I'm writing this in the knowledge that this isn't the worst thing that's ever happened in a BDSM scene, but at the same time, I write it with hindsight berating me for how easily this could have been avoided.

Whether you plan a scene or freestyle, sometimes, there are endeavours that go awry.

There are mistakes you can make that rock you, lessons in communication and boundaries, in pacing and how you show up. These are quite important, meaningful lessons that sharpen your approach and change how you enter into a dynamic, or a scene, or articulate yourself.

And then there are mistakes that stay with you as facepalm moments. Maybe because you spent forty minutes on your knees the following morning, scraping solidified wax off a hardwood floor followed by Googling how to lift wax from your favourite woollen bed throw.

My tale, is one of the latter.

I remember saying in a nonchalant way over dinner one evening, how do you feel about wax play and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and her eyes lit up. Brilliant, I thought, and within a week I had candles in one hand and a lighter in the other (post negotiation and discussion, of course). 

I enjoy the anticipation, the build up and excitement that comes with introducing something you've thought about for a while.

I had prepared for the scene the way I usually prepare - instruments laid out, the environment considered, the order of things roughly mapped in my head. Yet despite this, I had not spared even the smallest of thought for any clean-up prevention.

No, I'd gone gung-ho into the experience with her lying on the bed throw, the nice one at the end of my bed. 

And it hadn't entered my head that hot wax, being a liquid, does not stay precisely where you intend it to. It drips, runs, and travels down the curves of a persons body (this part I had definitely thought about, a lot), and it finds your soft furnishings underneath with particular efficiency, and latches on. Seeps into the wool, cotton or bamboo, and dries in. This part, I had not thought about.

I'll be honest, by the time we'd finished, the wellbeing of my bedding was still not a thought. My mind was preoccupied.

It was the next day, in the hard light of morning, did I fully appreciate how little I'd thought about the aftermath of wax play. The throw looked like a remnant of my A'Level Fine Art project or a Jackson Pollock replica.

I felt a little deflated, in honesty, it was quite the contrast to the activity that caused the memorable mess. And then I ignored it for three days because I wasn't ready to fix the mess or prepared to dispose of my nice bedthrow - so I chose the third option of pretending the problem didn't exist awhile.

When I came to face it, the internet to its credit, had answers. Wise words of those in my TikTok comment section of lifting the wax out with a hot iron and greaseproof paper helped.

The throw isn't fully back to normal, and it has been retired to the wardrobe instead of taking prime place at the foot of my bed.

I, however, have most definitely learned my lesson, about properly protecting my furniture before I even think about lighting a candle over a person. It's not that wax play is inherently messy and unmanageable, but it's that the first time - you'll be thinking about the candle and not the cleanup.

And perhaps, if it's on the end of the bed, put the throw somewhere else first.