Drawn by the sound of the sounds of the play, Wes wandered closer to the edge of the landing, from where he could see the show below. The crowd was gathered around the central area of the floor, leaving a lot of space for the two protagonists to get their kink on. It wasn’t often that a pair of players attracted so much attention. Seeing the scene, the beauty of the sub lying on the table, Wes could understand why.
The sub, in his twenties from what Wes could tell, was lying on his back on a wooden table. His wrists were bound above his head and secured with a chain by one of the multitude of metal hoops adorning the walls that served more than decoration purposes. His legs, clad in loose black pants, were spread and tied by the feet of the table. His back was arched and even from a distance, Wes noticed the play of muscle, the tension in his torso as more hot wax was poured on his chest. It burned and dried up in a random pattern across the skin, only to be removed by a swift flick of a flogger. The sub trashed against the bonds, and, though Wes couldn’t be sure, he thought he heard him gasp. More wax was poured, followed immediately by another sweep of the leather.