I opened the door. Mick walked in trailing a girl.
"I come bearing gifts: libation and decoration," he said handing me the bottle and nodding at the girl.
He clapped me on the back.
"Happy holidays, Bro."
"Back at ya."
"This is Shelly."
"Hi."
"Hello, Shelly."
"Man! Something smells good."
"Bird will be out in about an hour. Just have to do a bit of last minute decorating."
We were in the kitchen. I unwrapped the bottle. Vodka. Some obscure name I'd never heard of, much less pronounce. I splashed a couple of shots into glasses, we tossed them back, then I poured a couple of doubles on the rocks.
"Good stuff."
What was I supposed to say? Vodka is vodka to me. But the girl was another matter.
A 10. A totally fake 10, but a 10.
Her hair was a shade of platinum blonde not found in nature. She had a perky little upturned nose, full, pouty lips, arched eyebrows that made it look like she was amused, perfect white teeth. Her skin was alabaster. I'd never seen alabaster, but that was the word that popped into my head. Her face was doll-smooth, not a wrinkle to be found.
She wore a green minidress that covered next to nothing. Her tits were high and firm and perfectly round. Fake, of course. Probably had implants in her ass, too.
But that was Mick. Some guys like to customize their cars; Mick likes to customize his girls. And he's good at it. The girl probably got 5k a throw and that's just vanilla. I didn't want to think of what it would cost for anything "special". Probably set me back a month's pay to do what we were going to do tonight.
We stepped into the dining room.
"Lose the dress."
The girl blinked at Mick.
"The dress, lose it, strip."
Shelly stripped. Didn't take long since all she had on was the dress and a thong.
I patted the table.
"Up here."
She looked at the bundles of rope.
"What-"
Mick held is finger to his lips.
"Sh. Decorations should be seen and not heard."
She climbed up onto the table.
I picked up the candle gag. Basically a bullet-shaped candle about eight inches long. I'd melted a hole about two inches from the base and threaded a length of decorative chord.
"Open."
I pushed the butt end into her mouth, tied the cord behind her neck.
"On your back."
I maneuvered her around a bit to get her centered on the table. I grabbed a bundle of chord and proceeded to tie her right wrist to her upper arm.
The chord was a festive blend of red, white, and green. The candles were red. The centerpiece was a circle of holiday foliage trailing off in tendrils. Another red candle occupied its center.
I tied her left wrist, then tied her ankles to her thighs I positioned her feet, sole to sole, spreading her wide. She had puffy outer lips. The inner were like flower petals, pink and delicate. Her hole gaped and I fought the urge to do a little exploring.
I took the pan off the warmer on the sideboard, stuck a finger in.
"It's on the hot side of warm, but not all that hot."
Shelly said nothing. I positioned her hand, palm up, and poured on a ladle of wax. She flinched, but just a bit.
"Keep your hand palm up."
I set a stubby candle in the pool of wax in her hand. I did the same with her other hand. I splashed some wax on her perfect tits and nestle two more candles on them. I finished with her mound - another puddle of wax, another candle.
I used the ladle to drizzle wax over the candles, creating little rivulets that ran down the sides and dribbled across her skin.
I started with her mouth, kept dripping wax until her lips were totally sealed to the candle, little streams of wax running down her cheeks and chin. Her hands got the same treatment as did her tits.
She lay quietly, but flinched again when the wax found her pussy lips. I got a bit artistic, filling the gap between inner and outer without covering them. I didn't fill her hole.
I stepped into the kitchen, set the pan on the counter. When I came back, Mick had placed the centerpiece on Shelly's tummy and was busy lighting candles. I dimmed the lights.
"Excellent! Looks like she's been here for hours the way you dripped the wax on the candles."
The clock chimed.
"Still have time before dinner, let's catch the end of the game."
"Who have you got?"
"Detroit by 14."
Mick barked out a laugh, patted me on the back. "What a loser. Have I taught you nothing?"
Later ...
"I called Ma. She said Irene's about ready to pop out another kid."
We were sitting at the table, me at the head, Mick at the more interesting end. The candles had started to drip on their own, the wax hotter than what I'd used. Every once in a while a fresh stream would find a bit of tender flash and Shelly would gasp. I'd left most of her pussy uncovered for a reason.
"Yeah, she told me. Think he'll stick around?"
"Who? Daddy du jour?" Mick shrugged.
It was a typical holiday. Good food, wine, family, sharing news, retelling the same old stories.
The candles had burnt down to the point where I had to blow a couple out. Shelly lay under a thick layer of wax dribbling from her mouth, hands, tits, and pussy. I found the view entertaining.
Later she would provide entertainment of a more animated nature, but for now I was content with my centerpiece.
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14.12.11 | updated - 07.05.17