I knew I wanted to explore wax play for a long time, but never really knew how I would approach it: would it be a fetish for me, a one-time thing I could say I simply tried, or would it be something that would never manifest itself in real life. My personal experience was lacking but my curiosity flourished. It seems rather silly because wax play is such a common, acceptable kink that most look upon it as relatively mild (although it can be very extreme, depending on your personal taste). For me, it was one of those things that I knew many people had tried and come to love, but I knew that when and if the time was right, it would happen. I’m glad I waited, because one day, I accidentally found the thing that turned a mere eyebrow perk into a full-on fascination.
While browsing a fetish community site, I stumbled upon a photo titled “Skinning”
that made me literally break into a sweat. It was a woman’s inner thigh enveloped in
a sheet of translucent white wax. The hand of her Dominant was carefully traveling
up her body with a scalpel. For reasons that were obvious to me, the photo received
a lot of attention. The vulnerability and trust involved in the submission, as well as
the responsibility and care of the Dominant, stayed with me for days. I just couldn’t
shake it. Unfortunately, most of my research on wax play didn’t provide
any information on much other than the use of a small amount of dripping candle
wax. I found myself repeatedly looking up things like “wax peeling fetish” and “wax
skinning,” finding absolutely nothing. Fruitless web searches piss me off, and it may have propelled the fetish further because it was shrouded in mystery. I was bummed, but I was on a mission.
Luckily, I am a licensed esthetician and had previous experience using paraffin wax
for hand and foot treatments during skincare services. I already had some basic
information in regard to safety, which of course is of the utmost importance in any
kind of sex play. I also pieced together some information about more traditional
forms of wax play with knowledge I already had about things like full-body wraps,
temperature safety, claustrophobia, and sensation play.
Throughout this entire venture I kept getting visions of what it might be like. I
had one potential subject in mind–a play partner that my Dominant and I had
unexpectedly grown close with. After proving her fondness for cooking
and cleaning up after us, we affectionately named her Housegirl. She was studying
abroad and coming home for a holiday visit, so we wanted to do something special
together. I spoke to her about potentially exploring some wax and skinning play,
and she was very receptive. I staged the entire evening and searched until I had
an answer to every possible question I could think of. One night I shared our plans
with a friend, and when I did, her eyes lit up. She wanted to be involved too, so in
this new intimate experience, I also had the leadership of my Dominant and a lovely
assistant. With so many stars aligning, I thought that surely, something would fall
through or maybe the experience wouldn’t be as great as I imagined. But I had spent
so much time and invested so much energy; I knew that I owed it to myself to find
out. I was glad I did.
In the days leading up to our special night, I gathered all the necessary supplies. I
elected not to use a scalpel or knife like the Dominant in the original photo I saw,
due to the fact that it was my first time and I wanted to ensure that it was as safe
as possible for all of us. Instead, I purchased a pair of curb tip safety scissors from
KinkLab, which allowed for close skin contact and the sensation of cold metal while
minimizing the risk of actually puncturing the skin. I got a paraffin bath and bricks
of unscented paraffin wax (anything with additives could create potential for an
allergic reaction), and made sure to pick up some inexpensive plastic shower curtain
liners so that cleaning up would be easy (and I didn’t have to worry about getting wax on anything expensive, like bed sheets or the floor). One of the most fun and creative parts of my shopping trip was finding things to use for sensation tools. I picked up both soft-bristle and plastic-bristle hairbrushes, a metal-tooth comb, vinyl gloves and some fresh ice cube trays. I also got a feather tickler from Sportsheets. My Dominant suggested a blindfold, and made one out of the super-soft material from one of His old black t-shirts. This was definitely an instance of two heads being better than one, as Housegirl has confessed that she can be rather sneaky. She volunteered later that it was the only time she had ever been blindfolded and was unable to peek.
We had carried our mattress down from upstairs and placed it on the living room
floor so we could all gather around her. Our assistant tore open each package of
vinyl curtain liners and spread them across my bed. I kneeled on the floor and took
Housegirl’s hand, sitting her in the center of the room, the focus of all three of us in
her presence. My Dominant gently pulled back the tiny hairs clinging to her face,
and slipped the black blindfold around her eyes, then laid her back. I moved down
to her feet, her legs bent and knees perched in the air. I spread her knees apart
so they were touching the smooth vinyl on the mattress. I smiled and resisted the
urge to giggle. Truthfully, looking around the room–the soft lights, the silent girl
surrounded by three wide-eyed onlookers–more closely resembled a séance than
a scene. There were so many little details I had failed to imagine in my fantasies of
that night, and when I saw them happening, they snapped me back into reality.
The paraffin wax had been slowly melting for 6 hours, maybe more. It coated the
side of the carafe as I prepared to apply the first droplets onto her skin. The first
moment of contact swelled me with a sense of complete control over her body. In
my mind, I had imagined a pained gasp from her once it touched her skin, but she
made the same helpless, surrendering pleasure-sigh I recalled from the first time
I tasted her many months before. As I ran the fluid down the center of her chest,
down her arms, her thighs, it spread and dripped like icing along the sides of her
body. It was clear at first, but as it set on her flesh, cooling from the air, it turned that
same white color I saw in the photo that inspired the evening. She looked like she
was made of frosted glass. Each time I traveled to a new part of her body, I knew she
was clueless as to where I would choose to touch her next. I became aware of the
parts of her body that were the most sensitive: the very bottom of her stomach, the
taught, perfect skin directly under her breasts, her collarbone, and her palms.
Slowly, the three of us began taking turns touching her, then all at the same time,
but in different ways. There were endless, simultaneous combinations of gentle
touch, firm pressure, and mysterious sensations of prickly-soft-silky. Cool and warm. We
were completely silent, using hand gestures to navigate our way around her body
and writhing in the sound of her breath. Slipping my fingers through the handle
of the safety scissors, I snipped them a few times near Housegirl’s ear just to perk
her curiosity. Of course, once I gazed down the length of her body to begin cutting
away the wax, the place I chose to begin was her thighs. Since the wax was pliable
even after it was set, the edge of the scissor blade slid effortlessly across her skin.
As we peeled away the wax from each area of her body, her skin was incredibly soft
underneath. I was so saturated in the moment that it took until the very end before
I realized that her cunt was so warm and wet that the wax I had poured on it had
never become solid.
I’ll admit: I had a preconceived notion of how Housegirl would feel during this whole
experience. When I first saw the image, and the weeks following, I thought
about the uncertainty, anticipation, and perhaps even fear she would experience,
and I think she did too. I was touched, and even a little surprised, when she told
me, “I’ve never felt so safe, and never felt so cared for.” To be completely honest, I
think that it solidified a mutual trust and closeness that we hadn’t had before, and
looking back, I can see that it was a significant turning point for us. It goes without
saying that if anyone else were to play with this particular kind of wax play–or even
if we were to do it again–it would be completely different. Even though I thought
I had envisioned every possible outcome, and everything went seamlessly, it was
interesting when I realized that what we did together was so completely different–
and so much more intimate–than we imagined it would be.
Naomi Hedonia is a writer, freelance make-up artist and photo assistant. Her interests include travel, domesticity and excessive manicures, and hates overuse of the word “random.” She is a mother of three and lives in the Minneapolis Arts District.