By His Reputation Ch. 01

In a moment, a wicked grin passed over his face and she felt exquisite searing heat against her skin. He had taken a candle from his night stand and started to slowly drip wax onto her body. The wax touched her exposed arms each, and started to trail down before hardening and cooling, only to have the fluid sting her again, pouring out onto her tender pale flesh. Slowing his thrusting, he lifted her dress higherand poured a thicker amount on her breasts. Her body shook with pleasure and pain, not sure which was which anymore and not caring. The wax melted against her body and pooled on her chest and on her belly. She watched the candle with bated anticipation, looking up at his hands, her eyes wide and her lips parted as she started panting like a dog in heat. He thrust deeper into her, holding fully inside her and poured the wax right on one of her nipples as she writhed against the smooth heat. And again, the heat dripped onto her and she lost all control.

An orgasm that shook her world and rendered her nigh catatonic jolted through her, lighting her spine on fire as her mind went completely blank. She could barely feel his cock dominating her. She couldn't feel the pain or the pleasure as wax fell onto her belly flowing from her nipples as her skin stained with the wax, a gift from him. Her pussy gushed, soaking her lover -- her man. And her brain fired like a Christmas tree lit up, unable to handle the sensations.

She slowly came back, looking at her lover with adoration and admiration. Enthrallment at his treatment of her, she became aware of his speed increasing. His face tensed and his eyes locked with hers, controlling her gaze as she could look nowhere else. The candle had dripped down her so much, shaken by each deep thrust; her belly was streaked with white wax. And she loved it. She could feel it hot on her skin until it slowly cooled. She could feel his cock swell inside of her, his heavy balls, full of what was now the only thing she wanted, smacked against her with this increased pace. She could feel his abs tense. And she loved it all. She loved that he didn't bother to ask her about protection. About being safe. She loved that she could feel the bare ridge under his head with each powerful thrust. And she loved the sound of her own voice as she stared back into her eyes, not daring to break contact. She realized it was too late as she said "do it" in the soft whisper of a starving woman.

His body slammed into her one more time. He growled animalistic, primal, and it was too late for either of them. Her tight slit gripped him tightly as his cock erupted. She could feel it splash inside her, coating her and flooding her with warm wet fluid and for the last time she lost her mind. She screamed as she orgasmed. Her mind floated above her body and she heard herself begging him to do it. To fill her. To use her. She called herself a slut, HIS slut. She called him Master. She cried for his seed as rope after rope of thick cream fired against her, filling her in a way she had never had before and never wanted to be without again. She strained against her ropes, she longed to wrap her legs around him and pull him close and never let him out. Her body shook with a mind-bending spasm as her lover tensed and growled deeply, roaring with rage and lust into the early morning light.

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After an eternity of a minute, the lovers slowed. Drenched in sweat, they kissed deeply. His lust exhausted and satiated by her. Her body satisfied beyond any recollection of ever. She leaned her head against his. "Hold me," she said softly. He deftly undid the simple knots on each of her wrists. She held him tightly, stroking his damp hair, touching his face, exploring his back, almost tickling his sides. They held each other, both slowly returning to reality. He pulls out and she gasps at the soft sensation. She tries to sit up and groans painfully, realizing how sore she was already. Her pussy would need a week to recover, but she wasn't sure she agreed with that.

He moved carefully, flipping the limp ropes away. Gently pulling the wet sundress off her body, leaving it on the floor for now, with the rest of the pointless garments he had disposed of. The ropes around her ankles were untied and she lay back with a happy expression on her face. But he startled her by lifting her suddenly and carrying her, like a bride over the threshold, towards the bathroom down the hall. He grinned at her "could you help with the door?" and she smiled, still in his arms -- she opens the door and looked with a gracious expression at the bathtub. He carefully sat her inside of it, the warm water soon flowing and filling the tub, touching her skin. Alexander rested beside her, stroking her hair, touching her neck softly.

With loving hands, the wax is washed away and thrown to the side and bruises around her hips, wrists, and ankles are touched, kissed, and soothed by this man. He was so powerful...but now so soft. Not a word is exchanged in the long minutes as he gently washes her hair and her skin. Her sore pussy was still holding his cum, soothed by a soft cloth and the warm tub. They gently touch each other, her resting in the warm water, attended by his ministrations until her body was sufficiently clean.

When she looks up at the clock, she is shocked to see she had been there for two and a half hours. "It's a really good thing I don't work on weekends, you know. I really need to call my friend. She's going to want to know everything."

"You do that. And I'll wash your clothes, alright? Make yourself comfortable," he said as he went to retrieve her clothing and her purse, long forgotten on the floor of the bedroom.

She sat up and smiled widely. She couldn't believe what she had done, and it felt so good to have pleased this man. Her smile lit up the room as he closed the door behind him, leaving her to close her eyes in the water.