Sole purpose

NSFW

As ever, the days were being counted until my next visit to the salon. Optimistically, I want to say that, after many years of treatment, hair growth is seemingly really slowing down now and every appointment seems to acknowledge that and there is usually a slight struggle to work out what needs doing and whether pushing the removal will encourage rather than discourage growth patterns.

My last salon trip was, I’ll admit, arranged out of convenience so that I could meet and service a new cock, one that had been talked about for some time between us, that had been told about me and had subsequently expressed an interest in taking advantage of my apparently very good cock sucking skills.

However, I was prepared for what was perceived to be the usual pattern – broadly to go for the appointment, get waxed as applicable but still service a cock or two, either my regular or at least one brought in for me.

For this, I would be in the familiar position of being naked, stretched out on the treatment table and prepared by him to use and/or for use per se. In fact, given that I knew I would be serving a new cock, I had already decided that when it entered the room, I would subserviently be knelt on the floor, near the full length mirror, in my place, at the right level and where eye contact was not part of any arrangement.

On arrival at the salon, all was quiet, no one was around. The door chime signalled my arrival into reception. Within a few seconds, he emerged from the treatment room itself. I uttered some sort of pleasantry which frankly didn’t matter. He quickly said “We’re ready for you”.

This was unfamiliar territory. I wasn’t familiar with being brought into a situation. I WAS used to being the situation, having already stripped naked and having stretched out on the treatment table or being stood ready for inspection and subsequent use and those coming in to use the sub and stripping off to do so.

On entry, I was met with the site of the new aroused cock stretched out on the treatment table, in some state of preparation and readiness. Still processing the unfamiliar territory and scene in front of me, I heard some words from my regular cock and mentor which seemed to be of some sort of options.

I fairly swiftly undressed fully, but placed my clothes on a chair. My place there had already long been set – that being to service him orally. Whilst I undressed, I noted that my regular cock and mentor was bending over to briefly suck them.

In the day or so before, I had seen a 10 minute video online of a woman beginning service on a cock and took a particular mental note of the methods she had applied, rather than simply plunging up and down the shaft.

There might have been a brief exchange of pleasantries and greetings but I had soon bent over to begin applying those practices, gently licking his recently waxed balls despite being told that they might taste of what had been applied. Those methods of kissing, licking and sucking were clearly being watched by my mentor.

The new cock made approving sounds and said that what I was doing felt good. I knew that he had been pre-sold my apparent abilities. As my focus continued on the prepared new cock, I was conscious that my mentor, in a standing position on the other side of the treatment table, was lovingly caressing my back, his hard and thick cock protruding out of my eye line but remarked upon by the outstretched cock as to how warm it was. This, I would soon discover for myself.

After a few minutes, the new cock was offered the option to be serviced in a standing position with me sat in the chair on which my clothes had been hurriedly laid a few minutes before.

Ever the submissive, I simply complied with what had been proposed and assumed the position, placing my clothes on the floor, and sitting whilst the two cocks closed in around me, both able to take advantage of the imagery below them and that of the reflection in the full length mirror which was to my immediate right.

My job was to service the cocks before me, the bodies towering above. I was slightly aware that my mentor was playing with the other cock’s body, bum cheeks, hole and balls.

As I continued orally servicing this new cock, I reached up to his nipples and played with them when my right hand wasn’t cupping his balls. My left hand was gripped around my mentor’s much harder, thicker and warmer cock. I knew I was predominantly there to service the new cock but didn’t neglect either of those available to me, taking turns, the new cock, cooler, softer, narrower, spending time up and down each shaft or alternating sucks every few seconds or so, the size, firmness and temperature varying.

Every now and again, the new cock would leak pre-cum or get close to cumming and express a wish to break off for a minute or two to recover. Sometimes, I would suck, other times, they would use my mouth as a cock sleeve, thrusting in and out whilst my tongue and mouth worked it.

All of the time though, there were gasps and words of pleasure at my service, saying how good it felt. When I wasn’t servicing or holding my mentor’s comparatively more impressive manhood, he was ever more eagerly masturbating it and getting close and reaching down to lovingly and encouragingly caress and stroke my back and stroke the short hair on my head. I wasn’t totally sure but I think my mentor was vigorously fingering the other cock’s hole. I remember concluding this whilstreaching around to feel his waxed bum cheeks.

Together, they exchanged the view that they could continue with things as they were all day, moaning with pleasure in between. My mentor praised the new cock for lasting so long having previously told me in private that he was prone to premature ejaculation.

At one point, my mentor led with further options for his project’s use by telling him that “He likes to be fucked if you wanted”. This was met by a seemingly fascinated murmur but it went no further. I didn’t mind.

Whilst I was cock watching, the new cock seemed to be regularly clock watching but also reasoned on more than one occasion that they still had a few more minutes or could find them.

Kissing and nuzzling his cock, licking and teasing, I held his cooler, more slender shaft and slapped it on my left cheek as I took one of his balls into my mouth and gently sucked on it, again, much to his pleasure. After a few minutes, I swapped over to the other before returning to work both shafts.

Still, I was being treated to pre-cum from both cocks which I hungrily and gratefully consumed, mumuring with my mouth full to acknowledge the taste and texture of alpha nectar I was being fed. All of the time, they were acknowledging the view in the mirror and saying how good it looked.

After a quite a few minutes, the new cock said he was getting close to cumming having been almost continuously extolling the pleasure he was getting and how good my cock sucking skills apparently were. My regular cock and mentor (who seemed ever more eager to cum however and wherever) was speaking to him about me but not to me, the beta sub, and encouraged him to “cum down his throat as he will swallow”.

Moments later, he came, prolonged and heavily into my mouth which I could feel continuing to fill. I remained fully attached to collect every – single – drop. He seemed to withdraw when he was ready to do so and I was merely remaining in service until then.

I held the load in my mouth, opening it wide like a proper cum slut to show the two what I had taken from the new cock.

When I swallowed, I realised just how heavy and thick the load was, the sheer volume seeming to fill every inch of my throat as it went down. I relished it and told him how good it was.

Load number two from my regular cock wasn’t long behind. His thicker, harder and warmer, very much edged cock opened my eager mouth further as I went in search of more cum to hungrily swallow. Again, a heavy, creamy, thick and worked load emptied into my mouth and was held there before being shown to them both then dutifully, hungrily and gratefully swallowed.

I then somewhat proudly said: “I’m a bit of a cum slut these days I’m afraid”. [Although quite what I was afraid of, despite this being a turn of phrase, I don’t know].

This was referenced in reply by my regular cock who then immediately emphasised his need to have a safe word ready for him to employ due to his sub’s hunger for cock and cum.

Whilst the new cock backed away and began to dress, my mentor also covered up but stood proudly over his protege as I sat in a cum fuelled haze, beginning to play with my flaccid tiny cock as their small talk ensued punctuated by his suggestion that I was such a very good cock sucker but straight and married with it. I modestly rebuffed the praise as I had done before inwardly declaring my bisexuality these days.

“Does he cum too?” the new cock enquired. “He does and he will swallow it as well” came the reply as they continued to talk about me but not to me, the cum slut sub.

I seemed to have been holding off on cumming until I was told to do so and acknowledged this as an instruction.

Still sitting, legs spread, I came heavily and plentifully into a cupped hand, determined to catch every drop but the convulsions of orgasm did see some drops fall to the floor and possibly over the leading edge of the chair on which I felt sure already lay cum stains of old.

I swallowed a third load in as many minutes and continued to sit there feeding off my endlessly leaking cock tip for minutes upon end whilst the two began chattering about sexuality and the gender spectrum, them fully clothed, and juxtaposed by my nakedness and vulnerability. I was remaining naked partially to expect to then receive my body waxing treatment.

Eventually, I had finished consuming every available drop of semen but as I did so, it was concluded that there was neither time nor need for any waxing. The cock introduced for the day offered his grateful thanks which I politely reciprocated as he left the room and was let off the premises.

My regular cock and mentor had soon breezed back in to the room, declaring “You just keep getting better!” adding that I had done very well. Having begun to dress, I modestly and humbly rebuffed the praise stating that “I just do what I do”. He replied stating that he would have to find some more cocks for me. Inside, I brimmed with excitement and three loads of fresh, warm and tasty semen.

Having already acknowledged the existence of a booking for the next appointment, he asked me if I was still enjoying the taste of cum in my mouth. I murmured contentedly by reply having met my sole purpose.

If you want it, it’s there.

NSFW

There was something quite definite about the next salon appointment. A while back, circumstances might have meant that only the business of the day – waxing – was to take place but that hasn’t been the case for some time now. Each time, his cock is serviced as payment for body waxing, each time, his load is ultimately swallowed.

But as of late 2023, promises of bringing in other cocks when circumstances aligned finally came to fruition and, since then, the aim to bring more cocks in has advanced, talk of doing so has become more regular, and his aim to ensure it happens has become more of focus, appointments strategically scheduled at a point at which the logistics for opportunities are more assured and less or not at all opportunistic.

It was therefore with great excitement that I looked forward to my most recent appointment which was completed the other day. I knew that the same cocks I had met in the previous November were returning and in the appointment slot straight after me. I was practically salivating at the prospects, my vivid imagination running in overdrive.

Having arrived early once more, after a few minutes of waiting in reception, I was ushered into the warm and familiar surroundings of the treatment room, a hand assuringly grazing an arm of my coat as I entered, being left alone to strip off.

After a few minutes of being at one with my raging thoughts, he came in and instantly applied himself to assessing what areas of my body needed waxing. I quickly and assertively replied: “Everything!”.

With a quietly whispered indication of what was to come, it was determined that I would get on my front and get my back and bum waxed, even though the growth was only on the cusp of being ready to be removed.

The conversation was overtly sexual – running through the possibilities, not only from the cocks that were coming in, but the developments regarding a very well endowed man who had been consulted over being serviced by me, the only barrier being of finding the right opportunity. My mind went into overdrive thinking about the size of the biggest cock ever serviced but knew that was for another day. He said he was doing his best for me.

As I lay stretched out on my front, I knew there would be a time that he would ask me to get up on all fours for my bum to be intimately waxed. Anticipating that one cock may well end up fucking me, he ensured that the right treatment was applied to my seemingly appreciated behind.

