© Sauce*Box, Fall 1997. All rights
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Heat
by Ralph Greco Jr.
John lay on the high four-poster, the two glasses of wine warming his naked body to a tentative inner heat. Miss June had warned he would feel like sleeping the minute he lay atop the deep purple comforter and John was trying his best to keep a wake. Best not to close his eyes and loose one second of this night, John mused; he had paid greatly for the privilege of being in Miss June's care. He wanted to experience every ounce of sensation, every perspiring moment of bliss, every single filament touch of sizzling contact. Miss June's house was the one place in the whole state - possibly all the world - where John would be able to play his fantasy to the utmost possibility and the twenty year-old wanted -needed - to be fully awake for this night!
When had John's need started? From where had his desire for combustion, heat, flaming discomfort been born? From what well of submerged fantasy had his need grown, festered and now all but consumed him? John's earliest erotic memory was of rubbing his crotch against his mattress, while under the stifling wash of muted air from his heavy winter comforter. The hot rays of a bright summer day just outside his bedroom window, John's mother couldn 't ever understand why her ten year-old boy insisted on keeping his blanket at the edge of his bed all year round. It was during these prepubescent years that John began, in earnest, his search for heat and the excitement he was well aware it brought him. Youn g John searched for the tightest spots in friend's attics or basement crawlspaces, he was the one who always volunteered to light the firecracker or stoke the family-room fire. And w hile too young to experience the full charge of an erection, John felt that white-spark cha rge of adrenaline hit him in his loins every time as he walked closer to a flame or scrunched into an enclosed space.
Into is teenage years, as his hormones spinned his desires out of contro llable limits, John had fantasized daily about being smothered in heat; willing a glorio us warmth to tickle at his scrotum, or having his nipples pulled and seared by white-hot meta l clamps. Yes, he had read and reread, countless pages on the subject of pyromania, but Joh n was no fire-starter. His desires didn't include alighting flame, burning things, ca using harm. No, John wanted to feel heat around him. He wished, in the deep carnal storehouse that we all keep locked with our heavy chains of regret, to have his genitals; his every e rogenous zone; his acute tactile feelings, encased in mind-numbing heat.
But John didn't want to be burned! That was a "no where trip" like pyromania. He had traveled that route with overzealous lovers who had tried to meet his need with spilled candle wax or liberally applied "Tiger Balm". The old axiom, "play with fire and you might get burned" was never truer as John lowered himself into a freezing bath after a date. The burn, the residual scalding mark, was never what John wanted. While he silently thanked those girls who had tried to meet his need, John knew he would only ever find real satisfaction with a professional woman like Miss June. Now, laying on his back in this dark wood room, the downy comforter fold ing to the tight crevice between his firm buttocks, John knew he was about to finally experience the true nature of the 'heat' he so desired.
"How are you feeling?" the soft voice John knew as Miss June's, filled the small room.
John looked up with a start but the room was as empty of occupants as it had been since he entered.
"Fine," John said. "Real good."
"I'm glad to hear it. I'll join you shortly," the mistress of the house explained. "I just wanted you to know that I am monitoring you and to ask if you need anything before we begin?"
"No," John relied, laying his head back to the soft pillow and closing his eyes again.
"No thanks, I'm fine," he added.
"As you should be here," the lady agreed. "All your needs are about to be met."
"Are you nervous?" the lady asked, after ten seconds of silence. John searched his soft tickling calm. I guess I am...a little, he though t to himself, and then admitted out loud: "Just a bit. But mostly turned on."
"That I can see, yes," the mistress said, referring to John's unbidden erection.
"And I truly am glad."
"I'll see you in a few minutes," Mistress June said and then added : "For your information, the room is now a toasty eighty-eight degrees and the fire has been fed to last our entire session. I trust you will enjoy this slight discomfort."
"Yes," John agreed. "It feels really great."
