Sheena and a friend and I travel to the Vault at the end of one of our six-hour shoots. It is after midnight. In keeping with the S&M philosophy of the Vault, Sheena intends to pour hot wax over her naked body. She kneels on a torn red leather love seat in the back play area (#1). Behind me, and in front of her are at least six men, fully erect, playing with their cocks. The pain is proportionate to the length the wax drips; the closer the burning candle the more painful it is (#2). Sheena tells me there is pleasure in sustained pain (#3). More pain as the wax drips down onto her chest (#4).
I feel like I am at a sexual circus, the way she places the hot wax on her naked body (#5). Her body is her art. Sex is her medium. The audience gasps as she hits her clit (#6). Are these wax drippings indecipherable messages to men and women (#7)? When she moves the candles out over her nipples it is as though she is outside her body observing herself (#8), and the hot wax drips...drips...drips...onto her tongue (#9, #10).