He was expecting the two cocks to arrive and left me for a few minutes, asking me to maintain the position on all fours, whilst he checked the situation outside the treatment room. Whilst alone, I glanced in the mirror, my only view being of my raised and waxed smooth behind and my lower legs.

He returned and began gently caressing the curves of my bum cheeks as I watched, in the reflection, moving in from time to time to gently tease my hole and crack, cock, balls and perineum.

After a while, he determined that there was time for him to begin being serviced. He undid his trousers and slid them down followed by his undies and had soon slotted his hard and very wet cock into my warm and willing mouth. Hungry for cock per se, I once again devoured him, deep throating, tonguing, licking, sucking, swallowing any pre-cum, sucking his balls, and when attached, gently bobbing back and forth, one hand cupping his balls, the other reaching round to clench and feel a bum cheek.

I was merely happy to service him but he was keeping one ear out for the salon door chime ringing, anticipating the arrival of the cocks that may well be joining us soon.

Whether or not they would indeed be joining us though was by no means assumed nor assured. They were also due to be waxed and our last group sex session also resulted in me being waxed, but not them. It was their choice on arrival then as to what happened on this occasion.

When the door chime rang, he promptly pulled out of my mouth, leaving me laid out on the top of the treatment table, essentially just a cock sleeve left ready for being picked up again at will. As he left the room, he was forcing himself back into his undies and jeans.

Laid on my side, alone, my backside having been oiled up already, I looked back in the mirror and played with my own bum crack and hole in the same way he had been doing, before contentedly rolling on to my back, essentially preparing to be imminently used.

Outside, he had invited them, if they wanted, to enter the treatment room whenever they wished and indulge – essentially telling them that if they wanted it, it was there.

He left them outside in reception to return to my side, explaining the options he had given them, i.e., to use me and have me or to decide waxing was more important. He had told them what he would be doing, i.e., that if they elected to join us, they would find he was being sucked by me.

He had quickly uncovered, released and reinserted his cock back into my mouth allowing me to resume servicing him, but I was excitedly anticipating the opening of the door behind me and of them coming in as expected. I was simply there for the taking.

After what must have been a couple of minutes, I heard the door open and in they came, behind me, out of sight.

I was merely attentively continuing to suck my regular cock whilst conscious that they were getting undressed behind me. I wasn’t really conscious of them as people, just that they were cocks that needed servicing. As they undressed, they were idly chit chatting and casually laughing between themselves. I heard things but I wasn’t listening to what they were as I continued to work on the cock inside my mouth, laid on my side on the treatment table.

Ever the sub, I wasn’t leading. I wasn’t making decisions as to what happened to me, how and when. It was only after quite a few more minutes of being serviced that he invited one of the cocks to come around to be sucked.

It didn’t matter which one it was. I made no eye contact above crotch level. My eyes were solely on the hardening cock which approached and entered my eye line. I already had an idea of what I wanted to do to take it and hopped off the treatment table to kneel before it. There was some general commentary as it happened and a hint of surprise in their voices.

Taking it in my mouth, I was acutely conscious of its cool temperature from having been outside in the winter chill. It quickly hardened and warmed in my already worked and ready mouth though.

I overheard a comment from one of the cocks as to how warm my mentor’s cock was. He replied to confirm that it had been very much being serviced by me to get to that state.

My mind was playing back imagery seen in videos on line – the cock sucker kneeling on the floor, hard cocks standing all around – the term being “snake pitting” I believe – and focused on making this fantasy a reality.

As I began servicing cock number two, one hand cupping his balls, I reached up with the other to grab my regular cock and play with it. I was aware that the third cock was standing behind me but wasn’t aware of what it was doing.

My mentor, my regular cock, was then heard to talk about and not to me, praising how well I sucked cock for a what was declared as a straight man. There were murmurs and words of agreement but they were largely lost to me.

As I continued servicing the second cock in my mouth, the first of the two to have joined us, I said to myself that I was actually not straight but bisexual. It mattered little because I was doing what I seemed to be made for – sucking cock.

The cock I was servicing was merely standing there whilst the slut knelt beneath doing its thing. This must have gone on for quite a few minutes.

Eventually though, my mentor decided to switch things up and invited me to get to my feet and allow one of the cocks to fuck me. I didn’t need a second time of asking and quickly stood up and bent over the treatment table facing the full length mirror.

The first of the two other cocks, the one I had been most recently servicing, remained behind me, whilst the other I was yet to begin work on went around the side where my head now was.

Quietly, he slotted into my cock hungry mouth as my third cock of the day. Behind me, my mentor was helping the first of the two cocks to lube me up and take me. 

There was a momentary struggle as physiology and body position was not conducive to penetration, but with a little help, he entered me bareback and started thrusting to begin the spitroast. The power of the thrusts shunted me and the treatment table across the laminate floor causing the need for constant readjustment.

Admittedly, it wasn’t easy for him and after re-entering me again, I adjusted my position to be as accommodating as possible, keen to be soundly fucked, and with distant thoughts of perhaps being finally bred.

Again, the struggle to fuck a 6ft tall sub with long legs seemed tricky for them. I did my best to help and lowered my bum, or raised a leg onto the treatment table and then offered to get on all fours on the floor, saying “Doggy?” as if any kind of clarity was needed. Sadly, being fucked was disappointingly brief. One of the two cocks would fuck me, the one that did, briefly, but the other one would not do that at all – I had previously been informed of that.

My mentor offered assurance that the issues in being able to successfully and soundly fuck the available sub slut were not a problem and suggested that cock number three, the second of the other two, hadn’t been sucked much so directed me to continue servicing it. I knelt down and began doing just that.

[In retrospect, I have since considered that I could have asked the cock that was fucking me to sit on the treatment table edge and for me to sit down upon him and bounce or be thrusted into – hindsight really is a wonderful thing!]

The session then turned into group sex rather than use of the available sub. My second cock, the cock that had just fucked me, was kneeling down at the feet of my mentor and very loudly slurping his cock whilst I was very quietly servicing the other.

I was slightly taken aback but not distracted by how loud the slurping was but was suddenly hit by a pang of jealousy even though I knew that others sucked my regular cock too. He had been invited to get naked, something I had never seen him do before but for which circumstances allowed. As I continued servicing the cock in my mouth, I looked up at my mentor as he was being sucked, perhaps seeking an approving look. He made eye contact and moaned with pleasure.

A few minutes later, and with the resumption of slurping behind me, I was still hungry to be fucked, and still servicing the other cock. With positions changed, I began seductively wiggling my smooth bum as a way of distraction. My mentor picked up on this and drew the attention of it to the other cocks. Suddenly, the focus had returned to using the kneeling sub slut.

I began alternating between my mentor’s cock and the cock I had been most recently servicing, alternate sucks and at one point, with both in my mouth at the same time before returning to just one.

The behaviour of the kneeling bottom wiggling slut led to the cock that had fucked me getting to the floor behind me and soundly fingering my hole whilst I continued servicing his friend.

“Make him cum!” I was urged by my mentor, still leading and controlling the activity. He began masturbating the shaft of the cock in my mouth whilst I sucked the tip of it. I seemed to lack the ability to bring him off as instructed and upped the ante of my cock sucking methods. Either that, or it was just that he was struggling, of senior years to me, to finish.

I pulled off and hung my mouth open off and slightly under his cock tip as he began masturbating to bring himself off into the waiting slut’s mouth.

Behind me, clearly stimulated by the slut’s position and behaviour, the cock that had been fingering and earlier, fucking me, got up and began fiercely, lustfully and ever more noisily masturbating standing above but behind me. A cum slut knows when it is time to collect a load by these noises and I very quickly pulled off the cock I had been servicing and turned to quickly attach as the masturbated cock began to cum. I was quick, but not quick enough and was starting to be covered in hot semen. Suddenly, all three cocks were cumming together, cum flying everywhere, me quickly drinking from the taps, collecting as much as I could in my mouth from each cock as they continued to unload over me and into my mouth. I was increasingly delighted with being cum covered for the first time, three loads either being collected and swallowed or having hit my shoulders, face, chest or crossed legs. These really were the actions of an ever developing, ever more hungry cum slut and I was celebrating being one.

My mentor congratulated his fellow standing cocks for the fact that they had all cum together at the same time. All three were standing above me, cleaning themselves up as I remained in a submissive floor sitting cum slut haze.

I was kindly offered some paper towel to clean the cum off my body. I politely declined. I was too busy constantly wiping three loads of sprayed cum from my face, chest, neck, legs and anywhere else where I could find it on my body, constantly finding more and bringing it to mouth, all the time scanning to ensure not a drop of their loads had hit the floor and had been therefore wasted. I was not disappointed. I had either already swallowed or was covered in every drop of their semen.

General chit chat ensued around me as I completed my cum collection and stood up. They had already begun dressing, ready to leave. Still naked, I lustfully and hornily stated I was still hungry for cum and began masturbating my largely limp and submissive cock. “He likes his cum!” my mentor extolled as my still overtly sexual actions now seemed in stark contrast to what was happening around me. A creamy thick load poured out and pooled into a cupped hand and was soon brought to mouth as a fourth and final load was swallowed. I could so easily have had more were it available – only it wasn’t – more was the pity.

With the slut’s haze having finally lifted, my attention fell to the chit chat in the room. I once again profusely apologised that they had gone without their waxing yet I had received my treatment before their arrival. It didn’t seem to matter given the priority given to them to be quickly booked back in.

The three senior cocks joked amongst themselves that they were “… getting too old for this” before everyone left the room, gratefully thanking me on the way, me thanking them in reply, leaving me to dress alone before I also left and joined them in reception. They were the last communal words spoken that day.

My perception was that we seemed slightly at odds at that point – clothing and apparent normality almost a barrier to acknowledgement of what had just happened behind the closed door of the treatment room – the inner sanctum if you like. My mentor spoke with them, but separately with me, to confirm future appointments. The two other cocks left the premises slightly ahead of me, allowing me, the cock slut, the cum slut, a few seconds with my mentor, to reflect on the last hour and reason that the next appointment, whilst feeling a long way in the future, was really not that far away at all.

We embraced and said farewell and I made my way home, staying discreetly behind and at distance from the other two gentlemen that I still couldn’t really say I knew to look at, because my place had been as a cum slut, at their feet and to collect the total of four loads that were now satisfactorily residing in my stomach and still coating my mouth and throat.

