Black As My Soul

A Little Wax

Flower was playing with fire—we bought a perfumed-oil warmer recently and it arrived today. It came with a small tester of oil which we liked and so we put a little in the reservoir and lit a tea light beneath.

After the oil evaporated, Flower started playing with the lit tea light candle. Before long, she was dripping wax on her hand and peeling it off

She caught me watching her.

Seizing the moment, I told her to lay on her back.

And for the first time, experimented with dripping wax on bare skin. Watching how it pools or drips. How it hardens and layers.

It was really hot to see her react to each drip. I love surprising her with variations. This is what I love about being in control. Playing with expectation: setting it and breaking it. Regardless of how Flower feels, that's what gets me off.

And it was super hot to see the white wax hardened all over her skin.

It was just one tea light. It was a tease, a warm up, an hors d'oeuvre.

But delicious enough that we began looking for more candles.

I Had Never Spanked Her Pussy Before

I was fairly certain she wanted to be spanked.

But not like that.

Laying next to her in bed, I had gripped her throat and felt her pulse beneath my fingers. I watched her body release tension. I watched her become pliable. I watched her give in.

After that, I had bitten her neck, torso and thighs. Because I love to bite.

Then, because I had always wondered what it would be like, I began to spank her pussy.

Watching her face was priceless. I was absolutely rapt as I watched her expression change again and again.

It was polar. She was angry. It hurt. She loved it. It hurt.

She made really cute irritated noises.

She clearly didn't want me to do it anymore.

And she really wanted me to keep going.

When she closed her legs tightly, I spread them again. I took special care to hold them open for a few moments before resuming. I didn't say a word.

Sometimes it looked as though she might come.

Sometimes it looked like she was going to lash out in anger.

And I spanked her pussy more.

Later, I kneeled and held her legs up against my torso with one arm. I spanked her bottom with my free hand.

When she shielded herself, I simply stopped and told her to put her hand down.

She complied, and I continued

When she covered herself a second time, I stopped and told her to put her hand down.

She did.

And I spanked her more.

She covered her face with a pillow and began to sob softly.

She never asked me to stop. She never used her safe word.

When I was finished, I pulled her close and petted her.

I told her she was my good girl.

My very good girl.

It took her a long time to process what happened. When we talked about it a few days later, she told me she felt it was the first time that I really had taken what I wanted.

She said it was the first time she had fully felt surrender.

I think it was the night I became a dom.

A Kiss Is Just a Kiss

I slide one hand up your neck into your hair at the back of your head. Slowly, I do the same with the other hand. Then, first with one hand, then the other, I grab hold of your hair holding tight, pulling. I listen to the way you breathe. I know you feel it. Your soft whimpers say, "No…" and "Yes…" I turn your face to mine to look you in the eyes. I lean close and speak simply, "Kiss me." Your expression changes a hundred times. You struggle against my grip but I have held you fast. Your breath is more halting now. You utter a short cry. A short wimper. Looking into your eyes again, I try to hold your gaze—but you do not want me to see. I lower my voice. Speaking sternly, I say "Kiss me."