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Wax Play

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He lay on the bed, eyes closed, breathing deeply. Even if he had opened his eyes he wouldn’t be able to see anything - he’d been blindfolded. The plastic sheet beneath him was cold and not entirely comfortable - it also tended to rustle if he moved. But it was worth it to make the clean up easier.

There was an oil burner going in the corner of the room. He wasn’t entirely sure what they’d put in - something herby, relaxing. Lavender, maybe? Rose? Every time he breathed he got a lungful of it. He wondered where they’d got it from.

He was sure that they were still in the room, but he couldn’t hear them. Right now they weren’t talking and the music drifting about the room - something classical-ish, but nothing he recognised - covered the soft sounds of their clothes rustling when they moved or the light fall of their footsteps.

He couldn’t help but feel a touch apprehensive. Oh sure, this was what he’d wanted. But he didn’t know exactly what to expect, and part of him was fighting giving up control. He wanted to give it up, he did. Being in charge all the time was exhausting. He wanted to just relax and let someone else run the show for a bit, do all the thinking and all the work. And yet, it was harder to surrender his power to someone else than he had thought it would be.

“Breathe, Kirk,” Nyota’s sultry voice sounded in his ear, her breath fluttering the short golden wisps of his hair and tickling his skin. He hadn’t realised she was so close to him. “Don’t tense up on us now. Just lie back and let us take care of you, okay?”

He swallowed, his throat dry. “Okay,” he agreed, croakily.

“Remember,” Nyota told him, her voice becoming more distant. “This is for you. This is your space. We won’t let anything happen here that you don’t want.”

“Okay,” he said again, his voice sounding a little more normal. He shivered, but it was with excitement more than trepidation at the unexpected touch of her hand, her fingers trailing like white-hot silk over the skin of his thigh as she walked away.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, exhaled slowly through his mouth, rolling his shoulders and willed the last of his tension to slip away. “I’m ready whenever you guys are,” he announced to the room at large.

The ice cold drip of water on his nipple was immediate, and slightly unexpected, leaving him gasping. He had expected heat, not cold. He shuddered as a fingertip - just the right mix of gentle and firm - touched him, began drawing circles around his cold, pebbled nipple, leaving the skin shivering and overly sensitive in its wake.

On his other side a small yet strong hand - had to be Nyota, which meant it was Spock playing with his nipple - smoothed something warm over his ribcage. It was confusing, hot on one side cold on the other, leaving him feeling a little disoriented, guessing, on his toes.

He wasn’t given much time to find his feet - metaphorically speaking - before he was hissing and arching his back at the hot drip of wax where the ice water had been. The sudden contrast on the already sensitised skin was - intense. That was the only word to describe it.

“Not too hot, Jim?” Spock’s deep, melodious voice came from right above him as he lay panting. “No, no,” he gasped out, toes curling against the sheets. “That was good -perfect.” Another shiver trembled through his shoulders and he couldn’t help but wriggle a little with anticipation. “Can you please do it again?”

He could hear the eyebrow that lifted in amusement in Spock’s voice when he replied. “All in good time, Jim.”

A moment later he was gasping and squirming as Nyota dripped a warm, waxy trail over his chest and belly, one careful drop at a time. Her voice was playful, fondly amused as she followed it up with a second trail going in the other direction, from belly to chest, but this time with ice water.

“Do you know how many hours he spent researching this for you, Kirk. He was fascinated. He did experiments down in the science labs to find out which candles burned at just the right temperature. He consulted Dr McCoy to find out if they were any scents or dyes that would give you an allergic reaction. He’s been planning this for weeks. I don’t think he’s going to be rushed.”

Kirk moaned softly as a hot, waxy drop landed on his inner thigh, a brief hot sting followed by a delicious sensation of warmth that had his already half-hard cock twitching. “You - you asked Bones?” the captain panted, unable to help the way his hips lifted up in a silent plea for more. “Oh god. What did he say?”

“I did not inform him that the reason for my inquiry would be … this. Although, I do believe the good doctor may have surmised as such - he did give me a very strange look. At any rate, it was largely irrelevant. Scented candles burn at a higher temperature than plain paraffin - too high to use for risk of scalding you.”

Kirk did not reply, too overcome by the veritable barrage of hot and cold drops that assailed him from both sides following this pronouncement. His whole body arched, head tipped back as far it would go, hands clenched, toes curled, the muscles in his legs and belly straining. Oh, but this was good.

“I think next time we should tie him down,” Nyota mused thoughtfully as they let him have a minute or so break to catch his breath and keep his skin from becoming too sensitive. “We don’t want him to knock a candle over with all this thrashing around.”

The thought of it nearly made Kirk come right then and there.