I was there if they wanted it. They certainly wanted it, and had it, and so did I.

Becoming a sex toy

I was very early for my next body wax appointment. So much so that I had to sit in reception in a comfy chair and continued reading a Literotica story about a trained cock sucker who was beginning to service more and more cocks and swallow more and more cum.

Anyway, the start time of my appointment passed by a few minutes when he came to greet me, opened the treatment room door and ushered me in, a hand tenderly and warmly grazing my coated body.

Another of those timestamps in my life had finally come around again. I stripped off and stood, as I usually do, ready, body language indicating availability for use as required.

I must have stood there submissively but alone for a few minutes but acknowledged the return of a full length mirror to the room. My smart phone was not, as usual, tucked away in a coat or trouser pocket but instead, was ledged on a unit top, me hoping for an opportunity to take a first ever shot of me being used, particularly with a cock in my mouth.

I reached for the phone, and, still standing there, resumed scrolling through the same story I had been scrolling through moments before, asking myself all the time but without looking, whether my cock was stirring below at the erotic content and trying to fathom out whether it should or shouldn’t be doing anything but accepting that it wasn’t its place to stir much if at all.

My mind contemplated what to do with the phone when he came in. Should I casually place it on the top of the treatment table to keep it handy to use, or return it to the unit top? When he came in the room, discretion became the better part of valour and I rather unambitiously placed it back on to the unit top.

The default position from the outset at each appointment is to inspect the extent of hair growth across my body and establish what needs removing. This, he duly did, but concluding that, finally, the extent of hair growth did seem to be slowing down before asserting himself to the task in hand, to wax, took the official position that there would be time for play afterwards, if I wanted it.

With a giggle, I asked him if that was a rhetorical question before stretching out on my back as instructed for a chest and underarm wax. The conversation was by no means chit chat, which was, these days, largely consigned to the extreme margins of my appointments and usually only brief. We were, instead, talking about the same prospective cocks as before, one, particularly large and having expressed an interest in being serviced by me at some point. 

He referenced the need to make the logistics work for these sorts of things, i.e., when we would be in the premises alone for what would essentially be a lock in for things to well and truly open up.

He also referenced the two cocks with whom I had my first ever group sex session back in November who were due to be visiting the salon after my next imminent appointment.

He mused over what they would do to me at that time and that, perhaps, the one that struggled to fuck me last time (when I wasn’t in the best position laid on my side on the treatment table with another cock in my mouth), could be in a better position to properly fuck me that time. I replied determinedly positively.

The erotic thoughts were making him hard in his jeans and he encouraged me to seek verification by rubbing his firming crotch.

Whilst I was stretched out, he told me – twice – that I gave the best blow jobs he had ever had – and he emphasised that he had had a few – and that I was the only one with whom he felt confident to stretch out on the treatment table himself and be serviced. He didn’t do that with any other client – he said.

In response, twice, I humbly but gratefully rebuffed the praise saying, as I had done many times before, that I had received absolutely no cock sucking training from anyone or anything in particular.

With the main chest wax done, he sensually smoothed lotion across my torso, sweeping teasingly across my erect nipples.

Then, he asked me to sit up on the edge of the table to tidy up the top of my chest and shoulders. Realising I was slightly out of view of the full length mirror, I audibly acknowledged the piece of furniture to him and shuffled along the edge – fully into view – and sat up straight but opened my legs.

With the tidy up completed, he once more reached for some cooling and moisturising lotion and smeared it across my body, this time, more sexually tweaking both my nipples before applying some to my limp, tiny and largely useless cock even though no waxing happens down there anymore.

The sexual tension began ramping up as he began using his toy once more and ever more intensely. I leant back, hands gripping the edge of the treatment table allowing him to gently reach under my balls, playing with them, moving to my perineum and hole and playing with my still largely limp, lifeless and tiny but ever so slightly stimulated subby cock which generally refused to respond.

He undid and dropped his jeans and dropped his black undies too. His cock – my regular cock – was free, hard and wet for me.

As I sat on the edge of the treatment table, legs spread, cock, balls, hole and body being used however and whenever he wished, I slowly and sensuously caressed and worked his cock with my hands for a few minutes.

My mind was so very much on getting his cock in my mouth though and I had soon hopped off the treatment table, to stand along side in front of the mirror, both of us standing side on to it to take occasional views of the reflection. I was yearning to suck his cock and quickly dropped to my knees, instantly devouring it in the many ways I seem to have learnt.

His cock was fully serviced, sucked, licked, kissed, tongued, pre-cum hungrily and lustfully taken and swallowed with murmurs of approval on my part and his. 

He commented on how good the scene looked in the mirror, reminding me to glance at my reflection – yes – mine – me – no one else – with a cock in my mouth and locked eye contact with myself for the odd split second before returning the focus to front and centre. I deep throated him, nose against his body, and ensuring my breathing was fully under control, held it there for some considerable time, all the while, swirling my tongue around his shaft, him gasping and moaning with pleasure. I drew off and licked down his shaft to his balls, taking one in my mouth and sucking it gently before breaking off again as his cock returned to focus.

Along the way, he beckoned me to stand from my subservient kneeling position in order to save my knees from the hard laminate floor but I responded that I knew my place, that being to kneel at the feet of cock and service it. I did however adjust my position in order to be able to look in the mirror to my right from time to time.

After a few more minutes, he did however get me to stand up, with ideas to use his submissive in another way. He wanted my hole to finger as his lust built through such intense and prolonged cock sucking.

As two cocks were being worked together, mine more or less refusing to be stimulated, ever more merely a useless appendage these days, he bent down to firmly suck my left nipple for a few seconds. I loved it. I was reveling at being so overwhelmingly and lustfully used. This, I concluded, was what I was really meant for. My body was merely there to be used these days and there was quite simply no doubt in my mind whatsoever.

After attending to the nipple to his satisfaction, he rose back up and lustfully kissed and nuzzled my neck, his facial bristles adding to the sensation as his use of my consenting body continued.

Momentarily, I raised a leg on to the treatment table before realising that he was enjoying the view in the mirror behind me so quickly readjusted back. I must have been standing off centre from the mirror reflection as he was craning his neck to see to the edges of it at what he really wanted to see – my admired backside.

He was lusting to have my hole lubricated, indicating that he would round the head of the treatment table, obtain some cream and return. I said that I would join him there as the thought of a mirror reflection of whatever was going to happen became of major interest to me.

I had barely (no pun intended) got round the other side before cream was being spread down my bum crack and to my hole. I bent over to offer him a clear opportunity to complete his work in that moment, but this was a green light for him to take me. I had indicated that I wanted fucking purely by bending over.

I shuffled forward to allow a clear shot of everything in the mirror and bent over again. He was soon inside me and I celebrated the moment by telling him that I just needed fucking in general. The mirror reflected in no uncertain terms that it really was me getting fucked, acknowledging that he was both behind and inside me – bareback. 

After a few minutes, he pulled out, telling me just how tight my hole was and just how much I was making him want to cum inside me.

Again, I said that it was what I generally needed – that I needed flooding with hot semen and be bred for the first time and start being filled on a regular basis. This remained a hard red line for him though, as it had done before. (But one thing he has told me before is that if I consent, other cocks can breed me. Last time there was an opportunity in November, I did not feel that I was ready. Months later, I feel that I am now ready to be bred, although the preference is always to swallow every drop of semen.)

With the briefest of respite, he had taken me again at the same pace that he had before. “Fuck me!” I implored him as my cock and cum slut fuelled fire became a raging Inferno.

His cock had received what he indicated had been a mind blowing blow job and, again, he was edged and close. Again, as he pounded me, he commented on how tight I was. I suggested an element of surprise by telling him how I had been pro-sized plugged for two office days earlier in the week and would be so again the next day. 

After a short while, he pulled out again, for fear of cumming inside me, a) as it was a red line for him but more so b) he wasn’t done yet, but said he still wanted my ass and stretched out on the treatment table, his still hardened cock pointing straight up. Standing with my bum close to his head, diagonal to the treatment table, I plunged back down onto his cock, ass to mouth, the taste of the cream of no real consequence. I was still in an intense slut fuelled haze and absolutely devoured his cock in every way I could muster, deep throating him and clamping my mouth around his shaft, swirling my tongue, one hand cupping and playing with his balls, the other reaching around to clench a bum cheek. I remained cock hungry, breaking off for mere seconds to chastise myself as a cock slut and cum slut, that it was what I was meant to do, that I just wanted to be left naked in a room and have cocks sent to me to service, that servicing cocks was what I was meant to do, and that I could suck cock all day. He replied stating that he would let me do just that given the chance.

As I serviced him, I was aware he was almost devouring my hole with his fingers, loud pats to open me up followed by verbally celebrating that I was taking three fingers. I nonchalantly emphasised the extent to which I was becoming an anal slut by reiteraing that I had been pro-sized plugged for two days so far that week and would be so again the following day.

His desperation to cum appeared to be mounting and he sat up on the edge of the treatment table and began fiercely masturbating. I urged him to “shoot it straight down my throat” and kept my hungry mouth open just in front of him, looking up to make eye contact as a desperate cum slut. I wasn’t going to close my mouth as I wanted, for the first time, a load to be shot in rather than erupting within as had always been the case.

I had clearly been watching too many on line videos of sluts being fed cum in this way. He had almost denied himself from cumming too soon, telling me that he was enjoying the moment too much, and didn’t want to cum yet, but seemed as if he must cum too.

He stood up, becoming unsteady on his feet with it, as I continued my cum hungry, kneeling position, so fired up at the prospect of having a load shot into my slut mouth that I was leaking pre-cum, acknowledging it whilst my open mouth continued to hang below his cock as he frantically masturbated it to give his slut what it wanted, needed and craved.

I quickly and desperately cupped a hand underneath my cock to collect the drops of pre-cum and instantly brought them to mouth to lick up each time I was aware of leakage. 

Of senior years than me, he was tiring, yet desperate for the sexual onslaught to continue. He knew the safe word but seemed extremely reluctant to use it this time.