"Good," Miss June replied and then left John to his warming fate. What exactly the thin lady with the blue-black hair and blue eyes had in mind for him, John had no idea. She had come highly recommended by a friend of a f riend. The man, Carl was his name, was John's senior by ten years and held daily ' court' in the school's tavern for any student looking for a quick, meaty discussion w ith their beer. Carl was one of those guys in his early thirties that never graduated and was always "in-between-classes". If John had not known any better (and he really hadn't) he would have sworn the college hired guys like Carl just to give the real students people to hang out with if their friends happened to be in classes when they weren't! "We must indulge our fears and desires," Carl was found of saying... to anyone who would listen. "It is only through the realization of these feelings that we can truly be alive."
John had sat enraptured that day, down at the other end of the pocked cherry-wood table, catching the man's gray eyes every so often. He noticed Carl reserved an odd smile for him, when he caught John looking his way. It had taken John a good three months after that day to finally confront Carl, and when he did he was surprised at both the blonde-haired man's candor and insight.
"Every need you have is valid," Carl
began, as John brought him over another frosty mug of beer.
It had been late afternoon, right before John's six o'clock class, and the
two men were the only patrons in the basement bar.
"I can see in you a great urging," the man with the small green eyes continued. "A searching. A need you can't escape."
"I'm afraid you're right," John agreed and had taken a long gulp of his own beer.
"No need to be afraid," Carl had replied, then produced a small notebook from his right breast pocket, and with John's pen (which Carl ripped from the side of John's loose-leaf binder before John could catch the movement) wrote a number down on the thin paper.
"Miss June is the person to see," Carl said, ripping the piece of paper free and passing both pen and page across the table top. "She will help you find your way."
And that was how John had come here, two counties over, to this simple three-story brick building on this quiet tree-lined three acres. Miss June had listened intently as John explained his tentative connection to Carl, finally admitting after a stuttering half hour why he was calling. The soft spoken lady had reassured John that there was nothing to fear, and that yes, she could help him. She recited directions, explained her fee and reassured John that his need, while complicated and requiring skill from the administer, could be provided.
"John?" Miss June called, again from
the hidden intercom.
"Yes?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
"I am coming in now," the lady of the house continued. "Roll over. I know it will be a bit uncomfortable, but please obey me."
"Of course," John agreed and slowly rolled onto his side, gingerly up, and then onto his stomach.
Of course John would honor any request Miss June made. When they had first talked on the phone, Miss June assured John that while she wouldn't be ordering him to positions or actions (a role John was sure the lady was quite familiar with) she did need to have his complete cooperation. And while she had established a 'safe word' with John, as she did with all her 'charges', Miss June assured John that he would never have to use it. What John wanted, and what Miss June fully understood, would take careful planning and delicate maneuvering, but John was more then willing to leave himself in Miss June's capable hands, even if it meant laying his ragging erection to the side and laying on it right then.
A minute later John heard the unmistakable sound of the room's only door opening. He heard the 'click-click' of Miss June's heels advancing across th e wooden floor to him.
"Very good," Miss June agreed to John's ass. "Can you feel the heat of the fire on your bottom?"
"Yes," John agreed and did. It was a soft warmth, not too hot, but enough to make John aware of the spitting flames in the fireplace across the room.
"I think we need to start on your bottom," the lady continued and John heard the woman walk closer to him.
"Now, normally I would know how to warm a bottom in just the perfect way,"Miss June said and John felt her right behind him. He decide to keep his eyes closed since he wasn't sure if she wanted him to open them or not.
"But this is a different case," Miss June explained. "You didn't come here for a spanking. Still," the lady concluded and then John felt the searing cut of a cane across his flanks.
"Just to awaken the skin," the lady said and John opened his eyes, looked quickly behind him, and saw Miss June reach back with the skinny stick and swat him again.
"Urr," John growled into the pillow.
"We want to avoid pain," Miss June suggested, taking a step even closer. Her big hand touched John's quivering bottom and she started to rub a large circle across the two welts she had just produced.
