8
8
Melting Point
Part 2
by Yoni Steele
Melting
Point © Yoni Steele, 2002 HotYoni496@yahoo.com
Having a climax without permission is most assuredly against Mistress Shannon’s rules. But that one was worth it. She knew what she was doing to me, but that didn’t stop her from twisting my mind by overstimulating my sexual center. And now I am being punished.
Of course I have to be properly disciplined. While in the midst of my mind-numbing orgasm, I fell over, collapsing against the shelf of candles. The cascade that destroyed all four shelves was as inevitable as my bodily response to the most intense orgasm I have ever and probably will ever have.
Mistress Shannon believes that the punishment should fit the crime. When you break a bunch of candles, it is hard to imagine how you can be punished appropriately. But she found a way.
My maid’s uniform is gone. No dress, no stockings, no shoes, no frilly apron, no corset. Well, that latter isn’t completely true. She replaced the lovely leather one with one made of stiff canvas. It’s even more heavily boned than the training corset, and it is smaller. But that was possible because I had spent so many hours in the other corset. My torso was “trained” to accept a smaller size. Now it feels as though I am being sliced in two by the narrow “wasp” waist of the punishment corset.
My bondage is much more severe and uncomfortable. I am bound only with rope now, and it digs into my skin everywhere. The corset is supplemented with numerous coils of cotton rope digging into my exquisitely curvaceous waist; the rope serves as an anchor point for some of my other fetters. The leather breast harness was replaced with an elaborate series of rope loops. Since the rope coils are pulled much more tightly, my boobs look bigger than ever as they stick out in front of my body. They almost look as though they are a part of something other than me! The rope loops closest to my chest seem to disappear into my soft flesh, but the numerous extra loops that extend outward from there painfully squeeze my tits and support them rigidly. My impression of them is that the rope makes the base of my boobs look like the stiff, shockingly narrow stalk of a mushroom while the top is a bulbous, purple cap.
A wooden dowel separates the two big orbs, pushing them wickedly away from each other. Mistress screwed eyehooks directly through my nipple piercings and into the ends of the wooden rod. It hurt a lot as the eyehooks are quite a bit bigger than any rings that I have ever worn through the piercings. The sharp threads of the screws hurt terribly as they cut into and twisted the skin. But I must admit that it looks quite interesting. Rope is threaded through the eyeholes and tied off behind my back; I groaned as Mistress pulled the rope taut before tying it off. The result is that my boobs have really been flattened and distorted against the stiff rope windings at the base visually enhancing the mushroom metaphor. The pressure on my boobs is truly awful, and the ends of the dowel dig deeply into the flesh next to my nipples. It is definitely one of her most devious bindings.
My arms have been rendered quite useless. My hands are in fingerless mittens and have been pulled up the center of my back, crossing in an ‘X’ high up between my shoulders. The ropes that hold them there are pulled over my shoulders and anchored to another screw eye in the center of the dowel between my boobs, which creates an additional pressure and upward pull on my tits and poor nips.
I am suspended by a rope that crosses under my armpits and goes up to a pulley over my head. It hurts a lot for now, but I suppose that that is what I deserve for damaging my beloved Mistress’ property. Additional ropes criss-cross above and below and between my boobs and around my arms locking them into pathetic immobility.
My legs are painfully bent around a stiff bar embedded in the inside crook of my knees to keep them spread far apart from each other and leave me completely exposed where it matters most. The thighs are tightly roped to the calves; they almost look like short stumps that had been amputated at the knee, except for the feet that stick up against the cheeks of my ass. My big toes are tied to each other with thin cord and anchored to the waist rope behind my back. That feels especially confining for some reason.
My old friends are still buried inside the appropriate holes. I feel like I desperately need to take a crap, but there isn’t much that I can do about that now. The pressure in my abdomen is awful, but I’ll just have to deal with it, I guess. At least I got to go pee. It wasn’t that Mistress let me; I just let it all out when I climaxed in her dungeon. Fortunately, neither vibrator is turned on right now. Mistress wants me to experience the pain of this punishment; she doesn’t want pleasure to interfere with that.
Since my pussy was the primary source of my transgression, she felt that it was necessary to directly castigate that part of my anatomy. Deviously, she used several strands of her own long hair to tie loops around the base of my clitty. This was especially painful as both my labia and clitty have been enlarged for Mistress Shannon’s – and my -- enjoyment. Because of their enhanced size, they are much more sensitive and responsive to the wicked torments (such as clips, bites, pinches, scratches, and bindings) which she loves to administer down there. I didn’t know that it was possible for that little organ to hurt that much. When she pulled those hair loops tight, I was certain that she was going to slice my clit right off! I am certain that I whimpered too loudly when she did that.
