cw: kink, d/s, wax play, nipple torture, scratching, body writing
Here’s how things seem to go lately:
1. A sex toy store tweets a new thing they have.
2. I go “Oh my God I need it” and hyperventilate.
3. I talk myself out of buying the thing because I can actually live without every shiny thing that catches my attention.
I’m talking, of course, about the new Fox Drip Candle from Blush’s Temptasia line. Temptasia is Blush Novelties’ light BDSM line, with plugs, fuzzy handcuffs, and pumps. I tend to like these sort of introductory kink collections (such as the CalExotics Scandal line) because they’re comparatively inexpensive, but still usually pretty effective. Kink, like all sexual pleasure, should not be reserved only for those who can drop a lot of money on equipment, and while pervertables (non-kinky items used in a kinky way) are a good way to stay Kinky On A Budget, sometimes you want something aesthetically pleasing, and sometimes you want something manufactured for kink so that it feels a little safer.
And sometimes, you just want a candle that’s shaped like a fox.
The Fox Drip Candle stands 3.75 inches tall, made of red-orange (it photographs very orange, but is quite red in person) soy wax, coconut wax, and beeswax. Most candles made for wax play are soy-based and unscented, because that’s safest. Soy wax melts at a low temperature, which means that when the wax spills onto skin, it’s hot but won’t burn. This candle is, of course, molded into a minimalist sitting fox shape. It has a flat base, which means you don’t need a candle holder—you can just set it on a table or, if you’re fastidious about your surfaces, on a plate. Its two pointed ears bear the wicks, and beneath those, the fox has a flat face with two almond-shaped eyes, a little round nose, the suggestion of cheek fluff in the simple shaping. My favorite detail is the little bulge of a fox tail on the back. The design is extremely simple and sleek, but perfectly effective. It’s a fox! Honestly, you could just buy this as a regular decorative candle and no one would be the wiser.
But we didn’t buy it as a regular decorative candle, did we? No, sir.
I was delighted when it arrived, though I wasn’t sure when I’d get the opportunity to try it out. My dear dom Damien had some back problems, I was (as usual) an emotional wreck, and so on and so forth. But this last weekend, we were were flopping around our room while Metamour took a nap in his, and I texted Damien (why talk to someone in the same room when you can text) that we should do a kink scene sometime.
“Sounds good,” they texted back. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Maybe we could do an impact-free session like we’ve talked about,” I said. “We could use the new candle, and our Wartenberg wheel, all that stuff.”
“That sounds fun. Pick out some toys.”
“Yeah…wait, now? We wanna do this now?”
“Yeah, sure,” they said. “Why not?”
So I picked out some non-impact sensation toys—the wheel, some loofah gloves, markers for body writing, and obviously the Fox Drip Canlde. I also considered some nipple clamps, almost chickened out because my boobs were pretty sensitive due to period weirdness, and then remembered that if it was too much I had a safe word and brought those along for the party.
Then I stepped out of the room for a bit to do a frantic little photoshoot of the fox candle, trying to be as quick as possible so we didn’t have to worry about Metamour waking up before we could even start playing.
Impromptu kink sessions can be fun, but they also feature dumb moments like, “Hey, should I be face up or face down?” “I dunno, which do you want?” “Uhhhhh I dunno, what do you think?” “Well, I can’t put the nipple clamps on you if you’re face down.” “Face up it is!”
We got me on my back on Damien’s bed. We didn’t bother with our under-mattress bondage set because they wanted me to be able to turn over easily, but that probably would have been a fun addition. Maybe next time.
They affixed the nipple clamps to my nipples, and I squeaked but didn’t give my safe word. They laughed and told me to keep quiet, and made me keep the nipple clamps on while they got everything else ready and then, mercifully, removed them.
When they lit the Fox Drip Candle, it began to melt immediately. “Ready?” they said, to which I squeaked affirmatively, and they immediately began raining down drops of wax. In the dim light of our bedside lamp, it was blood red, and they dripped carefully over my breasts (avoiding my abused nipples), my stomach, my thighs.
It felt like other candles do, and that feeling is a good one: a brief flare of pain that cools and tightens my skin a little beneath it, so I can’t forget that it’s there, and then another, and another. It always stings, which I prefer for my pain, but feels so different from spanking or scratching or any of the other sensations I love. Damien never plays in any recognizable sequence, and I never know where the next droplet is going to fall. At first, I’m not sure they knew entirely, either—the two wicks made it a tiny bit harder to control, though that would be resolved by only lighting one at a time. (Your fox will end up lopsided, but that’s fine.) But as they played more, they got a better understanding of just how to hold it and just how to drip.
When we play with wax, I tend to jump. No, not even jump—it’s more like a heavy-duty twitch, like my skin is trying to cringe away from the little bursts of heat. They always laugh, liking that they can make my body react without my input. I also adore it, and my continued squeaking was as much pleasure as it is pain.
I was, I have to say, doing an abysmal job of keeping quiet, though. Next time I’m probably getting gagged.
Once they were done with the candle, they sat down next to me and started picking the wax off. “You look like you have chicken pox,” they said. The soft wax came up pretty easily, leaving a few red flakes here and there that, later, came off almost instantly in the shower. While Blush claims the coconut wax will leave my skin smoother and generally happier, neither of us noticed any real difference, but honestly: it’s a wax play candle, not a skin care product. It doesn’t have to leave my skin smoother, firmer, wrinkle-free, and with smaller pores. It makes my skin go ‘ow’ and then it’s done. That’s all I’m asking for in a wax play candle.
The rest of the scene was awesome (the loofah gloves made good fun scratchy sensations and also led to more nipple torture, and then Damien drew pretty pictures all over my tummy, breasts, and back) but, tragically, not relevant for this review. I also had some pretty intense subdrop later, which has nothing to do with toys and everything to do with us remembering to do adequate aftercare instead of, uh, me taking a shower, immediately followed by us making dinner. But that’s fine. The scene was still fun, and that was, in part, because of the new fox candle.
Now, the downside is pretty obvious: once you use it, the fox looks a little bit wonky, and the wonk only increases the more you use it. Eventually, I anticipate that my fox will be headless. That’s all right. It’s like a chocolate Easter bunny: you pick out the cutest one, and then you demolish it. (Maybe that’s just me?)
I’d also love it if there were more colors available. The red-orange really just looks red in reality and, as Damien observed, it kinda gives an unfortunate chicken pox effect on the skin that would be mitigated if accompanied by, say, purple and black splatters as well. They could even do different colors for different animal shapes. How fun would it be to have a colorful little wax menagerie lined up for use during a scene? (Also, I guarantee you that a pink cat would sell out in minutes if the DDLG crowd got wind of it.)
All in all, I’m glad I bought this little fox. It’s extremely cute, and it’s much easier to use than the other wax play candles we have, some cheapo ones from Pipedream or something that we got at our Local Shitty Sex Toy Store last year, because those require a candle holder if Damien wants to put them down for a moment. And for once, a toy was wonderful in both form and function, unlike my many aesthetic disappointments.
The Bottom Line
It’s cute, it feels good and stingy, it makes me make weird squeaky noises…honestly, I should be writing as Tessa Guinea Pig, not Tessa Fox, but that’s okay. I have a candle that matches my name, and I love it.
This post was not sponsored but does contain affiliate links. I bought the product with my own money.