"Just to heat up the skin," the lady explained and as the shock in John's brain (and ass) settled, he did indeed feel the stinging sensation of heat rising ac ross his bottom.
"A bit more," the lady said, still circling her soft hand. The heat was definitely increasing on John's ass. From the fireplace sparkle to Miss June's hand, John's ass was warming to the point that he actually felt his erection growing; a great heat was touching his ass now, a heat he could only wish would increase all over his body.
"Spread your legs John," Miss June lightly ordered and stopped rubbing. John felt Miss June move away as he did as asked. He heard her pinpoint heels click across the floor as she walked off to his right. The lady had to be heading for the high dark dresser that stood at the far right wall, it was simply the only real piece of furiture, other then the bed, in the room. John soon heard what he knew was one of the high dresser's drawers being opened. A few seconds of muted fumbling, then the drawer was closed again. Miss June walked back across the room and then John felt her behind him once again.
"Scoot down a bit so your legs are off the
bed," the lady said. John did so, as the silky comforter rubbed at
his throbbing penis, up his tight stomach and to his chest. He felt his
legs reach the edge of the bed and then he was dangling his lower half to
the floor in one quick 'drop' of his legs.
With his ass at the very edge of the bed, bent over and spread as he was,
John felt all the more vulnerable...and that much more excited.
"Good," Miss June agreed. "Now, lift your right leg straight out behind you."
John did so, balancing on his left foot. He felt
a tiny circle of material on his toe. Miss June was stretching a tight nylon
stocking across his foot and smoothing it up his long hairy leg.
"You see..." the lady began, as she reached up John's thigh, fitting
the stocking to his leg. Encasing John in the tight warmth of the first
nylon, Miss June gently pushed John's right leg to the floor. The boy instinctively
lifted his left leg for the same process. "..usually feminization is
a particular desire," the lady continued as she fitted the second stocking
to John's left foot. "But in your case, the stockings only serve to
keep the heat in."
John's left thigh was wrapped as Miss June slowly lowered his stocking foot to the floor. He could feel an almost itchy tightness from his feet to his upper thighs.
"Stand please," Miss June ordered and
John bent his knees to the floor and leaned off of the bed.
"Those stockings will stay," Miss June explained as John slowly
stood, his back to the lady.
"Please turn," she added and John slowly did so. "Walk closer
to the fire," Miss June said, as John turned to face front fully. John
felt a sudden wash of heat meet his straight penis, as Miss June placed
a soft hand to his elbow and walked him across the room to the fenced fireplace.
"This close the warmth is delicious," the lady said, as they stood in the spitting glow. "Any closer would be danger."
"Yes," John agreed, as his erection
popped even more from his body.
"Danger is not what I am about here," the lady continued.
"I am about a safe indulgence. As I told you, I want you to feel all
you wish to feel, all you have never been able to feel because of fear from
danger, of being hurt."
"Yes, of yes," John said, bowing his head slightly. He looked down to the odd sight of his muscular legs encased in black stockings and was suddenly aware of the glorious warmth surrounding his legs...from within the stockings and from the heat hitting them from the fire.
"I know that you want heat here," Miss
June said, and softly touched John's penis. "And I know your orgasm
will follow quickly," she added.
"Yes," John exhaled. He was so very turned-on. Standing
in front of this warm fire, his legs itching and sweating, his ass still
stinging, his penis and testicles warming to the fire and this attractive
woman's hot breath at his ear; had John ever known a moment so perfect?
"We must take our time," Miss June said and her thin lips spread to a tight smile across her high-cheekboned face.
Once again Miss June left him. John just stood, drinking in the fire as the lady walked to her dresser again. This time she simply reached for some object atop the piece of furniture and then returned to John's side. "I want to apply this to you," Miss June said and John looked to the lady's hand.
There was a porcelain cup in the center of Miss June's palm. It had no lid and inside it was a gooey white cream.