Continuing to tire, he returned to sitting on the side of the treatment table, still masturbating vigourously. “Cum for me!”, and “Give me your cum!” I whispered sluttily from my continuing submissive kneeling position, still hanging my mouth in front of his cock tip, open and ready to feel a jet or two hit the back of my throat and flood my tongue.

Finally, he seemed on the edge and I knew I didn’t want to waste a single drop of his load. He came heavily. I sensed that some of his load had hit my face but I had quickly latched on to his cock to collect the majority, his body convulsions and my body position causing him to withdraw from my mouth as he came, me quickly reattaching to collect more semen.

He seemed to continue ejaculating for some time, having been edged for most of the preceding hour in one way, shape or form. I recall him asking if it was good and I murmured approvingly as his semen swirled around in my mouth before sliding down my throat, every single sensation relished. I attentively kept an eye on his cock tip and briefly reattached to lick, suck and clean him like an obedient sub.

Load swallowed, I was not done, and declaring myself as still a cum hungry slut, brought off my semi erect cock – hardened by the thought of a load being shot into my mouth – into a cupped hand, the volume and extent of pumping causing just a little to fly off and fall to the floor.

I slurped up my load at which point, the slut fuelled cum slut haze finally began to lift. He was spent and I was deeply concerned for him for a few moments. He had not used the safe word and had clenched his teeth and had his eyes held tightly closed. I asked him if he was OK and whether he was sure about it. He confirmed as such and, as he got up, once again, said that there was money to be made from my cock sucking skills.

I knelt below him and, having torn a piece of paper from the treatment table cover, obediently and attentively cleaned the floor of my cum drops. 

Meanwhile, he was celebrating the end of another ever more increasingly intense sex session with his sex toy and left the room extolling as such with audible gasps and the odd descriptive words, leaving me to contemplate the two fresh loads of semen now residing in my stomach, the fresh taste of cum still coating my mouth and throat, and nonchalantly celebrating being such a cock and cum slut these days.

After a quick check around, and checking in the mirror for any signs of cum on my face, having a quick wipe around anyway and clearing what I concluded was some dried residue, I joined him in reception where he was still in recovery mode, but the explicit sex chat loudly continued much to my surprise – so much so that I effectively missed what he said, before assuming that his staff had left for the day. I should have known better as he knows when he needs to talk quietly out there. 

He looked ahead to the next and imminent appointment at which waxing would continue but the mention of the appointment was absolutely soaked with the pretense of me being used by the same two cocks with which I had my first ever group sex session back in November.

There didn’t seem to be any doubt that this would happen as they were (strategically) scheduled in by him as the next appointment after me so things would overlap.

Future appointments were also booked, the undercurrent being about the cocks that could be available, also being a further step towards me merely becoming a sex toy – that is, if I’m not one already.

I left for him to make his own way home, but not before checking he was OK again.

An appointment for sex

As I have frequently said before, my appointments for a body wax are the time stamps through which my life seems to run and revolve around.

I’ve been going to them for a number of years and whilst I have continued to experience dysphoria about my body and the amount of hair growing on it, there is, it seems – or at least, I would like to think – increasingly less, that growth is ever slowing through continuous sending of messages to the roots of each and every single follicle each and every time it is getting pulled out, making it weaker and weaker.

This was, at least, the conclusion when I arrived for my last appointment. Sure. I had hair growth and wanted rid of it, but absolutely none of it ended up being removed at this one.

On arrival – early as usual – I was soon in the winter-chill lifting warmth and familiar surroundings of the treatment room, spa music playing, the treatment table freshly laid with towels and a paper sheet.

I had soon somewhat excitedly stripped off before hovering over the heater in the corner of the room, my naked bum making the most of the warmth which rose up into the room.

It wasn’t long before he came in, and sought to establish what part of my body needed waxing on this occasion. As it turned out, nothing was ready for waxing. A sign of progress – perhaps.

The necessity for hands to roam across my body to check hair growth quickly morphed into something more sensual and sexual once more, and merely akin to a sub being used by its mentor. His utterance of a prior intention to be “good” that day, evaporated equally quickly, seemingly finding my presented, naked and evidently available body, language for which not so much spoke, more screamed to be used.

The hours in the build up to the appointment had not included a text to hint at the inclusion of other, new or previous cocks this time around. At the appointment, as the intensity of the moment built, the subject was broached.

The need for discretion with staff in the rest of the site and, in any case, the non-availability of said other cocks was made clear but there was reference to an enquiry having been made as to the interest level of a new discreet cock, and a reportedly big one at that, plus the return of the two cocks with whom I had enjoyed my first ever group sex session back in November. There was also emphasis on provision of cocks per se, going forward.

I made suitable approving noises to indicate my interest, no, willingness for circumstances to align in my favour.

The hands of his fully clothed body continued to roam across my naked submissive and ever more willing body.

I was standing with my back to him, facing the treatment table. Fully clothed, he moved closer behind and dry humped me a few times, almost a precursor to what might be ahead. I responded by pressing my bum against his crotch to feel his ever building hardness, all the while with his hands roaming, holding my hips, and reaching around to caress my upper torso and flick my nipples, or to reach down to my legs and inner thighs.

Waxing was becoming a necessary but less important part of my appointments, which, over recent months; have become appointments for sex, or, to be clear, my submissive body to be used for sex.

I made some remark – the exact phraseology now forgotten – about looking forward to sucking cock increasingly more so these days, and specifically, his.

This utterance was a sea of green lights to him and, as a result, he said that I had better do just that then. Previously, he’d have unbuckled his belt and slid his trousers and undies down, but the work of a power bottom was evident, by his leaning against the wall, a clear indication that, as I wanted his cock in my mouth, I was going to have to get it myself.

For a moment, once I had undone his belt, I worried as to whether I would be able to undo his jeans button which, let’s be honest, would have offered some hilarity.

The struggle was brief though and with a brief utterance from me of an upwards inflected “Hmm!?”, his button was popped, his zip was down and his jeans had fallen to the floor.

I don’t remember his undies being pulled down. All I know is, I was soon sliding my hungry, warm mouth over his shaft and beginning work to service him once more, kneeling submissively beneath him.

This wasn’t just about the mouth work but what my hands could do too, cupping his balls with one, appreciating his smooth bum cheeks with the other. Occasionally, I would change position ever so slightly so as to take his length in more fully, to ambitiously deep throat him, all the while, my tongue allowed to swirl around his frenulum, cock tip and slit. Up and down, back and forth, kissing, sucking, licking, grabbing his hips, or reaching up under his top to play with his nipples.

Occasionally, I would pull off to take one of his balls into my mouth and gently suck one, releasing before kissing and nuzzling my way to the other, and throughout the servicing of his cock, offering submissive eye contact – holding the gaze until he looked down to watch me looking at him as my mouth bobbed backwards and forwards.

Every now and again, he would treat the cumslut working below him to drips of pre-cum, pre-empting the imminent feed to make sure his cumslut was ready to take it. It certainly was, the slut relishing the regular treats it was getting more of these days as reward for the skills it was regularly told it had.

Several minutes had passed in deep and concentrated cock service, when he suddenly instructed me to get to my feet, elaborating that he was keen to rest my knees from the hard laminate flooring.

He sat on the edge of the treatment table, his cock pointing firmly up towards me but instead, he drew me in closely, and, without words, indicated me to join cocks together, his rock hard, recently sucked, next to mine, only able to muster a semi, and encouraged me to frot them. This didn’t happen for long as my mind was very firmly on getting his firm cock back in my mouth. I had soon stood to one side and bent over to take him again. His hands continued to roam around my body, feeling my backside, reaching under to play with my cock and balls whilst, all the time, relishing the service his cock was being given.

Ever the slut, I raised the leg nearest the treatment table as I worked, allowing him more room to use his submissive, fingering it, and, using a few held together fingers, patting my hole to loosen it up further.

Minutes later, my mind wandered towards penetration. I lifted up, turned my back to him and drifted very closely in front of him, feigning dropping on to his still rock hard and protruding glistening cock, but instead, wiggling my bum seductively, and spreading my legs before leaning up against the wall, arms spread above, bum stuck out towards him.

He was like a moth to a flame, quickly reaching for some cream, deftly and quickly smearing it down my bum crack and hole to prepare it for the onslaught it had seemingly earnt or was just going to get as a presenting slut anyway.

The word ‘slut’ falls ever more regularly into my vocabulary these days and would be evident in the minutes to come.

He took his sub again and began attentively fucking it bareback as had been the case many times before. I made approving noises and implored him to “fuck me” but otherwise kept a focus on feeling every thrust. I was loving it. This, I reasoned, was my true place, my inner most secret desire as I began descending into another fuck slut bottom fuelled haze.

I thought to myself that I could take any amount of being fucked, for as long as possible, but, his cock had been well and truly serviced before he began fucking me and, he had already fed me with plenty of pre-cum in the minutes before. He was therefore close.

He pulled out for a few seconds before being seemingly unable to resist taking me again with ease. A few minutes later, he pulled out again saying that he was about to fill me with his load and what would have been the first ever load to have been pumped inside me.

“To hell with the consequences” I brazenly and carelessly thought but my reply was one of saying that it really was about time I was filled with cum. It was just not destined to be his, for him, the continuing and very hard line over doing that, as hard as his cock.

He had soon stretched out on the treatment table, his still hard cock pointing straight up. I didn’t need asking and plunged back down on him again, ass to mouth, intensely and intently working him in every conceivable way, shaft licked, tongued and sucked, balls patted, base occasionally gripped when I wasn’t deep throating him.

The cock serving freshly fucked slut was on fire, openly telling him in the brief moments that I was not sucking him, that I was now a “slut”, “cum slut”, “cock slut”, and a hungry “bottom” that had, in fact been pursued by several cocks on line in the days previous (via the site he had suggested I signed up to in order to service more cock), that meets seemed to getting ever closer and that one of the pursuing cocks wanted to rim me at an anticipated meet.

Twice, in quick succession, in the throws of being serviced, he almost seemed to implore me to “Be careful”. The two words were sufficient for me to understand yet insufficient at the same time. “Hmm?” I replied, filing the subject matter for a point in the aftermath in order to read up. Either way, he didn’t elaborate but he was being distracted by having his cock intensely serviced and there was still a load to be collected.

