True Sex Stories: Beautiful Fire

I looked up over my shoulder and he was standing on my left, the fire wand in his hand.  In my view, it was covering the lower half of his face so I could see the fire...

Only once before have I witnessed a fireplay scene.  It was early on in my journey and I remember watching, mesmerized.  Not only at the fire top, but the bottom who was squirming and twisting under the flames.  I remember thinking how beautiful it looked against the dark room, the writhing of the submissive and the dance like movement of the top chasing the flames with his hands.  The scene itself drew my focus away from my own scene, and I found myself attracted to that energy.

I have always had a strange fascination with fire.  A fear, but yet a respect for it.  The way it can destroy so much, but yet the simple way that it dances upon itself looking almost delicate and dainty.  Yes, there has always been a fascination with fire and for no real reason other than I can recognize the beauty in strength.

My first fireplay scene was that same way.  Fear and respect.  Gentle and ferocious.  Fireplay is a dance.  It's the ultimate energy play, and I have learned that.  After negotiations were made to do a fireplay scene with Sir Redemption I sort of let the idea drift back into my periphery.  I had no real knowledge about it other than what I have learned (but never really made a scene out of) and that one night, watching the submissive and top dancing in the dark.

I was lying on the table, after a good warm up that included spankings and an orgasm or two.  I had already had a decent scene with Sir with the violet wand and we had spend a good portion of the evening kissing and making connection.  We already knew before this that something was happening between us- there was no denying that.  It was something we felt in our first few conversations and the first time we saw each other it was just that much more evident.

I looked up over my shoulder and he was standing on my left, the fire wand in his hand.  In my view, it was covering the lower half of his face so I could see the fire, and then his eyes.  He was staring down at me intently, the flame burning the fuel on the wand.  He asked me, "Are you ready?"

I lowered my head back down on the table and waited.  At first the licks of fire were warm on my skin.  Just swipes across my back.  The licking fire dancing over my skin and then Sir Redemption's hands smoothing over my skin.  The heat from the flames, then his hands.  My body was already warmed up and tingly after the orgasms so the sensation of the fire licking across my skin was complimented by his touch.  As my skin started to heat up, the intensity of the flame increased, the heat on my skin.  I listened to him answering some questions of people in the room and then it got very quiet.

Without warning I felt what I can only describe as an "Indian Burn" type feeling on my back.  It was unexpected and caused me to scream into the table.  It was the firecup, suctioning on to my skin.  It burned, while the skin pulled up into the glass.  This lasted about 45 seconds, and then just felt like warm pressure.  Then the other one, on the other side and lower on my back.  In between the cups, he would run the fire wand over my skin.  Between the cups, up my legs.  Each time I squirmed and jumped and gasped under the power of it.

When he grabbed one of the cups and dragged it across my skin, it was that Indian Burn again.  I screamed into the air and when he was done he stroked my skin, telling me what a good girl I am.  How proud of me he was.  All the things I wanted to hear.  The pressure in different areas of my back started to feel like there was just one layer of suction covering my whole back.  It felt good, and torturous at the same time.  I wanted to stretch and move into it.  The fire felt like it was dancing under that layer.

There were people around that were asking questions and while it didn't bother me, it somewhat pulled me from the intensity.  I think he sensed this as at this moment, he upped the intensity.  He turned to the people watching and said, "Now there's two ways to remove these cups.  The nice way or the evil way."

He explained the nice way, which is to pry your finger under the cup, releasing the suction and gently lifting.  The evil way, which of course I already knew…. was just to yank them off.  He asked, "Nice or Evil pumpkin?"

I love how he threw ‘pumpkin' in there just to sugar coat it.

Now I considered doing it the nice way, but I didn't want to wimp out now.  I wanted to feel all that could be felt, so I said, "Evil."

"goood girrrrrrl" he said.

