Chapter Eleven
Tammy is absolutely perfect. The tears that have wandered over her skin, give her a waxy look. She reminds me of a porcelain doll. I turn to Jasper.
“Can I please have her for my photography? Like… Can you not tear her apart? Or do it after I’m done? Please?”
Her eyes widen in distress, listening to my words and my implication.
“Darling, she’s all yours. I know I ruined the other one; this one is for you.”
I stand on my toes and kiss him. Tammy’s whimpering is our background music; her muffled sounds are the only thing that breaks through the silence that surrounds us.
“Let’s lay her on her back first,” I say, and Jasper picks Tammy up and displays her for me on the metal table.
He watches me expectantly. This is his personal event, sitting front row.
I sway my hips as I circle her, giving him glances as I bite my lower lip.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I grab a candle and light the wick, so the wax can melt.
I made sure to get one made of paraffin wax, as it retains heat longer.
I watch it in a trance, an impatience that lingers inside me, as eagerness takes root. Jasper eyes me curiously.
As the wax starts to pool around the wick, I pick it up and lazily let it drop on her forehead.
Her skin responds instantly to the touch, the wax sealing in her flesh.
Red swelling sets in immediately, and small blisters begin to pop up.
I let fresh wax pour over the sensitive skin, coating her entire forehead.
As it cools down, I warm my palms and begin to mold it, flattening it.
“You will be my personal wax doll, your skin as silken as those in the death photography images that I love so much,” I whisper tenderly.
Tammy’s eyes dart to me, fear widens her pupils; as she follows my every move, while I lock her flesh in.
When I’m done with her face, it has a clear sheen, as if I have plasticized her like meat pressed tight under clear film.
I graze the wax with my fingertips, the surface smooth and peculiarly soft against my pads.
I put the candle aside and light the next one.
With a pair of scissors, I begin to tear her clothes with the sharp edge; at least her top needs to go.
I have something else in mind for that, an authentic blouse I got at an antique store.
I know I will be thrilled about the final result, and in my enthusiasm, I accidentally cut into her left breast.
Her flesh parts, showing the yellow, fatty tissue and blood, begins to swell.
Annoyed, I wipe at it, smearing it all over her skin.
Frustrated with my own action, I spin on my heel and walk away to find a roll of kitchen towels.
Jasper asks if he can help me, but I dismiss him.
I can do this. With a grin, he leans back in his chair, continuing to take in everything I do.
With rough wipes, I try to stop the blood from spilling, and when she’s clean enough, I press part of the soaked paper into her wound to prevent further bleeding.
She lets out a gurgling sound, as if she’s choking.
Pinned to the spot, I watch her, but when I see her throat move as she swallows, I calm down a little.
Her upper body is bare, and her chest moves up and down erratically.
I decide to burn the wound closed first and pick up the candle once more.
Wax pours over her tit. Tears well in her eyes, but due to the hardened layer on her face, the salty water can not leave, and she creates her own ocean of sadness.
I repeat the smoothing of the wax, my hand curving over her breasts.
For some reason, I find it erotic to know I am sealing her body and submitting her to my will.
Forced submission. My doll is to be used as I please.
My prop for creating the ultimate death photography, while she’s still breathing.
I hear Jasper’s clothes rustling as he stands up, and I listen to his footsteps approaching.
My heart begins to pound louder at his close proximity, and I curve my body against his.
My hands glide over her stomach, spreading the wax, and Jasper plants soft kisses on my shoulder, watching my every move.
His hands drift to my hips, and he hooks his fingers into the hem of my jeans, unable to pull them down.
His fingers travel to the front. I slightly tremble in anticipation of what he’s going to do.
I barely breathe as he unbuttons my jeans and zips them down.
His hands are back on my hips, and he peels the fabric down.
“Step out of them,” he orders, and I obey immediately, stepping out of my jeans.
Next is my thong, and my breathing turns ragged.
Teasingly, he swipes his finger between my folds, a glistening residue on the tip.
He licks it clean, and my breath locks in my chest, completely forgetting what I am doing.
Wax drips on my living sculpture as I let it tilt, my gaze fixated on Jasper.
“Focus, Darling.”
When I see what I’m doing, ruining my doll, I mutter a swear and begin to smooth the surface. He sinks to his knees and gets between my thighs.
“Sit down,” he says with a raspy voice.
I look down, and he grins at me.
“Your seat awaits.”
He picks up my legs and positions them on his shoulders, a reversed piggyback as I straddle his face. His mouth covers my vagina, and when his tongue flicks against my clitoris, I let out a gasp. I wriggle, but he tightens his hold on me.