"I have two types of salve in my house," she said, lowering her hand to her side. "One to cool the skin," she remarked, as John watched her dip two fingers into the cup. "And one to heat the skin," she added, removing her hand and then looking into John's eyes. "This one is for heat," the lady added and suddenly John felt Miss June's hand on his stiff penis again.
This time the heat was so immediate, so acute, that John nearly jumped. As Miss June cupped her hand around John's cock, the heat from the salve lapped at his penis, following the lady's deft stroking up and down his shaft. "This salve needs no friction really," the lady explained, moving her hand slowly up John's penis for the third time. "But I have always been under the belief that a little extra attention is never wasted," Miss June said and coaxed John's hard shaft through her tight fist, up and down, another two times until she stopped. "Now, let that work," the lady said, as John stood gasping from Miss June's attentions, as well as the searing salve.
All John's attention was on his cock now. He looked down, half expecting to see red furrows of flame all over his penis, but it was very much like before , a bit redder maybe and probably the hardest it had been since John arrived here, but nothing untoward in the smooth, slightly bent shaft. Certainly no outward signs to indicate the rising discomfort of heat John was now enjoying. "Let it meet with the flames of the fire," Miss June cooed into John 's ear.
John could very well imagine the heat around his penis meeting with the spitting fire in front of him. He was all flame now. He was lighted, encased and e nraptured in the single pinpoint glory of being hot all over.
"Nothing you want is dirty, sick or perverse," Miss June explained, her voice far away to John, although she hadn't moved from his side. "Relish the heat you feel," she continued, from a mile away. "Your body is immersed in it. Surrender yourself to what you really want," the lady continued.
John felt the unmistakable clutch and circle of a condom being slipped over the head of his suffering penis and worked down his shaft.The heat from the salve mixed with the tightness of the rubber and suddenly John's penis was alight in a heat so searing he nearly moved to rip the condom off. Miss June kept her hand tight to John's cock and started her soft, deft caressing yet again. John knew it would take no time now for him to come. "Feel it," she coaxed. "Be it."
John moaned to the room, opened his eye and looked down to the kind face of his tormentor, his healer, his mother, his best friend. She held the key (as well as his dick!). She coaxed the flame, she built the warmth, she had opened the door to hi s deepest need. As John literally 'fucked' the condom (and Miss June's hand) the heat increased; opposite, sensual feelings of pain and delight ripped John's last ties of lucidity from him. John started to weep with the realization that he was now, finally, experiencing his deepest desire.
"I am only the kindling, John," Miss June softly reported. "You are the fuel. Your mind provides the flame. I only administer to your needs. The flame comes from inside you."
John felt Miss June's words sear into him: "The flame comes from inside you." The flame comes from inside you! John knew with a certainty he had never felt before that Miss June was right. He had the flame. He knew how to coax it. John's ideas, his needs, his thoughts, desires and fears are what 'fueled' the whole thing! In a way, he was the fire! For better or worse, John now knew that he was the flame! "Oh oh," John managed as Miss June grabbed him a fraction of an inch tighter.
"Come into the fire," she suggested, whispering close to John's ear. "Let go to yourself," the lady said and John tipped his head down, opened his eyes and watched as the lady's soft hand milked him straight, hard and true. John came in a glorious fount, filling the reservoir tip with his flaming come.
Miss June had prepared a simple late night snake of fruit and cheese. No mention made of the events of only a half hour before. She was quite and interesting woman and John fell into a lengthy, spirited conversation with the pretty lady that ended a good hour later. Miss June simply kissed John cheek and told him to call on her any time, but she did assure him that she thought he had resolved many things this evening and might not need so see her ever again.
As John rode off into the very early morning, he realized that Miss June's words could very well be true. He had resolved a great many things this night and as he watched the new-day sun rise over the mountains, he faced that muted flame with a smile and felt another deeper flame, from inside himself, reach to meet the new day.
* * * * *
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