As I worked, one of his hands was reaching down to play with my ever so slightly stimulated but mostly limp and ever more useless cock. He was making me cum and quite quickly too and I didn’t want to do so as my focus remained very clearly on bringing him off into my hungry mouth. I drew away from his hand which indicated, rather bluntly that I wanted him to stop but this was solely out of the aim to fully service him.

In a moment at which my mouth was not on his cock, he began almost desperately masturbating to reach his end. I hovered my mouth above and told him not to waste it and where I wanted it.

He knew though. He knew alright. He knew the cum slut wanted its reward – every single drop of his load – swallowed.  He pledged to let me know when he was about to cum and moments later, he instructed me to take him back into my mouth and suck slowly.

Seconds later, his body convulsed and his load powered out and into my enveloping mouth. Every possible sensation was strained to feel it hit the back of my throat and rain back down as I continued to plunge up and down his still hardened shaft. His body continued to convulse as the load reached its end. I remained close by his cock tip, watching it closely and reattaching to collect every single last drop, licking the last drips from him – absolutely nothing allowed to be wasted.

Pushing these boundaries of his senior years compelled him, the mentor, the top, the arguable Dom, to once again fall to the use of the previously agreed but often forgotten safe word. The utterance of this word to his freshly fucked and cum happy slut instantly lifted a fair proportion of my drive to service his cock, but as he began to recover, I sensed he was paying significant attention to me as I began working my still mostly flaccid cock, hunger for semen yet to diminish. After a few moments, I told him that I was going to cum and, determined not to let a single drop fall to the floor, focused on keeping my hand cupped and my fingers held together.

Stimulated by previous days of being lingerie clad, locked in chastity and plugged, with only drips of pre-cum having left my balls to be licked up and swallowed, the mind also regularly stimulated by explicit videos seen on social media, and so with a heavy pent up load, I came heavily and prolonged, jet after jet, into my hand. 

In his prostrate position, recovering from his prolonged period of having his cock serviced, this time, he was in no way able to reach for any tissue. He knew better. He had, over time, helped to create a cum slut and that very cum slut was, without any hesitation, swallow every single drop of his load. Absolutely nothing was wasted, my hand licked clean, attentively in between the fingers, rolling the hand over to collect anything that had run on to that side. No paper towel was needed. The cum slut was, once again, for the time being at least, satiated.

Now able to get to his feet, he once again said that there was money to be made from my cock sucking skills and referenced the other cocks he had in mind before leaving me alone in the room to dress and join him in reception.

His focus was on the next already booked appointment a month away. However, I, on the other hand, had my calendar open on my smart phone and made no secret of the fact that I was seeking something sooner than that, knowing that absolutely no waxing had been done that day and that I would definitely be ready, but that, today N it merely been an appointment for sex.

With tones hushed, he reiterated the options for cocks to be strategically brought in when discretion and privacy could be assured and found a date in the interim, waxing to be done of course first, but as much as possible in available time – before those cocks arrived.

The lines of crossdressing and chastity have never crossed into salon time. He may suspect but it has never been talked about. As he no longer waxes my bits, thoughts have turned to going into a future appointment locked in my tiny chastity device. After all, as a submissive, my cock was of little use today, so might as well be locked up next time.

Anticipated lust

NSFW

As ever, I was counting down the weeks, days and then hours until my next appointment at the salon, two weeks of contentment at my smooth body having elapsed as regrowth came through, the job then being to avoid getting too hung up about it, get on with life and just work towards the appointment day.

24 hours became 6, 4, 2, 1 and within that hour, I was on my way and had soon arrived early – as I like to do – every step from the car park, building up the anticipation of what was to come.

Sure enough, on arrival, he confirmed that I had perfect timing and had soon beckoned me into the warm and snug treatment room, a hand grazing my body on the way in.

I had soon stripped off and stood waiting for only a few seconds. He strode in and was soon close by behind me, his hands instantly roaming across my body under a partial veil of assessing hair growth, which, although it had some standing, seemed to have practically none on this occasion, the air heavy and heady with carnal lust.

I responded by opening my legs as I stood for him to play with my body further and more intimately. He drew in tight behind me, him fully clothed, his arms reaching round, sweeping across my body, flicking over my nipples and occasionally grabbing and squeezing them whilst pressing his crotch into me.

Dom leading sub, he then repositioned me so that everything was in full view of the full length mirror as he continued to use my submissive, willing and naked body in the same way, me occasionally grinding my bum back towards him as I watched in the mirror, as he continued using his sub, play including the odd moment of splaying my bum cheeks that he clearly wanted more sight of.

He span me round, our bodies beginning to intertwine, him nuzzling my neck, me pecking his cheek and returning the very tight embrace, him taking delight in the view of and ability to freely play with my naked body and bum that only he could see in the mirror and that I could only wonder about.

Breathily, he whispered how much he had been looking forward to the appointment. I replied similarly as the sexual tension levels increased.

My mind was ever more focused on his cock and a spare hand moved to begin rubbing his hardened crotch over his still zipped and fastened jeans.

He seemed unable to hold the foreplay back and had soon undone his jeans, quickly dropping them to the floor. I felt his hardened cock through his undies, then reached under the material to grab his length, but the black undies were also soon dispensed with. The next few minutes were filled with us still held tightly together, his upper torso fully clothed, but otherwise naked from the waist down, me, totally naked, frotting or sword fighting our cocks, mine, only semi erect, being tapped on his, much to his evident satisfaction telling me that it felt good. His heavy breathing was very apparent in such close proximity.

In my head, I was wondering how much longer I could resist going down on him. It probably wasn’t long before I had dropped to my knees and relished the moment that his cock tip and length slipped into my mouth for me to begin working on it, intently and for as long as I possibly could, just lusting for a cock to suck. I was completely focused on the task.

Nothing else seemed to matter. One hand reached around to squeeze a bum cheek, the other cupping and playing with his balls, or stroking his perineum, my mouth gorged around his cock, occasionally gripping more tightly around the shaft, whilst my tongue swirled around his cock tip, slit and frenulum.

Deep within my cock sucking haze, I was suddenly brought to my partial senses by being lifted from the ground, and turned around. My body seemed heavy and reluctant in the moment that he lifted.

He wanted to kiss me deeply to taste his cum in my mouth. As before, I didn’t fully commit to this act for reasons that are gradually ebbing away, becoming more willing in this moment as my bisexuality intensified. He spoke enough to suggest that the kiss exchanged was enough for him to taste his own pre-cum in my mouth.

Having been lifted from my kneeling position, I seemed to know what was coming and for the first time, it was not me instigating it, but somehow, I had earned it.

I didn’t look directly, but I was conscious that he was reaching for some cream from the nearby stand of lotions and potions. Then, he was slipping it between my bum cheeks.

I seemed to be ushered to bend over the treatment table in full view of the full length mirror and duly complied without any real thought whatsoever. He quickly positioned himself behind and guided his cock inside me before beginning intently fucking me, his pace and rhythm increasing as the cream lubricated my willing hole. I remember quietly whispering that I was just a hole to fuck and otherwise verbalised how good it felt to be finally fucked again.

I don’t remember doing anything other than maintaining the bent over position, him, hands on my hips, pulling me back onto his shaft as he repeatedly entered me. I reveled in the sound of my wet hole being pounded, reminded of recent videos seen on line in which that ‘slap, slap, slap’ sound could be heard. Now, I really was being well and truly fucked.

I was getting heavily pounded – everything so visible in the reflection of the full length mirror, almost too much to take in and savour.

After a few minutes, he pulled out, and paused for a moment but then seemed to miss the sensation of having his cock in my hole and, after reaching for some more cream, lubed me back up again and took me again, the intensity of his bareback fucking increasing. In my mind, I was craving for him to grab my phone camera and take a first ever shot of me being fucked but I decided it was best not to although I alluded to the desire by saying “I bet that looks hot!”. He was too busy intently fucking me to reply.

His willingness to simply fuck me seemed in stark contrast to a declaration he had made many months ago that he would never fuck me for what I knew were acceptable reasons, but, being fucked for what was the sixth time in total and the fourth since May this year, my conclusion is that my oral skills over a number of subsequent appointments and the extent of ever deepening intimacy between us had left him in a different state of mind, and one in which he could no longer resist the opportunity.

He seemed to fuck me hard for a good few minutes before declaring that he was close to filling me with his load – something he didn’t want to do nor had ever done for what are probably quite a few rational reasons. In my mind, I agreed, yet I also wanted it shot deep into me for the first time and make a fantasy become a reality.

In actual reality, it seemed that he didn’t want to cum yet anyway, and I didn’t really want him to either.

My mind was still very firmly (no pun intended) on his cock and within seconds, I was deep throating him again, having gone ass to mouth, working his balls and bum with my hands.

He was seemingly tiring and sat on the edge of the treatment table, once again, stating that he must get more cocks for me to service. As I knelt to continue the most extensive period of oral performed to date, I hungrily and lustfully pleaded with him to sort this. Again, I made eye contact from my submissive position, him looking down to meet the glance in between rolling his head back with pleasure as the unrelenting cock sucking continued. In the mirror as I gazed left, I could just about see my head bobbing in and out of his crotch and savoured the view that it was me being a slut and sucking cock once more.

He repositioned, and laid flat out on the treatment table. He felt I could see in the mirror. The reality was that I couldn’t but it didn’t matter to me – I just still needed his cock in my mouth.

I instantly resumed, plunging up and down it, pausing only to say that I could do it all day, him replying stating that he’d be happy for me to suck his cock all day.

As I worked, I stood diagonally to him, but close to his head and hands, allowing him a full view of my bum and the ability to finger fuck me or work my cock, causing pre-cum to begin working its way out. Little was said apart from an utterance of satisfaction on his part that I was taking three fingers. I hadn’t noticed. I pleased him further by telling him how I had been plugged at work for the preceding two days. He made approving noises. Internally, I was fighting his urge to pump my cock, drawing away by slightly repositioning, as I knew he was starting to make me cum and didn’t want the come down yet. I repeatedly reached down to catch the drips before rubbing my semen on his cock to suck it off whilst fighting the urge to fully ejaculate.

His load seemed to become a focus and he seemed to want to give it me as soon as possible, vigourously beginning to wank himself off. I wanted a full load in my mouth with absolutely no wastage and kept my mouth as close to his cock tip as I could, telling him that I wanted every drop.

