Page 86 of Lost to the Woods

I don’t even give her a chance to deny it. I tilt the candle further, dragging it down the length of her quivering belly. Thewax splatters, spreading over her ribs, her stomach, filling the dips between her curves.

She sobs, squirming against the bindings, her body glowing under the soft flicker of candlelight.

I let my free hand wander up her body, dragging across her belly, her chest, the ruined, wax-slicked peaks of her perfect, trembling tits. Then back down again.

“Baby, look at yourself,” I murmur, reaching out to stroke her hip, the wax still warm against my fingertips. “Terrified. Trembling. So fucking perfect.” I trail the candle lower, just to the top of her thigh.

She freezes. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps. I can hear her heart pounding.

“Oh, Bunny,” I hum, my tone almost mocking. “You know where this is going, don’t you?”

Her thighs quiver and she tries to clamp them shut, but I’ve kept her spread just for this.

Just like I kept her lovely pink pussy untouched so she can feel all of it at once.

I tip the candle, and the wax falls directly over her inner thigh. She mewls, tugging against the restraints, but I don’t stop.

I keep pouring, watching it coat her delicate skin, pooling dangerously close to where she’s already soaking wet and pulsing with need.

I let it cool for a moment, admiring the way it clings to her. My gloved hand brushes against the wax, pressing down lightly, feeling the heat radiate from her skin.

“You’re burning for me,” I rasp in a thick voice.

Her shuddering whimper only makes my cock throb harder. I bring the candle lower and hover just above her bared, trembling little pussy.

Her breath hitches, and she shakes her head, frantic. “No!”

I tip the candle anyway.

The first drop lands directly on her swollen clit, peeking between her puffy lips.

She shrieks, her entire body seizing up, her voice breaking into sharp, choked cries.

I keep pouring, slow and precise, watching as the wax coats her like a second skin—from her silky smooth mound, pretty pink folds, down to the crack of her ass where the butt plug still rests flush.

She writhes, moaning loudly, her body convulsing under the onslaught of sensation—pain and pleasure, heat and cold, too much and not enough.

I let the wax cool for a moment before slapping between her legs, crushing the pieces away and revealing her flushed, swollen cunt. It glistens in the candlelight, contracting around nothing.

What a horny little nympho.

I hum in satisfaction, dragging my leather-clad fingers through her slit, feeling how soaked she is. “You’re dripping like a whore.” I lean into her, inhaling her scent through my mask. “I fucking love it.”

Her breath hitches as I press my thumb to her aching clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the oversensitive bud.

“It turns you on to be used like this,” I whisper, voice dark and low. “To be forced against your will, to push your boundaries to the limits. Doesn’t it?”

She whimpers, shaking her head, but I can feel the way her hips twitch forward, the way she grinds against my hand, needy and weak.

I smile to myself. “This is how it’s always going to be. You’re mine now. My perfect little toy,” I murmur, my fingers dipping lower.

She shudders violently, a broken sob catching in her throat as I slide two fingers inside her.

Deep. Slow. Unstoppable.

She’s sobbing. Writhing. Humiliated and helpless, yet still desperate. Her cunt clenches so tight around my fingers, as if begging me for more before her pride can stop her.

A rough, choked laugh scrapes up from my chest like it’s burning its way out. “You were made for this,” I croon, thrusting deeper, curling my fingers, and pressing against that sensitive, aching little spot inside her.

---