The air in the bedroom was thick enough to choke on, charged with a level of frustration that made the very curtains seem to vibrate. Varsha threw the duvet aside with such force it nearly took the bedside lamp with it. She stood by the foot of the bed, her eyes blazing, chest heaving.
Rishi, still half-tangled in the sheets and looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a freight train, held up his hands in a futile gesture of peace.
"Oh, stow the 'please,' Rishi," she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "I am honestly fascinated. Is it a hobby? Do you have a secret spreadsheet where you track exactly how long it takes for the moment to be completely ruined? Why is it so hard for you to stay hard?"
Rishi winced, his face flushing a deep, mortified crimson. "I know, I’m sorry. It just… it happens. I get in my head, and then—"
"And then you drop," she finished, throwing her hands up. "Like a stone. Every. Single. Time. It’s like watching a magic trick where the magician forgets the rabbit, the hat, and how to breathe. You need to be treated correctly, clearly, because whatever 'method' you're using is a catastrophe."
She didn't wait for his rebuttal. She spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing like gunfire against the hardwood floor.
Rishi sat there, stunned and silent, staring at the empty doorway. Ten seconds later, she was back.
She wasn't holding a lecture, or a glass of water. She was holding a tall, thick pillar candle. The flame danced precariously as she marched to the center of the rug, looking like an exasperated goddess of vengeance.
She planted her feet, held the candle aloft, and pointed a finger at him.
"Get out of the bed," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. "Right now. Stand here."
Rishi scrambled out, his bare feet hitting the cold floor, looking terrified and utterly bewildered. "Varsha, what are you—"
"I said stand there," she hissed, positioning herself directly in front of him, the candlelight casting long, flickering shadows over their faces. "If you can’t manage to stay focused, we are going to do this the hard way. You are going to learn how to pay attention, and you are going to learn it right now."
Rishi’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he realized exactly what she intended for his exposed, vulnerable penis. Before he could retreat, her hand whipped out with predatory speed, catching the waistband of his briefs and pulling them taut, fully revealing his penis to the flickering, hungry flame of the candle.
"Varsha, wait—don't!" he gasped, his gaze fixed on his own exposed penis, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Shut up," she hissed, her eyes glinting with a cold, manic focus on his trembling penis.
She tilted the candle. A bead of molten, translucent wax hovered at the wick before falling, landing squarely on the sensitive skin of his penis. A jagged, high-pitched scream tore from his throat as the searing, visceral sting scorched his penis.
Rishi buckled, his body trying to lurch backward to protect his penis, but Varsha shoved a firm hand against his chest, pinning him in place.
"Stay still!" she barked, her voice drowning out the whimpers escaping his lips as his penis throbbed with agony. Her grip was iron-clad, her expression void of any sympathy for his stinging, reddened penis.
"Varsha, it burns! Stop—please!" He was trembling now, sweat breaking out across his forehead, his face twisted in terror as he felt the wax hardening against the shaft of his penis.
She didn't blink. She didn't falter. She simply tilted the candle again, her wrist steady, ignoring the way he writhed against her hold to shield his penis.
"I told you," she whispered, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy calm. "You need to be treated correctly. If you want to focus, I’m going to make sure your penis has absolutely nothing else to react to but me."
She poured again, a steady, thick stream of heat coating his penis, and as the wail ripped through him, she leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. "Don't you dare move, Rishi. Your penis isn't going anywhere, and we are nowhere near finished."
She didn't let up, her hand pinning him against the wall as she tilted the candle again. As another cascade of molten wax coated his skin, he let out a strangled, guttural sound, his body spasming in a futile attempt to escape the agony.
"Look at me," she demanded, her voice cutting through his panicked breathing. "Look at what happens when you decide to stop functioning. Every time you lose your focus, every time your penis decides it has better things to do than satisfy me, you are going to pay the price."
He was shaking violently now, his face pale and slick with perspiration. He tried to pull away, but her grip on his waist was unyielding, keeping him trapped right where she wanted him.
"You wanted to be 'in the mood'?" she taunted, pouring another steady stream of liquid heat directly onto him. "Fine. Then you can stay alert. You will stay standing exactly where I put you, and you will learn that the only thing you are allowed to focus on is me. Do not move, and do not make me repeat myself."
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