Much to my surprise, despite my whimpers, my loving Mistress licked and sucked on my clit until I was ready to come. I could feel the blood pulsing down there, filling up my clit to make it grow even more. It was so delicious; my whimpers turned to moans of sexual excitement. I made small chirps with each short breath of delight. I cried when she suddenly stopped. I was so close; my whole body was on fire, but there was nothing that I could do about it. Then she whipped my swollen vaginal lips and clitty with that nasty pussy whip she keeps hooked to her belt. It is hard to believe that a whip that small and soft could deliver so much pure torment. Despite the very direct stimulation of my sex pistol, I didn’t climax. Even though she made it very difficult for me, I made sure that I didn’t climax through a combination of mental concentration and relaxation. She would have been angry if I climaxed again.
But now I am not quite sure what I will do as she has looped a strong rope back and forth through my crotch and anal crack several times. She obviously doesn’t want me to lose those precious plugs. And she made sure that the rope slipped between my labia to hold me open and on either side of my engorged clit so that it would be tightly pinched as the rope was yanked tight, twisted, and cinched.
Through it all, I wanted to tell Mistress Shannon how much I love her, but that has been denied to me as I am muzzled with a large, stiff ball gag. There is a hole in the center of the ball, and a tube is connected to hole. The tube is secured about a meter above my head to the suspension cable. In addition, the rope head harness is tied backwards to my original breast rope, forcing me to tilt my head backwards in an unnatural, uncomfortable way.
The bar that forces my knees apart is also connected by a strong cable to a pulley as my shoulders are, but that pulley is down below me. The result is that I am stretched quite taut. The extreme rope bondage and the canvas corset will keep me quite motionless for this final torment. I can only wonder how long it will last.
I truly, deeply love and adore my beautiful Mistress Shannon, and I know that she loves me, too. When she punishes me, it is to help me learn and grow. For that reason, I treasure all her punishments, no matter how harsh and stringent they are. This is going to be particularly intolerable, but I will prove to her that I am worthy of her love; I will endure this for her.
Since I broke candles -- so very many candles, Mistress is going to turn me into a giant candle, a ruby red one. I don’t know where she got so much wax, but it fills a very large barrel beneath me. By using two pulleys she will guarantee that I am held taut while I am pulled completely into the hot liquid. Then she can pull me out again just as they did in earlier times when they made candles by dipping repeatedly. I don’t know how many times that she will immerse me, but at least I will be able to breathe through the tube while in the vat.
Aeyieeeee! There is no adequate description of the shock of being dipped bodily into scorching wax. I suppose that my Mistress thought she was being funny when she jerked the pulleys back and forth without actually pulling me out of the molten pool. My excessively tormented boobs felt as though they were on fire when they came in contact with the hot liquid. The heat is unbearable, but feeling the wax ooze into all of my crevices is quite a weird sensation. My eyes had been taped shut so they were protected from the hot liquid, but nothing else was. Getting wax in your nose is only superficially like getting water up your nose. It is a rather awful feeling, in fact. Your nose is the most sensitive part of your body when it comes to heat, you know, so it feels like you are being scalded on the bottom of your septum even if you are not! Hot wax flowing into your ears, by contrast, is not much different from hot water. It is just about as fluid as water, so it flows in as easily, just as if you were submerged in a swimming pool except that it is so much hotter!
Remarkably, I could even feel the wax seeping into the rope on my body. In particular, I felt the temperature rise at the base of my tits and in my crotch and anal crack as the ropes became soaked with the hot liquid. Of course, the shock of splashing hot wax on a recently abused pussy is probably the most awful aspect of the whole thing. Pinched and exposed as it is, my clit received the worst punishment. It hurt miserably. And even though my eyes were sealed, I know that some tears seeped out. I am certain that my scream came out the top of the breathing tube, no doubt bringing a soft tear of sympathy to my Mistress but also a twinkle of glee to her bewitching brown eyes.
Mistress Shannon pulled me slowly up out of the stew pot. As some of the cherry liquid ran down my body, cooling quickly because of a trio of judiciously placed fans, I felt like a giant fondue. And I wanted so much to be eaten by My sexy Imperatrix.
The feeling of wax cooling and hardening on your skin is quite interesting. You actually feel sealed, which can’t really be described. And the wax shrinks a bit as it cools, so you also feel like you are being gently squeezed. I can’t shake my head, of course, because my ears are directly tied with fine line to needles that had been directly inserted into the swollen flesh of my nipples, so I can’t eliminate the puddles of molten wax in them as I would water from a pool or tub. The consequence is far more significant because once it hardens in my ear, I won’t ever be able to shake it out. And so goes a fraction of my hearing. It is noticeable after only a single dunk in the molten wax. Some of the wax drained from my nose, but I could tell by a single, strained breath through my nostrils that that’s already become a more difficult thing to do.