Moments later, he urged me to suck slowly before his load shot into my mouth and pooled at the front of it, his entire body convulsing as he came. After maintaining connection for a few seconds to ensure every drop had been collected, spent, he uttered the safe word once more as I lifted up, keeping the load pooled and savoured in my mouth for a few seconds before being unable to resist satisfactorily swallowing it.

Satisfied that I had indeed had every single drop of his heavy load, I was in a lustful cum hungry haze and through semi gritted teeth, said how much of a “fucking hot tasty load” it was before craving more and soon came heavily myself into a cupped hand. For a moment, I fought with the option to not swallow my load before lifting it to snaffle the pool of creamy semen up and licking both sides of my hand clean – a cock and cum slut to the very end.

There was little to clean up beyond that but as he redressed, insisted, once again, that I must have had some cock sucking training adding that there was money to be made from my oral skills. Again, I insisted that I had not had any training whatsoever.

I stretched out, face down on the treatment table, my cock still leaking on to the paper roll drawn out over the towels, as the waxing began – almost to justify the reason for me being at the appointment, general chit chat coming in stark juxtaposition to the intense and prolonged period of sex that had gone before.

Job done as far as possible, I dressed and joined him in outside in reception where sex talk centered around the options in his mind over a new cock – my second – of potentially many to come it seems – to be contacted with a view to joining the next appointment. I was reminded that he sees me as a ‘power bottom’, i.e., that I will not simply be there and take what is given to me, but will interact. I knew in my head that but I was certainly a willing sub – to suck and to be fucked with anticipated and insatiable lust.

Getting to the bottom of things

NSFW
I have enjoyed two sessions at the salon in quick succession to ensure that I am completely body waxed smooth – a point in my life at which I am the absolute most contented, and, even though that state doesn’t last very long, as hair growth pushes back through again, I have, admittedly, over the last few weeks, noted a slow down in growth on certain parts of my body, which I hope remains the case.

Last week, I was available for use as sub to my self-described male mentor, in between periods of waxing, servicing his cock over a sustained period, him having to keep himself fully aware of agreed ‘safe words’ along the way because of my ever more intense cum and cock hungry nature.

Having reached a point historically whereby he was, I’m sure, booking more time for appointments, and at key parts of the day where play and sex could be more prominent, and more time was available without being disturbed, it has now reached a point where he is stating quite clearly that he is doing that because of the nature of the service that his protege gives him. This man has, with my fullest consent, trained his product up, brought out its inner sexuality, its true desires, its abilities, its darkest secrets and helped it smash through barrier, after barrier, after barrier.

Sex is becoming ever more intense, closer, more erotic, more protracted, more overt, more sexual, more intimate, deeper, for longer, more lustful, more craved, with more hunger and I continue to open up when naked in his company.

The latest appointment saw me do the usual. It has long since NOT been the case where I will simply undress and stretch out on the treatment table for waxing to commence. Although this is what will ultimately happen, I will, instead, stand, ready. Sex is now the focus, waxing is a necessary distraction.

My body is naturally checked as to what needs doing, but this has moved from being a necessity for that reason alone, to instantly getting to grips with his ever more willing, naked and available sub.

Nevertheless, I had ultimately stretched out for him to begin working on, the need to wax my legs requiring me to open them, my limp, but now eternally smooth cock and my recently smoothed bum and hole spotlighted in plain view. Like a teasing slut, I determined that I would let him move my legs into a straight position in the event he needed to do so before quickly returning them to the open position as soon as possible. Again, as he worked, he whispered words of approval as to how good the imagery looked from his stand point, my hands behind my head so that he could wax underarms too as he worked , the more my body was waxed smooth, the more openly submissive I became.

His body would occasionally need to be pushed up against me as he reached over the treatment table, and, once I’d moved my arms to the side of my body, was able to feel his hardening cock as I continued to tease him with my provocative body positioning, beginning to more intently rub his crotch.

He continued to work on removing the last vestiges of hair on my body at this time, applying cream and lubricating his subject up, hands passing across my upper torso, across my nipples, my ever more smooth state increasing my state of overall arousal and submission, grazing his hands between my legs, across my hole and perineum. He said that, professionally, he should be seeking consent in such a situation but I said I was there to be used, and that he could help himself as was the unspoken understanding.

He then asked me to flip over on to my front to wax the back of my legs. He had, again, somehow, removed his trousers and this time, his underwear, not through the Summer heat, because of the sexual heat which was beginning to simmer in the room. Up on my elbows, I was scanning my outer range of vision to my side, looking for signs of his erect cock under his T-shirt and any naked flesh. Waxing was complete. Cream was to be applied. I seductively gave my smooth waxed bum the odd wiggle and eventually rose up on to all fours, but head down to kiss and suck the tip of his cock which was pointing up at me. His cock tip was teeming with wet, glistening, sweet tasting pre-cum and, as a result, I lost focus on how he was using me otherwise as his cock came ever further into focus. I was so very hungry for his cock.

Soon, I had laid down on my side and gorged on his length, up and down, slow, steady movements, deep throating on regular occasions, pulling back his foreskin to kiss and suck his frenulum, tonguing his pre-cum soaked slit, one hand reaching around to grab a smooth bum cheek, the other, cupping and gently playing with his balls, seeking to make and occasionally making eye contact with him, on the moments when his head was not rolled back in pleasure. He was occasionally reaching down to masturbate my flaccid cock, or reach around to finger fuck my hole, me scissoring my free leg open every now again, completely submissive, completely open, completely there to be used, his fingers loudly patting my hole from time to time to open me up further.

My cock service was unrelenting, my hunger to suck it, insatiable. His pleasure was evident as he relished being served so determinedly, so continuously. I remember him saying that he must get some more cocks for me and I hungrily muttered a response of approval as I worked.

Aware of the need to finish off select parts of my waxing treatment, he did something else that he’d never done before – standing me up to wax the top of my chest, me pinned up against the side of the treatment table. With the task in hand done, he applied some cream before drawing in close, my body being his to use as he saw fit, or how it was offered to him. We were intimately close, our bodies almost entwined, on the cusp of a passionate kiss, yet my head was dropped low to watch him use me, nipples firmly tweaked and body caressed. Without word, after one of my hands had been gripping and gently playing with his cock, he beckoned me to frot us both, which I duly did so for a minute or two.

Sex between us was getting more intense than it had ever done before, lust completely enveloping us both, me there to be used, to serve. I lifted his T-shirt and began playing with his nipples whilst I was still pinned, standing, to the side of the treatment table.

My mind seemed hell-bent on turning around, yet I seemed to hesitate for a minute or two. But. ultimately, this was something that I was going to do and I slowly, seductively, and anticipatedly turned around to bend over the treatment table. I was eager, willing and there to be fucked and he was unable to resist after I had seemingly pressed all of his buttons. His cock was like a moth to a flame and having added copious amounts of any cream he could reach on the stand to his side, he positioned himself and took me from behind.

In my recent home play session where I had ruined from anal from a 6″ dildo for the first time, I had resorted to chastisement, calling myself a number of ‘names’. With the hustle and bustle of the rest of the business outside the treatment room, I breathily and quietly implored him to “Fuck me“, and that I just needed fucking.

He fucked me, everything played out in the full length mirror in front of us, his hands on my hips, his body thrusting again and again in and out of my willing, wet hole, me backing onto his cock with every thrust, feeling his length open me up over and over again. My carnal lust was overflowing, a fuck slut in total submission, being pounded, again and again. I uttered the phrases “cock slut” and “cum slut” as I had done in my first ever private ruin session at home a few weeks previously and that I just needed to fucked but whilst he seemed to partially object to the dirty talk, and uttered something or other than I didn’t get in my fuck slut haze, he wasn’t deterred and continued to fuck me rapidly.

After a short while, he withdrew for a moment, paused, reapplied some more lubrication, and guided himself back into me again before resuming pounding his property, his hole, his bottom, his toy, yet to be probed by other cocks, but soon, it seemed, very much for it at his behest. Again and again, he drove in and out of me, all the time, me as the fuck slut bottom watching in the mirror working with every thrust, and simply insatiably taking it until he had to pull out again, this time, having come the closest ever to filling me with his load, and telling me he had been very close, something that had not happened to date.

Somewhat flippantly, and without any real clarity, as I turned around, I said that “it” had to happen at some point, but what I meant was, more generally, i.e., that someone would have to start filling me with their load at some point, but there was no time for clarity to be asserted. In my mind, I reached out briefly to my darkest fantasy to be repeatedly filled, both ends, with load after load from alpha cocks.

My mind was still hungry for semen, but also for serving his cock but this lust-infused session showed no signs of slowing. He perched on the edge of the treatment table with his legs spread. Without hesitation, I went ass to mouth on his cock, the taste of the oils and creams instantly picked up in my mouth as I went back down on him, kneeling on the floor before him, cock being sucked, eye contact being made, again, when his head was not rolling back with pleasure. Again, every possible method was applied to service his cock, and after a few minutes, he pulled out of my mouth and began masturbating.

I momentarily licked his cock tip as he worked and hungrily hung my open mouth below it, whispering, almost pleading to him not to miss and to shoot his load straight down my throat. Then, clearly about to cum, he appealed to me to suck him slowly. Naturally, I complied. Within a few seconds, his creamy load poured into my mouth as I continued to work up and down his shaft, remembering, this time, to pool his semen within, holding it, savouring the texture and flavour, but I did feel a quantity of his heavy load slip down my throat whilst I held the rest of the contents as they continued to empty from his ejaculating cock, before I finally and very satisfactorily swallowed the lot down into the pit of my stomach. Then, came the breathily uttered, and recognised safe word – he was, again, totally spent yet I had demonstrated a hunger for more where there was little more to be found.

Naturally though, I withdrew, but not before licking the last remnants of his load from his cock tip.

Still entirely full of cum hungry lust and sex craved, I told him how much of a “fucking hot and tasty load” it was, the almost gritted teethed insatiably filthy whisper, clearly demonstrating how much I had enjoyed it, before slipping down to sit on the floor, my legs folded beneath me. I was still in a cum and fuck fuelled haze and began masturbating my mostly flaccid cock until I came heavily into a cupped hand, only a small amount falling away between my folded legs beneath.

