Hallowed Convictions

The very last candle had snubbed out, there had been five burning dazzling bright, but that was hours ago. Now she still lay sprawled out on her back on the bed. Her wrists daintily bound tight with a length of red lace, the ends intricately woven betwixt the wrought iron bars of the head board like the artwork of an arachnid. Her hair, reddish in hue, was knotted twisted and snarled. The once perfect manicured hair and make-up lay in ruin. Smudged mascara left black blue shadows beneath her vivid green eyes. A necklace of fine delicate bruises laid around her neck, the scratches over both breasts and down her the line of her stomach. No rhyme or reason to the pattern that lay across the white canvas of her flesh. Her legs tied spread apart, not fully splayed, though with narrow chain around each ankle, the tiny links would clash together and the rampant sound of tinkling metal filled her ears. The ends secured by small locks holding the chains wrapped tightly around the wrought iron foot board. The smell of candle smoke was heavy almost like a blanket as it layered her lungs, making her eyes burn and water again.

He had come to her, his face masked in shadows, twisted to a horrid maw of sinister delusions. She wore her own mask of fear as he neared her, he slide the cold shaft of tallow up and down her inner thighs, and against her exposed engorged slit, and slowly slipped it into her cunt. In and out he did slowly watching the dark tapered candle disappear into the wet hole. He yanked it out of her with a grunt she swore he even ventured a lick of the warmed waxen shaft, and dug his hand into his pocket pulling out a lighter, he lit the wick. The now lit candle in his right hand he bore it towards her allowing the wax to melt and pool. And suddenly he twisted his wrist without a word or explanation. The hot wax splattered against her cool exposed belly first, sending an arcing sting, which made her back arch with a will all of its own making her breasts bulge and bounce. She squealed in pain as he continued a path of splattered hot wax up her stomach, and then droplets straight onto each hard dark nipple, standing erect at attention, whether from fear or pleasure. Her body writhed, roiled almost snake like within her bounds, she thrashed her head side to side. Blackish red wax splattered almost like congealed blood on her body, the nipples encrusted heavily as he seemed to take a sick turn of pleasure of coating the harden nibs with many layers. The hot rain of wax made her eyes well up, run freely as she fought to give him further satisfaction of her suffering, her lower lip quivered, and her eyes narrow and full of anger. Black riverlets narrow ran down her blushed cheeks as her eye welled and teared over, glossy wide green eyes stared through him to his very wretched soul. His left hand came across her right cheek like a stinging blow from out of now where, a hiss in the semi-darkness.

…Turn your head away bitch…

That same left hand tugged violently at her hair leaving a few strands twisted around his hand as he shoved her face into the pillows. And then the room spun and all was dark her as throat constricted tightly his hand around her slender throat.

Down her inner thighs bite marks, not the kind of love nips one would expect, but a few with incisors indent into the soft sensitive alabaster flesh. As he nipped at her exposed sides, she screamed loud, full out; white light in her eyes made it almost unbearable to face any more. She could feel the pinched flesh rolled in his teeth; she swore she would pass out; but she did not. In fear she had wet herself, the pain too much to bear as she screeched out, fighting the bounds that held her inert. Now the blankets and mattress cold and wet against her bare ass. He had done things to her that should have him locked up behind bars. He prodded her with the cold steel of his belt pushing it into her hot wet folds, letting the cold metal score icily down the inside of her wet cunt. She had cried then, begging him almost to stop……….