I am especially in tune with the solidifying of the wax on my boobs, labia and clit. As a liquid becomes a solid, it gives up heat energy; and those places are particularly sensitive to things like that, especially as they are under more stress than any other part of my body. The pain I felt while submerged in the barrel of liquid wax was unspeakably intense on those abundantly sensitive parts (stretching of a lady’s breasts – and other parts – via size enhancement implants makes them much more sensitive to touch and heat), but there was also a feeling of deep remorse flooding through me because I had done something to upset my beloved Mistress.
Now the sensation of the wax hardening is as metaphysical as it is simply physical. The solidification of the liquid wax around my organs is a physical encasement of my most precious parts, but it also seems to be sealing a barrier between Mistress Shannon and me that can never be breached. I have attained Nirvana, and there is no way that she can relate to that. In a way, that put me above her, and that is undeniably intolerable to her. I suppose that the strangest sensation is feeling the wax crack on my chest with each breath. I want as much of the stuff as possible to break off so I tried to inhale deeply, but I can’t. Apparently, the breathing tube is equipped with only a small hole to prevent me from doing just that.
Dunk number two didn’t seem quite as hot. It is interesting that the first layer has already provided some protection against the heat of the second dip. The second plunge was also much faster. I shouldn’t have been surprised by that. If I was left in for too long, the wax that had already hardened on my body would melt off. Breathing through my nose has already become impossible; the wax seems to have lined my nostrils to a considerable depth. I’m not entirely used to breathing only through a tube and accidentally inhaled while inside the barrel. My nasal passages were flooded with hot wax, but fortunately my nostrils clamped shut reflexively because of the heat. Otherwise, the liquid might have flowed into my lungs. But the damage has been done: my nose is now completely sealed. Additionally, I can tell that my hearing is slightly more reduced.
My breasts and nipples feel as though they are already encased completely, but I obviously can’t tell that for sure as I can’t see anything. The pain in my crotch was only slightly less than it had been the first time. My clit and pussy were directly splashed with the molten wax again with only the previous coat for protection. As sensitive as they are, that is little more than a useless veil.
My limbs are already stiff from their cramped, contorted positions, so I am trying to move them a little bit to relieve the pain; unfortunately, it isn’t working. However, I know that I won’t have that limited freedom for very long. Only a few more immersions in the soup will probably be enough for them to become too coated to move. I am surprised that my hands are completely coated with wax, though, as they are in enclosed in sacks. Apparently, the fingerless mittens must be completely porous to the liquid, so my hands will be rendered useless just about as fast as every other part of my body. The new layer seems to have sealed the cracked wax on my chest, as well as made it slightly thicker.
: : :
I think that was the sixth dip; my fingers and toes are oddly unbendable, and my breathing is quite shallow. I could barely detect the change in temperature caused by that submersion as I am already quite hot in my wax skin; in addition, the wax coating seems to be thick enough to provide considerable insulation against the heat of the molten bath. I wonder how many more dunks I will have to endure before Mistress Shannon is satisfied with my punishment and breaks me out of my wax shell. It would be fun to keep the shell as a souvenir of this special torment that she has devised just for me. Mmmm. I wonder if my beloved realizes that this is making me blaze with lust, too. The hot wax on my boobs and down below has me burning inside as well as outside! I’m not sure how much more of this I’ll be able to endure without climaxing again. But I know that she doesn’t want me to come without permission. After all, that is one of the reasons why she is doing this to me.
My only regret is that I can’t see what I look like. I hope that Mistress is recording this with a video or still camera so I can see how I looked later when she releases me. I probably look more like a big piece of cherry or strawberry candy rather than a candle.
: : :
Was that the eleventh or twelfth dunking? The thirteenth? I’m really losing track, and I urgently have to pee again. My mind and body are floating into a new dimension of sexual heat that I had never even dreamt of before; it’s strangely disorienting. I can barely tell that I am being dunked any more. Only the pressure in my armpits and in the crook of my knees changed, but the sensations were considerably dulled that time compared to the first few dunkings because of all the other feelings flowing through me. I truly feel as though I’m being compressed into a smaller person as the wax hardens around me in ever thickening layers. I wouldn’t be surprised if the cocoon is at least a couple of centimeters thick already.
