Poor Wyatt remains bound in a terribly uncomfortable position, wrists and ankles locked in a steel brace, his back arched off the floor, his chest and abs covered with wounds from the single-tail whip. But Jared is just getting warmed-up. He brings in a tray full of votive candles, each containing an ounce of liquid fire. After delivering a few more blows from the whip, Jared pours the hot wax on the fresh whip-wounds, sending the young slave into spasms of agony. “Why are you here, boy?” Jared demands. “To please you, sir, always!” Wyatt replies, between gasps of pain. Jared is so turned on he sucks his slave’s cock while continuing to pour searing-hot wax on his torso. The wax adheres to Wyatt’s skin, burning for minutes as it hardens. Then Jared whips it off. So cruel. So beautiful.
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