Date: Mon, 22 Oct 2007 02:50:09 EDT
From: EddyRiha@aol.com
Subject: games with stefan 23

The usual disclaimers apply.  This is a work of fiction, and those folks
who are prevented from reading such fictional works either by age, by moral
preference, or by law should not read any further.

All of the characters presented here are fictional representations,
including the narrator.  Some of the events and characters are inspired by
actual events and people I encountered in my younger days, but the
presentation here of events and characters in no way is meant to portray
actual, historical persons and events.  It's just a story.

All stunts were performed by professionals.  Do not attempt these at home.

This chapter involves a scene involving hot wax.  PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT
THIS!  I do not know whether in real life this would be a pleasant
experience, but in the imagined world of these stories, certain adventures
may happen that would not-and possibly should not-occur in our real world.
In other words, this is a work of fiction, not an account of personal
experience.

Thank you again to all the readers for the encouragement and the
constructive criticism you have provided as I continue to develop this
story.

No Eastern European poets were harmed in the writing or reading of this
story.

If anyone is offended by the premise of the story, or by explicit sexual
acts, please do not read any further.  Why, indeed, have you read this far?


Games With Stefan

by eddyriha

Chapter #23-Weekend at My House (Part 14)

After falling asleep on the living room floor, while watching a DVD, my
left wrist tied to Stefan's right, the next thing I knew, it was morning,
and Stefan's mouth was sucking on my morning boner.

I didn't let him know I was awake, and with my eyes only open a slit, I
watched the boy as he eagerly pumped his mouth up and down on my swollen
cock, his saliva the lubricant, his hunger the motivation.  The morning
sunlight peeping around the edges of the living room curtains gave me
enough light to see Stefan's dark hair as it hung over his forehead and
brushed gently against my belly as he gave his attention to serving my
cock.

And then I knew I was going to come.  I reached up and caught his head as
it pumped down, holding it in place as I shot wad after wad into his mouth.
I could feel his tongue sliding against the underside of my cock as he
swallowed the cum as quickly as he could.

We lay there in that position for a few minutes, me on my back on the
living room floor with Stefan's head buried in my crotch, our two wrists
still bound together as I'd tied them the evening before.

After awhile, I sat up and then stood to my feet, my boy at my side.
"Let's go shower," I said.  It was already a hot and humid morning, and I
didn't feel much like doing anything too strenuous.  The day before had
been so wild and exciting that I wasn't sure that today, the last full day
that Stefan would be staying at my house as a fuck slave, could possibly
top yesterday.  But there was always hope. . . .

As soon as we were wet, I began soaping up Stefan's body, from his face to
his neck, to his chest, to his back, to his shaved cock and balls, to his
ass (oh, how I wanted to fuck it right then and there!), to his slender
thighs, to his even slimmer calves, to his ankles and his feet.  I also wet
his hair and shampooed it; there were still bits of leaf and twig from
yesterday's adventure in the woods caught here and there in his thick dark
locks.  When I had finished soaping him, then he rinsed off, before he
began to soap me all over, following the same pattern.

When we finished, we stood a few minutes in the shower, allowing the water
to drizzle all over us.  It felt so soothing, compared to the stifling heat
we'd have to face all day.  Then I shut off the shower, had Stefan towel me
down, after which I toweled him, too, paying particular attention to his
cock and balls, his little boytool standing erect as if to salute me for my
devotion to it.

I snapped the dog collar around his neck and, holding the leash, I led him,
crawling on his hands and knees, downstairs, where I gave him his breakfast
in the same water and food bowls our cat uses.  I left him there, limited
in his movement by the leash I'd tied to the piano leg, while I went
upstairs and poured myself some cereal and ate it.

When I was finished, I came back downstairs to find Stefan finishing his
breakfast, licking up all the bits of food that had fallen onto the tile
floor.  I ruffled his hair, still damp from the shower, and said, "Good
slave."  He looked up and smiled.  "Now it's time to have some fun," I
said.  I showed him the ropes I'd brought from upstairs.  Then I motioned
to the piano bench.  "Lie down, belly up."

He obeyed, and though he wasn't a particularly tall boy, he barely fit
across the length of the bench.

I took each ankle in turn and tied it to an end leg of the bench, pulling
him down so that his knees bent somewhat.  I then tied each wrist to a leg
at the opposite end of the bench.  This kept him motionless and exposed his
face, chest, belly, and cock to me.

Then I squeezed some baby lotion onto his belly, at which he gasped because
it was a little cold on his skin.  He squirmed playfully as I rubbed the
lotion all over his body, the parts exposed to me.  He was becoming more
aroused, but after briefly rubbing the lotion onto his cock and balls, I
ignored them, despite all his efforts to bring them to my attention.  He
didn't realize that I was covering him in lotion so my new game wouldn't
hurt quite as much.

I then picked up the other things I'd brought down with me: a red
apple-scented pillar candle and a book of matches.  Stefan's eyes opened
wide: this was a new game, something we'd never done before.  He seemed to
be torn, whether to protest or to accept this new adventure.

"This will feel strange," I said.  "Let me know if it hurts.  But I'll try
not to make it hurt too much."

