

This was something unexpected, him begging me to dominate him. The man who claimed to be wary of submission, commitment, and dependence was now tethered spread-eagled to the bed.

I was quite pleased with myself for getting this far, now I just had to make the fantasy come true and go over smoothly… Since he wanted to try wax play in addition to light fire-cupping, I went downstairs and gathered every candle we kept in the house: the petite votive, the tall and skinny tapers, and the short, fat pillars. I set these in a basket I used for gardening after I’d placed a fresh cloth over the wicker bottom and went into the kitchen, grabbing two shot glasses with pictures of Marilyn Monroe and JFK on the frosted glass exterior and went back upstairs to where my boyfriend lay in a combination of anxiousness and exhilaration because his fantasy was finally coming true.

I walked over to the nightstand next to the bed, set the candles and shot glasses down. Then I went into the bathroom and came back out with a lighter, cotton balls, a bowl of water, and bottle of rubbing alcohol. I set these down on the nightstand and lit all of the candles and allowed them to melt the wax for a few moments before picking up a votive and holding it over him.

That’s when everything went wrong…

Instead of pouring the wax in a slow, erotic fashion, I got extremely nervous and poured the wax far too quickly. What was supposed to be a trickle was a downpour and successfully marred the comforter beneath his quivering body. He never took his eyes off mine as I followed the central puddle on his torso and watched it split into fast moving streaks. Then I tried to redeem myself with the fire cupping which was an even bigger disaster due to my nerves. I realized I forgot the tongs with which to hold the cotton ball while I dipped it in the alcohol and lit it on fire, so I rushed back downstairs cursing all the way, grabbed the tongs from the kitchen counter and leaped up the stairs into the bedroom where my boyfriend was chortling ceaselessly.

“ I’m so sorry! I was so nervous, normally it’s you who dominates me. I’ve fucked up your fantasy and perfection.” I exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about it, just flip me over and fire cup me. I hated the comforter anyway but didn’t know how to tell you politely.”

I untied him and he turned over onto his stomach where I began to mark his back with x’s in the place where I would place the shot glasses after I’d swabbed them inside with the alcohol-soaked lit cotton ball. Lit the cotton ball, swabbed it on the inside of the glass and extinguished it in the bowl of water. I quickly placed the shot glass on his back and waited for the suction to occur.

It did not, so I doused another cotton ball with alcohol and lit it while holding it at a slight slant. Just enough to catch fire more. Just enough to start to burn my fingers.  I dropped it and muttered expletives because it caught the carpet on fire and branded the nightstand. We both rushed into the bathroom and completely forgot about the bowl of water, searching for a bigger container for putting more water in. We found the mop bucket beneath the sink, turned the shower on to fill it up and rushed back out to find my Doc Johnson “Jelly Cock” immersed in flames on my nightstand. I started to scream because I forgot to put it away the night before and it was now a melted pool of dark pink due to my shocked inaction of about two minutes that was oozing onto the carpet.

We dumped water on the pink puddle and onto the carpet, dousing the flames just as the smoke alarm started to go off.

We stared at each other and at the charred remains of our bedroom and my beloved sex toy and began to laugh until our sides ached. I almost fell onto the floor, but my boyfriend steadied me and said,

“ Let’s go out for flambé instead of trying to make it ourselves next time.”

 

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