I was aware that he was tearing up the paper sheet from the treatment table and using it to clean himself up. As I came, I was aware of him standing very tight up, close behind me, lovingly helping and nurturing his sub to climax, stroking my head with a hand and pulling my head back to his legs as he towered dominantly above me, whilst acknowledging with delight how heavy my load had been.

But at the same time, I felt that he was also preparing to pass me some shredded paper towel to blot up the load that had spilled into my hand but I was having none of it, and instantly brought the cupped hand to mouth and swallowed a second load, the only drop cleaned up otherwise with the paper towel being the one that had dropped to the floor between my legs.

The carnal lust-fuelled haze seemed to lift from me fairly swiftly after that, but not before he told me, again, that there was money to be had in my cock sucking skills and that, although he had experienced a number of blow jobs, none came close to those I perform on him.

He continued to revel in the service he had been given. I smugly apologised for having to send him home to his partner in such a drained state.

For a minute or two, as some minor clean ups continued, I modestly rebuffed his high praise stating that, I had no other cock sucking experience, only that of sucking his cock for the last five years, and that, whilst I am well read as a person and tend to soak up certain information like a sponge, what I was doing was simply just what I was doing. He continued to offer what he clearly felt was due praise, then left me to dress and join him at reception, slightly unsteady on his feet, of slightly more years than my own having had need for the safe word.

I was soon dressed whilst reveling, smugly, in what had just happened, proud that my hole was freshly fucked, and with the taste of two loads of semen nestling in my stomach and lingering in my mouth and throat, yet, somehow, I just still wanted more, without rationalising either how or when.

Joining him at the reception desk outside, he remained unsteady from being serviced. We had certainly got to the bottom of things, and, booking appointments ahead, he made sure that there would be plenty of time for those sessions to get to the bottom of things again, next time around.

All of that, and he STILL doesn’t know about my lingerie crossdressing and chastity – more revelations for another time.

Revelations

Another body waxing appointment was hugely anticipated and, as usual, I was counting the days and then hours – a reflection of how much of a major part they are in my life for my well being as well as my sexual development.

As it turned out, he was also anticipant of my arrival. As usual, I arrived early, every stride increasing the anticipation of what might happen.

On arrival, he – my self described mentor – sprung out of his chair, hailing my arrival and stating that he was thinking that he could do with me turning up, and there I was!

He ushered me into the treatment room and left me to it for a few minutes. Hot late Summer weather meant I was soon naked though, shorts, a T-shirt and sandals being my only items of clothing.

In my naked state, I calmly paced around the treatment table for a few minutes, anticipating his entrance, briefly checking myself in the full length mirror and equally briefly, splaying my bum cheeks for some reason.

He was soon back with me, the veil for what lay ahead being in the form of checking my body to establish what needed waxing on this occasion, but taking full advantage of my naked, ready, willing and available state of use.

My hair growth patterns seem to have reached a point which has left me quite surprised in some respects yet continually frustrated in others. He determined that my back and bum were on the cusp of being ready but vowed to get on with the job in hand. I lay down on my front before the talc was liberally sprinkled to dry any moisture from the warm car journey and exterior heat.

Some heartfelt chit chat was exchanged as usual but this always seemed a precursor to something else – word foreplay if you like.

I was anticipating the point at which it was necessary to lift on to his favourite position – all fours – and took pleasure in adhering to his request to assume it when asked, head down, leaning on my elbows, bum up. The intimate part of the wax was completed.

In a salon first, and having not dressed for a hot day, in a move to cool off, he felt the need and comfortable enough in my company – not just another client – to remove his shoes and jeans and was working on me wearing only his undies on his lower half. Occasionally, he acknowledged the arguable naughtiness as he pressed his covered but firming cock against my body – his firmness having already been helped by me feeling his cock through his jeans before they were removed, his excitable state quick to become apparent almost seconds after I was on site.

He made a point of telling me how good my bum looked in its submissive raised position seen to him in the full length mirror at his end of the room.

This was at least an amber light to open up further to him sexually. I hesitated as a semi awkward silence fell across the room as he worked on me. He then reached for the moisturising/cooling cream, and started on my back before moving to my equally smoothly waxed bum.

I was distracted from what he was doing whilst plucking up the courage to begin opening up to him, and by the time I had begun doing so, perhaps he too had become distracted.

Not usually lost for words, I eventually found the opening few which referenced how much action that bum of mine had actually had in the preceding ten days or so. The rest seemed to fall out of my mouth with ease.

I regaled him with the time spent in the office when required to work there, fitted with a Lovense Hush plug, describing how random people can connect to and control it before moving on to detail the first of three dildo rides whilst working alone at home. Finding myself able to ruin from anal for the first time ever, and then on two subsequent occasions, firstly, heavily and openly, and clearing up the load, hand to mouth, then over other days, secondly and thirdly into a condom on my limp cock, contents then unloaded into my mouth from the upturned condom, the details were explicitly yet simply put.

As I explained what had been happening, I was aware of his encouraging reactions, intakes of breath, words and other noises of amazement and surprise before alluding to the power of a stimulated prostate and indicating how it had aroused him, adding how much he liked the loss of inhibitions.

His imagination had clearly pictured the scene of me bouncing up and down on my dildo, leading him to suggest that I could perhaps “sneak” it out of the house next time and into the salon for me to ride in the same way at the same time as I sucked his cock. This was not the first time he had expressed an interest in me being filled with cock in both ends.

Earlier in the appointment, led by my loaded questioning about something he had mentioned before, he briefly mentioned the opportunity to bring more cocks into the treatment room, and had explained other promiscuous play he had enjoyed with someone who is also a select play chum at the salon. I made all the right murmurs and said “Interesting” a few times, practically salivating at the prospect of beginning to suck more than just his cock. He said he would keep me informed of opportunity and the official circumstances under which things could happen.

Back to where we were, and his imagination of me dildo bouncing to “ruin” – a descriptor that seemed lost on him despite there being no response to its use – led him to instruct me to sit on the very chair he’d envisaged me on in the room as above and to start sucking him.

I was hungry for it, insatiable in fact.

His cock was instantly devoured in the same way as I had done before but the erotica of my recent explanations was clearly still in the forefront of his mind – either that, or I really was servicing his cock well – as I was acutely aware of a regular dose of sweet tasting pre-cum which I well and truly relished, especially the frequency at which I was being fed it.

His flow was clearly not lost on him and, leading as a person I saw as a sort of unofficial Dom, he instructed me to stand up and drew me in close, body to body. He was keen to know what his cum would taste like out of my mouth. As we embraced, our lips and tongues met. This was not something I was accustomed to or expected but it was seen as another barrier to break through.

Initially, I felt like I was a cat caught in headlamps momentarily, and as if my eyes were out on stalks at indulging in this particular bisexual act but I soon shed any related inhibitions, embraced the moment and engaged – albeit briefly – with both of the French kisses. He momentarily and breathily acknowledged how good his cum tasted in my mouth.

There was some more embracing intimacy – of that, I do recall but otherwise, I was a little lost in the moment, I will admit so the detail is now blurry.

Afterwards, I took the lead to frot his hard and my largely limp and submissive cock as he reached to tweak the nipples on my naked and exposed body and otherwise have hands-on play on my upper torso.

After all of the years of keeping it a secret, I had planned to open up about my lingerie crossdressing but, given the effect of my earlier revelations, decided that I would save any further ones until next time, and told him exactly that.

I pushed the ‘power bottom’ button by firstly planning to, then quickly lifting his t-shirt to play with his nipples, stopping short of bending down to suck them.

But returning to his cock was burning incandescently in my mind and I had soon dropped to the floor to submissively kneel and take it into my cock hungry, pre-cum drizzled mouth.

Again, I devoured his cock in every way that my mind could think of, deep throating, kissing, licking, teasing the frenulum, all the while whilst reaching around with one hand to grab a smooth bum cheek, the other hand cupping and playing with his balls, the success of my techniques reflected by his audible responses of pleasure in both sound and words.

In my mind, I really wanted to be fucked like the slut I was seemingly becoming but a sub doesn’t get to call such shots. I was, however, focused on getting a shot of my own – his load, shot down my throat. I used the odd moment in between working his shaft to briefly reference the previously agreed safe words but he said he didn’t need them at that point.

Again, instructions were uttered quietly and he beckoned me towards the treatment table. At first, it seemed he was going to sit on the edge whilst I went back down on him, but he seemed to change his mind and lay down on it instead.

I didn’t care. I just wanted his cock back in my mouth focusing on getting his load and immediately gorged back on his stiff shaft which was pointing straight up. It isn’t my favourite position and it was less so as I sluttily turned putting my recently waxed smooth bum towards him, so that I was standing diagonally alongside him, me looking straight down at his balls and hole and the back of his legs which were spread for his submissive to work.

He was seemingly increasingly carnal, sudden outbursts of words describing how much he liked my backside, and as if he could not devour my bum cheeks and hole enough.

With the door of the treatment room quite obviously shut, the already muted hustle and bustle of noises from the rest of the business outside were muffled further as he occasionally but very loudly patted my hole with a two or three fingers held together, to open me up further, before inserting them to resume vigorously finger fucking me. I just about managed to acknowledge this whilst in deep focus on continuing to plunge up and down his stiff cock, transfixed on the anticipated moment that he shot his load into the back of my willing and cum hungry throat.

His carnal lust led him to occasionally reach down to my still largely limp and lifeless cock, hanging uselessly between my legs – but he was working what was there and I reached the point where I knew he was making me cum. I withdrew from his cock, announcing the impending load before cumming moderately into a cupped hand.

This was my load and I was about to draw it to mouth when I was instructed to put it on his cock and suck it off.

This, I broadly adhered to, but there was a degree of hesitation and he seemed to sense that making the carnal and lust infused decision to bring me off first again was as much of a mistake as it had been last time he did such a thing. I was becoming post coital yet doing my damndest to adhere to a sub’s tasks.

I still have things to learn in that respect and it was at this point that he began masturbating to orgasm – a point at which my mouth was seemingly not needed in any close proximity to him as he worked.

I used my still cum soaked hand to rub my recently pumped load residue into his balls which he relished and soon, he erupted over his lower torso. Spent, he uttered one of two recognised safe words. The utterance was acknowledged verbally in response.