I lit the candle and allowed it a moment or two to develop a full flame.
The wax began to build up in the hollowed top end, around the wick, as the
candle had been burned a few times already.  In moments, the whole room was
filled with the scent of fresh, ripe apples.  As Stefan closed his eyes and
inhaled deeply the apple scent, I tipped the candle over him.  A small
trickle of wax seeped over the lip of the candle and dribbled down onto his
stomach, right across his belly button.

Immediately, he sucked his stomach in and opened his eyes.  "What's that?"
he exclaimed.

I didn't say anything.  I just dribbled some wax along the inside of his
left thigh.  He sucked in his breath again.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"A little, but not too much.  It's kinda warm at first, but not much."

The baby lotion was working as I'd hoped it would.  I dribbled some more
wax across his other thigh, along the inside of both calves, on the tops of
both feet.  Across his toes.  (I couldn't reach the soles of his feet
because of how I'd tied him to the piano bench.)  Then back up to his
belly, dribbling streaks of red wax across his navel, along the bottom edge
of his ribs, around each nipple, along his collarbone, around his neck and
throat.  Slowly, my fuckslave was becoming spattered in red wax.  Around
the wax, his skin was reddened a little, but nothing to worry about.  He
had become used to the sensation, yet when I turned the candle toward his
erect cock, he said, "Please, sir!"

"OK, if you want it," I replied, dripping a couple drops of wax onto the
tip of his cock.

Stefan pulled back his hips as much as he could, as if anticipating pain,
but the bench kept him from pulling back any distance, and it turned out
not to hurt.  At least not the way he expected.  He smiled a little and
nodded, when I made like I was going to drip some more wax there.

I dripped wax around the base of his shaft, then up along the under side,
which was toward me, since he was quite erect.  He wriggled a little as the
wax warmed his cock, but he kept smiling.  So I dropped a little on his
balls.  At this point, his eyes opened wide, and his whole body tensed.  It
was a little too warm there, so I moved my hand and dripped some wax into
his navel.  He relaxed and smiled again, closing his eyes.

In a few moments, he was entirely spattered with wax from his chin to his
toes.  Then I untied his limbs, but brushed his hand aside when he went to
peel off some of the wax.  "Not yet," I said.

Then I had him lie down on his stomach on the piano bench.  I tied each
wrist and ankle down to a corner leg, stretching his body out so I had full
access to his back and his ass.

I repeated the process, first rubbing baby oil all over his back and ass,
as well as the back of his legs.  Then I dripped red wax all over him.
Across his shoulders, down his spine, across his waist, along the dimples
of each asscheek, down the backs of his legs, in the hollows of his knees,
on his heels, up and down the soles of his feet.  Except for some twitching
when he felt the warmth on his soles, he lay there, his eyes closed,
allowing me to do whatever I wanted to his naked body.  And I wanted to do
so much more. . . .

I pried apart his asscheeks with one hand, while the other held the candle
at an angle.  Stefan instinctively stiffened, as he knew what I was doing
but didn't know how it would feel.  To be honest, I didn't have any more of
an idea than he did.  This was my first time waxing my fuckslave.  It was
all a new discovery for both of us.

The wax dripped slowly into the boy's ass crack.  I tilted the candle
further, and some wax made it all the way to his spincter, which was still
a little sore from the weekend of intense fucking.  When he felt the warmth
on the sore flesh, he yelped, and I immediately righted the candle.

"It's OK," I said as I cleaned off the newest wax.  I leaned over and
kissed him on the cheek.  "It's OK, buddy."

He relaxed, and I finished up by dripping some wax across his neck, just
below his hairline.  I ruffled his hair and kissed his neck.  "Good boy," I
whispered in his ear.  "You obeyed me well."

The sight of Stefan bound to the piano bench, wax on his bare skin, which
was still slicked with baby oil, had my dick begging for immediate release.
So I straddled the bench, poured a little baby oil into his ass crack, and
worked it in with a finger, then two.  He kept his eyes closed, knowing
what was coming next.  I leaned over his back. placing my weight over his
whole body, and slowly slid my cock into his lubed hole.  The bench creaked
a little as it absorbed our combined weight, and I gave Stefan a moment to
adjust to the sensation of being sandwiched between my body and the hard,
polished wood of the bench.

Then I began to fuck him, my cock pushing down into his open hole, which
relaxed around the shaft like a welcome friend.  I gripped the two end legs
of the bench, just below where the boy's wrists were tied, and I steadied
myself that way as I pushed in and pulled back, with each thrust feeling
anew the boy's warmth surround my cock.  He was moaning softly, almost a
whisper, and I could sense he was erect, approaching the height of
sensation in his own cock, which was wedged between his body and the smooth
surface of the bench.  His hole tightened as his sensations peaked, and
that extra pressure caused me to shoot my load suddenly, without warning,
into the boy's ass.

When I had finished, I lay there a few minutes, breathing in the mixed
scent of my boy, the baby oil, and the apple-scented candle whose wax
covered Stefan's body.  I could feel his heart beating loudly as I lay
against his back.  His eyes were closed, a smile on his face.  For that
moment, at least, we were both in heaven.