“So long as he can be released quickly,” Spock was saying. “The thought of Jim being tied down if a fire should start …”

Kirk sighed, letting his mind wander as his two lovers chatted. He was indeed feeling very relaxed, his muscles loose and his body puddled like the waxing cooling on his skin. He was so lucky to have two people so dedicated to giving him pleasure.

He had been hesitant to tell them of his fantasy for a long time. He’d heard about wax play, read about it, even tried dripping a little hot wax on himself during his ‘alone time’ before Spock and Nyota welcomed them into their hearts and their bed, and the very thought of it had always struck a chord somewhere deep, deep inside him, making him all tingly just to think about it. But he’d never actually tried it, and he wasn’t sure how receptive his lovers would be to the idea.

He should have known better than to doubt them.

He vividly remembered the night were he had confessed his fantasy to them. It had been one of those rare, treasured occasions where all three were off duty, sitting talking and relaxing over dinner in Nyota’s quarters. Kirk had maybe had a little drink with his dinner - a shot of Jack and cola, another rare treat - and was feeling pleasantly mellow and then all of a sudden they’d been talking about sexual fantasies.

They were both looking at him encouragingly when Nyota asked the question: “So, what about you, Kirk? Ever had a fantasy? Something you’ve always wanted to try?”

He must have blushed as bright red as a planet because it felt like his face was on fire. And that, of course, had got their attention, and if Spock could be brave enough to admit that he wanted to smother them both in chocolate and then lick it off, well, shouldn’t Kirk be brave enough to admit that he wanted to be smothered too?

Neither of them had ever done it before - either be covered in wax or be the one covering someone else - but both had seemed interested in giving it a try. That had been … what, nearly two months ago now? And Kirk had thought that maybe they’d forgotten, or decided against it, and yes, he had been a little disappointed but such was life. And then tonight, finally another night where all three had time off together he had headed to Spock’s rooms, like the Vulcan had requested he do in a PM at lunch time and lo and behold the room was bedecked with candles! and Spock and Uhura were waiting for him, big smiles on their faces. Well, on Uhura’s anyway. Spock had that ‘I’m not smiling but I am’ look on his face.

He should have known that Spock would want to find out everything he could about the practice first.

And even if they were new at this, they were good. For a long time they stayed away from his crotch, and he didn’t really mind because it turned out the inside of his thighs were so sensitive and he was so, so impossibly turned on. But when that first little drip of wax landed on his balls … Kirk couldn’t hold in his shout. It was so warm and so unexpected, the sting of it so quickly receding to be replaced by shuddering waves of pleasure. Oh god. He wasn’t going to last.

And he didn’t. He wasn’t sure how long they lavished their attention on his groin, sometimes still getting the insides of his thighs. It felt like forever and like no time at all, all at once. He tried to hold on as long as possible, but there was just nothing he could. That feeling of pressure built up and up in the base of his spine until finally it overflowed like a dam bursting, flooding out of him in a great rush of pleasure so intense he was amazed that he hadn’t passed out.

They held him them, one on either side, Spock tenderly removing the blindfold. Though the room was far dimmer than usual, being lit by candlelight and not the normal fluorescents, it still seemed dazzling bright to Kirk’s unused eyes. A blissed out, boneless puddle, he lay quietly between them and let them nuzzle him.

“Jim,” Spock said eventually. “Are you angry that I spoke with Dr McCoy?”

“Hmm?” Kirk asked drowsily. “Bones? No. Worst case he’ll tease me a bit. I’ve never actually, you know, officially told him that we’re all together though - I suppose that might upset him a bit. That’s the sort of thing your best friend should know, right?”

“The thing is,” he turned to look at Nyota she picked up where Spock had left off. “We found something we think we’d like to try - but we’d need more people. If you’re alright with that, of course.”

“Huh?” Kirk tried to sit up, but his boneless body didn’t seem to want to. “How many people? What sort of thing?”

“If you are agreeable, Jim,” Spock’s deep voice reverberated through him. “Nyota greatly desires to use you as a canvas for a wax masterpiece.”

He looked between them, seeing that both their eyes were shining eagerly with anticipation. When they looked at him like that, anything was theirs for the asking.

“Sure, okay,” he agreed. “I’m up for it. Who else do you want in?”

“Oh,” Nyota waved her hand breezily. “We’re going to need everybody. The whole bridge crew. We’re talking about hours worth of work here.”

“Oh.” Kirk smiled gently at Spock as the Vulcan entwined their fingers, giving him a reassuring kiss. “Okay. But if it’s gonna take hours, I get to choose the music, okay?”

Spock raised an eyebrow and Nyota laughed, and Kirk grinned and basked in the feeling of being so loved.

To Be Continued …