“Get to work, Starling, while I eat you out,” he growls, and my stomach flutters at the words.
With shaky hands, I rub my fingers over the body in front of me, as his tongue teases my entrance.
He groans and enters me, pumping in and out of me.
I whimper at the sensation, dripping the wax over her shoulders.
The blisters that appear all over her skin don’t faze me, as I pour the heated substance all over them.
Tammy makes unintelligible noises, completely lost in her head.
I’m sure she is retreating to a safe space within her mind, sealing herself off from the pain inflicted. The wax must pull at her skin.
I try to lean over so I can work on her shoulders and neck, but I can’t reach them.
Jasper’s tongue takes over my mind, and when he sucks my clit into his mouth, I unravel, my toes curling in delight, as I ride this wave of pleasure.
I grind on his face, drowning him in my arousal, but I don’t care.
Splatters of wax drip on Tammy’s legs as I spasm.
Carefully, he helps me back to the ground, and while I stand on wobbly legs, he gestures to Tammy.
“Keep going, Starling,” he grins. His face is covered in my juices, and I suddenly feel embarrassed. As if he can sense it, he grabs my hips, spins me, and pushes me down, my face close to Tammy’s. He presses my ass against the bulge that’s straining in his cargo pants.
“Don’t you dare feel shy now, all of a sudden. I can eat you for hours, and I’ll never tire of your taste, understand?”
I nod.
“Words, Darling.”
“I-I understand,” I murmur.
“Good girl,” he praises, and I try to clench my thighs, but he quickly positions his leg between mine.
“I’m not done yet.”
He fingers my hair and pulls me up, curving my back.
He undoes his pants, and within seconds, his tip, dripping with precum, presses against my entrance.
I breathe heavier, waiting for what’s to come.
Thankfully, he doesn’t let me wait long, as he presses his cock inside me, and I let out a loud moan.
With his fingers bruising my hips, he starts thrusting into me, sliding into me with ease, my cunt a slippery mess after what he has done to me.
I relish the feeling of him stretching me, and my pussy clamping down on his cock.
“Work, Starling,” he snarls.
Having a hard time focusing, I move the candle across Tammy’s collarbone while Jasper pounds into me from behind.
The slaps of our skin and my whimpers are the only sounds in the room.
I watch as Tammy turns into a plastic doll, her breathing barely there.
I don’t know why I find it hot; perhaps it’s her yielding to me, the way I managed to crush her will so easily.
I grab the edge of the table, pushing back against Jasper, bucking into his hold as he slams into me relentlessly. I moan loudly when his skilled fingers find my sensitive clit. I don’t think I can handle this.
“Oh God,” I cry out.
“That’s right, I am your God,” he growls.
I’m overtaken by the sensation that I need to pee, but I don’t want to stop, so I try to ignore it. He rubs my nub at a high pace, and as the orgasm unfurls and crashes through me, I squirt all over the floor.
“Fuck,” I mutter, mortified.
He wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing just slightly. “That’s fucking hot, darling. Look at you, squirting all over the floor for me like the good girl you are.”
My cheeks flush a light pink from his praise, and a few thrusts later, he empties his release inside me. He pulls out a few seconds later, nuzzling my neck and pressing tender kisses to the nape. His warm load crawls down my thighs, and I let it trace its own pattern across my skin.
Jasper pulls me back against his sweat-covered chest, his head resting on my shoulder, and together we watch Tammy. She resembles a naked porcelain doll. It’s beautiful.
“You did a wonderful job, my love. Look at your masterpiece. The first of many. I can’t wait for you to capture her choiceless surrender.”
“That sounds like a title, Choiceless Surrender,” I murmur. “It captures how I made her bend to my will.”
I can feel his proud smile against my flesh. Unlike Tammy, I have never felt so alive.
“Let’s get dressed,” he says, a reluctance to his voice. “I have a surprise for you.”
I turn around, facing him, and I squint my eyes at him curiously. He picks up my underwear and jeans and hands them to me. Quickly, I get dressed. He beckons me to follow him to another room, and when we enter, I see it.
My mouth opens in an ‘o’, my lips slightly parted.
I brush past him, almost running towards the mahogany casket, intricate details carved in the polished wood.
I graze my fingers over the smooth surface.
Then I notice the dried bouquets of flowers, an entire wall full of them.
Roses, lilies, laurel, chrysanthemums, all the familiar grave flowers are lined up. Tears pool from my eyes of happiness.
“I figured you’d need some props,” he smiles, and I fling myself around his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whisper.