And in one violent move, he pulled one off of my back.  I screamed out- envisioning blood spurting from everywhere.  He immediately put his hand over the area.  Applying pressure.  Warmth.  Connection.  Then the next one came off.  and then two at a time.  I continued to scream, and then moan into the sensation.  It was amazing and the endorphins were dripping from my sweaty skin.  He leaned down to kiss me, pulling my head to the side and connecting with my lips.  The energy flowed between us in our kiss and I wished for a moment that nobody was there.

"Turn over, baby girl.  We're gonna do your front."

Doing the front felt faster and more intense.  He warmed up my breasts by pinching and squeezing them.  Rough breast play is a favorite of mine, and he thoroughly enjoyed himself.  When he lit the wand, he held it up and looked down at me.  The intensity in his eyes was piercing.  He was so deep in his zone and when the fire wand licked down the center of my breasts, I arched my back, almost pulling it to me.  I closed my eyes and felt the fire dancing over my skin- letting my body and my voice move as necessary.  He anticipated and counter my moves.  Touching me with his hands, with the fire, with his mouth on my skin.  My skin was tingling with sensation and I was so deep into my headspace that everyone else disappeared.

It's in these moments where I wonder about my masochism.  I don't ever consider myself a masochist, but a sensualist and an energy player- but there are times that the energy and the sensation comes in the form of pain.  And I want it, and I don't want it to stop, or slow down.  There have been times with partners in the past that I would fall deep into that space and for fear of my top slowing down or misreading my breathing… I would ask, "Please beat me."

I was in that space now.  My breathing was fast, my body was somewhat writing.  I was swimming in want.

He picked up another fire cup and prepared it slowly.  His eyes connected with mine.  My eyes whispering to him, "do it…"

he placed it over my nipple and I screamed out.  It was divine and excruciating.  He quickly did the other one so that burning feeling was happening on both breasts at the same time.  The suction, and the reaction from my skin…. it felt like the let down from breast feeding.  I said this out loud and got some laughs from the crowd.  He then applied to more cups on each breast, on the outer and insides of the nipple.  Now it felt like pumping- and well, there were times that the whole lactating thing was sexual for me- so I melted into this pain now.  I thought of the sensation and intense feminine power of lactation.  Judge me all you want to- I stand  by this.

He took the fire wand to my skin again.  Thumping the wand on my inner thighs watching my naked body move below him.  All I wanted at this point was for him to climb on top of me and fuck me.  The whole room was warm and thick with sweat and energy.  There was just a small crowd now- and I felt so alive and empowered.

Sir Redemption leaned over my body, holding on to the cups on the outside and said "Nice or Evil"

I didn't want to speak.  I didn't want to shatter my space.  I wanted to hurt.  I wanted sensation.  I wanted to take the pain from him.  Accept it and give it to him with my screams.  He was waiting for me to answer.  "Evil" I growled at him…

He yanked them off the insides of my breasts.  Then pressing on the skin- squeezing the tender flesh and milking the screams out of me.  He put his hands on the ones over my nipples now.

They were on fire.  He pushed the cups into my breasts and I screamed into my mouth while he kissed me.  "Nice of Evil?"  Fuck…. I could barely breathe.  I could barely think straight.  The whole room felt like it was on fire around us.  My whole body was lost in this moment.  I could feel my skin.  I could feel my hair. I knew this was going to hurt, but I wanted it.  I wanted the pain.  I wanted to hurt for him because he was exposing my soul and… "just do it…." I whispered.  Exasperated.

I don't remember if he pulled them off one at a time or at the same time.  I want to say the same time.  I don't remember- I just remember screaming- deep primal screams .  I remember that feeling of the fire he applied to my body, being yanked from my skin.  I remember his hands on my breasts and the feeling of crying without tears.  I was raw.   I opened my eyes, unaware that they were even closed and I looked at him.  That intense gaze.  The warm smile.

"Beautiful girl…" he whispered.

Republished with permission from Bad Bad Girl. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.