In the beginning there was a faint glow of daylight leaking through my eyelids and the transparent tape over them, but now there is only a blackness that is more total than anything I’ve ever known. The only sound is that of my own breathing and the blood pounding in my brain. My ears are completely plugged now, and I know that extracting all of that stuff that is so deeply cemented into my ears is going to be an awful experience later. And my nose must be filled all the way down to my throat. I can’t imagine how I’ll ever use it to breathe again! Even my mouth is partially filled with wax; Mistress Shannon is going to have a devil of a time removing that dildo gag because my lips are totally potted from the outside all the way in to my teeth! At least my eyes were protected from that awful hot bath. Such fiendish isolation from reality! I know this is already doing strange things to my mind, but there is nothing that I can do about it. Only Mistress can set me free.
No part of me is movable any more. My arms and legs are throbbing from the cramps, but I can’t shift them even a millimeter. My fingers and toes are entombed in a rigid case so hard that I can’t wiggle them at all. This is a level of constraint that is so far beyond anything that I have ever thought about. Mistress is so clever. Mmm, my head feels weird. Oh, my god! My hair! How will I ever get this stuff out of my hair??? The curls are probably all plastered together into a single, solid, sculptured pony tail! Oh, Mistress, I am so much more helpless and vulnerable than I have ever been. You have proven irrevocably how much I belong to you. Only you would have thought to show me by encasing me so entirely. I am an absolute and total captive to your whims, my darling. I hadn’t realized that just the thought of being so wholly under your control, so utterly dependent upon you would make me feel so hot! Oh, shit! I’m going to cummmmmm…..!!!
: : :
How long did I sleep? I can’t guess. Time has no meaning in my private world. I wonder if she dipped me again. Probably. I wonder how many more times. Somehow I actually feel even more trapped and confined now than I did before my climax. There is no sound, no sight, no smell. The absolute silence and blackness are overwhelming …and frightening. Instead, my thoughts are filled with the virtual sound of my loving Goddess’ voice; visions of her beautiful, lithe body and her sweet face dance before my eyes as though she is actually there; the smell of her Obsession perfume is so real; and I can feel the tickle of her long, soft hair on my shoulders and the gentle stroke of her fingers on my breasts and pussy, soothing the pain in my swollen orbs and my pulsing clit.
But it is all unreal. I am entombed in a shell of unbreakable ruby-colored wax. Every pore, crack, and crevice of my body is sealed. Every cell of skin on my body is screaming for release, but the only release that I have had so far is of my bladder. I can feel the heat of the liquid inside my chrysalis, but it is the trapped heat of my own body that is truly overpowering. I can feel nothing else. Nothing but pain as my muscles are all cramped and strained. My waist feels as though it is locked in a vice. My pussy and asshole are in agony from being stretched so much and for so long. Oddly, my nipples ache with a strange mixture of pain and lust, but I can’t feel my breasts any more; somehow my nips have become disembodied, and yet still connected. The same is true for my throbbing clit. It hurts so intensively, and yet it feels soooo good. And my last tangible link to the world outside my cocoon is also gone; I can’t even make any noise any more as the wax is solid around my throat, rendering even my voice box useless.
Wait. Do I feel something? Yes! Both vibrators are buzzing away at a low level. It is gradually becoming more intense. Mmm, how wonderful! Ohhh! Now the sensations are dimming; the humming seems to be decreasing within me. …And now it is getting stronger again. Mercy, Mistress, they are see-sawing. Not always both at the same time. How long has this been going on? Is it seconds? …minutes? …hours? I can’t tell, but the dimming and growing continues ad infinitum. The pussy plug is playing its merciless games again, but it’s much weaker than before.
This is far worse than the torment in the dungeon; it is worse than I anything that I could ever have imagined. The feeble stimulation is making my pussy hot, but it won’t make me boil. Unless there is a major change I truly will go insane. I know that this will never bring me to a climax like the last one that I experienced in the dungeon, the one that I shouldn’t have had. The last one that I had a little while ago (was it only a little while ago or hours ago? …was it even real? …or did I just imagine it?), was nothing more than a sweet tease, and it has only left me craving much more. Oh, shit! She wants me to suffer and die of total frustration: yearning, hungering desperately for another climax that will never come! And I will do it while in total, absolute isolation from the real world, from her world. She has cut me off from everything other than pain and apparently random, hopelessly inadequate sexual stimulus. A person can’t survive without feeling those other sensations. The brain doesn’t know what to do with nothing!
It’s ironic, but that thought
actually turns me on, Mistress. The idea that you might actually
want me to break down from understimulation is itself so erotic that it
makes me quiver inside; but it’s all wrong! You are supposed to give
me a chance to make it up to you. Dammit, I can’t survive without
another climax! This isn’t fair, Mistress. I am scared.
I’m very scared. The pathetic, weak tingle in my pussy is going to
drive me crazy with desire, but I will never get close to a climax like
this. Please tell me what I must do to make you happy again.
Mistress, please…
04.11.02