The paper roll which covered the treatment table was quickly used to mop up the two loads from almost wherever they had fallen. He cleaned himself up, as did I, and I spent a few seconds alone, comprehensively and studiously wiping my load from every part of my hand into which it had been pumped.

Acknowledging my place as a sub, and otherwise, having not exactly been scraped up as a kid, I cleaned the floor of the rest of my evidently heavier than first thought and therefore partially splattered load to my satisfaction, ensured that my cock could not leak any more whilst going commando in my shorts on the street outside, dressed and left to confirm the next imminent appointment, likely, for some more revelations.

The fight is real

Perhaps it is an age thing, then again, perhaps it is not.

I’m no spring chicken but then again, I’m not past it either.

Let’s start with the main focus of my lack of body confidence – body hair growth. It is well documented on previous blog entries but in summary, I was originally quite hirsute, I tried wet shaves but took a frustratingly long time in the shower to hack through the undergrowth with a razor.

I then tried electric shaving which took a while, and even a home waxing kit out of a small microwavable pot that wouldn’t even have remotely scratched the surface of hair removal.

Then, on a mundane shopping trip with the significant other, I came across a salon in town offering ‘men’s room’ services via an A board placed outside. Without comment, I made a mental note of the details.

I vividly remember where I was when I made the call. It took a while to get through. This told me it was very reputable salon.

The rest is history. It has been nigh on ten years of appointments anywhere between 2 and 8 weeks apart, dependent on hair growth patterns, which, it turns out, differ greatly across the body – frustratingly.

Whilst I know in my heart of hearts that I am by no means as hirsute as I was when I started going for appointments, hair growth still very much irks me.

You’ll find me at my absolute happiest when I a perceive myself as being completely smooth and hair free. Only I never truly am. There will always be something somewhere that evades the wax strip, somewhere he misses, despite best attempts, somewhere that just won’t let go from the root or grab the wax paper.

I’ve never counted the number of hours that I have spent tweezering parts of my body – mostly hands, wrists, arms and chest but it is considerable.

From being totally smooth in areas such as my chest, I probably have about a week or so, two at best before the next army of follicles begin to push through, little bastard bristles, wisps of growth, many of which can be seen or felt. I bloody hate it.

Intimate waxes are my favourite, bum and bits, but just above my bits where the pubic hair determinedly sprouts, that bloody stuff seems to race through like its life depends on it.

I can’t open my legs wide enough (stop sniggering!) at the salon to allow enough room to get every last strand of hair out from every nook and cranny between but that bloody stuff is also massively determined to grow into a swarming mass before you can even begin to enjoy the results of the last waxing appointment – or plays hide and seek whilst I’m there.

I’m body dysphoric. I have been for years. It probably stems from being bullied at school for being a spindly, bespectacled geeky looking mop top.

At the salon, my dysphoria has been discussed many times and each time, there has been recognition of the progress made which I tend to reluctantly agree with. Sure – I’m nowhere near as hirsute as I was all those years ago – that, I certainly remember, but everything is, it seems, relative.

I have begun to dislike the smaller amount of hair growth I have these days in the same way I did years ago when I had more, and remain massively frustrated with certain, no, all bits of regrowth.

As I’ve said before, apparently, shaving encourages growth whereas waxing, i.e., tearing the hair out by the root rather than simply lopping it off at skin level, discourages growth, hair made to get thinner and weaker, and easier to pull out next time too. I know. I recognise the process.

From a kink perspective, I am deeply influenced. At my smoothest, I’ll dress in less lingerie, more of the type that exposes skin but when the growth pushes through again, I’ll cover up more in basques and bodies.

My salon is a reputable one alright. Whereas, years ago, I WOULD be fully body waxed in one session, for years now, it has been two, often a week or two apart subject to appointment availability. That is thanks to a reported US test case in which someone left a full body waxing appointment but, given the ordeal on their body (apparently), the extent of hair pulled out and the effect on the physiological system, he went into a form of shock at the wheel after leaving the appointment, crashed the car and died. Of course, there may have been underlying health conditions we don’t know about nor ever will, but, no, the impact of the full body wax was deemed the culprit and the effect was the end, at reputable salons at least, to full body waxes in one session. No help addressing my dysphoria but then, I guess some things are more important.

I have only ever suffered shock once whilst on the treatment table. The core body temperature plummets, and you get the uncontrollable shakes. It isn’t pleasant.

Reputable salon staff will therefore be acutely aware of the risks and be checking your body temperature regularly, not just copping a feel, but instead merely watching out for the client’s welfare. That’s good, right?

I tend to evidence for Mistress and to show on my social media – despite all the hang ups, I’m somewhat of an secret exhibitionist really, but in all honesty, I’ll share far less of my hirsuted lingerie clad body as said above.

A more sedentary lifestyle since the pandemic has seen me sitting more and because of home working, commuting and therefore exercising less, probably drinking less fluids too day to day.

As a result, these days, my skin is not so great, particularly on the back of my upper legs and, perhaps my best attribute – my bum.

I may now spend a great deal of time painstakingly but exasperatingly editing photos to ‘paint’ out blemishes and spots, and even stubborn follicles of hair that show on camera more than others. Or, more likely closest to the next salon appointment, probably won’t take any snaps at all as I fiercely detest how I look, sighing heavily at the extent of editing work I seem to do more often these days.

I’ve sought relevant advice from the salon and apply lotions and potions in a secondary fight to be more body content. It isn’t working. Either that I am just not applying the stuff often enough. Probably.

I dare say that there are other subs and crossdressers that shave on a very regular basis, but I bet that at least some don’t have to do it as often as I would, and besides, I’m conditioned to the train of thought that waxing deters growth, and shaving encourages it so to knock salon appointments on the head and return to endless sessions with a razor in the shower really would be a retrograde step.

Electrolysis? Not practical, not explainable, not affordable. Too hirsute, too much of it, too stubborn to die off en masse, doing my head in.

That just leaves me no further forward – happy and content for a week – two at tops after a waxing session – lacking body confidence and hating the way I look otherwise.

The fight is real.

Food for thought

NSFW
For some time now, I have been watching my journey, almost as an observer, and continue to watch myself fall further down the sub and kink rabbit hole.

Lingerie crossdressing was the thing for me for around 13 years from around 2005 – and I thought I was being very daring at the time in just doing that.

In 2018, I was impulsively introduced to chastity on line by someone who, it turned out, was pushing the right buttons in a form of domination via a web cam chat back in the day when I could do such a thing in time available.

When I told them that I liked what they were doing to me, they said the immortal words “Perhaps we ought to try chastity then!”. I had soon ordered my first cage and dived right in with an entire weekend home alone, dressed in lingerie 24hrs a day, locked and at play.

Body waxing sessions – appointments for which I’ve been going to for nigh on 10 years, ultimately led to being anally receptive and trained. Being naked, being intimately waxed, on all fours, I learnt to accept anal through cream being rubbed in and then, being finger fucked. I began to hunger for more.

Somewhere along the way, plugs and a 6″ dildo were acquired for home/work play and were added to the whole kink picture. At one point, the dildo was secreted into a salon appointment for him to fuck me with, as anal conditioning continued to prepare me for the future.

In 2018, at the salon, I sucked (only) (his) cock for the first time. Immediately after the event, I was quite literally ‘head in hands’, then bear hugging him before moments later, nonchalantly striding away albeit via the shop for a packet of mints! What a bizarre memory that is!

But I had developed a taste for (his) cock sucking and it would ultimately continue.

Ownership to Mistress in late 2019 upped the ante further, and I would be dressed, locked and plugged as Mistress instructed for up to 12 hours a day until the pandemic hit. Two years of going without any kink then followed during the lockdowns. What was constant was my sexual development at the salon, well, when COVID restrictions allowed again, but it felt more like a constant.

Throughout this time, I was nurtured, supported and encouraged by Mistress and, at the salon, continually sexually developed by my self described mentor.

In April 2022, he took my anal virginity and arguably not before time. By June, cock sucking had progressed to cum swallowing, his, and after years of trying and often failing, taking his made it easier to swallow my own. I am keeping count. As I write, ten appointments, ten of his loads have been consumed, always followed by my own from a cupped hand, other appointments where the nature of play or a lack of it, meant they weren’t, but 30 odd of mine have been consumed in total so far, many others still where I baulked at it alone for arguably ridiculous reasons all things considered.

Lingerie crossdressing resumed two years after it stopped. I found a way – again – albeit nowhere near the same extent that it had been pre-pandemic but it was tangibly something and it was needed for me to simply be.

Mistress is the only person to know about my chastity and crossdressing. Even my salon mentor doesn’t know – yet. I’ve got close to telling him – a second away in fact – but held back as it may open a multitude of related issues, good and bad – notably blog entries in which he is talked about. He too, has a lot to lose. He does, of course, know about my penchant for all things anal though.

He ever more fervently looks forward to my appointments these days. telling me how hard he gets in anticipation of them, that I genuinely give the best blow jobs (despite having had no training) and that there is money to be had in my cock sucking skills.

I suppose that, as a result of that, I’m getting bareback fucked by him in his preferred ‘from behind‘ position on an ever more regular basis and I am more eagerly after it than I ever was. He has not yet cum inside me, (even though he has come close) for all the right reasons, but whereby once, I wholeheartedly agreed with the reasons for him not doing so and still do, I am now somehow becoming more willing and eager for it per se, as I submit further – that being his load, or alpha men he has historically said he can prepare and bring in to the treatment room. He has previously alluded to group massage sessions he used to run some years ago, me being introduced to them, and separately, wanting to see me spit roasted, him being involved in the threesome, slotted into my willing mouth, and once heard during a moment of intense intimacy, about perhaps my darkest fantasy to be the subject of group sex, gang banged, cum filled and gently used by multiple cocks. These thoughts solicited his own train of thoughts as to if, how and when this might be possible.

The subject of ‘others’ hasn’t been broached by either of us for some time, and perhaps it might be broached again but, fearful of their indiscretion (and other risks) as a deterrent, I’m nevertheless vividly imagining and actively thinking about the prospects, ever more wanting and anticipating it, even though I might not feel the same afterwards. The warning signs of promiscuous bi/gay sex are there of course when you think enough about it. I know. I know.

Kink social media has to be of some psychological influence I suppose and maybe, just maybe that has somehow also conditioned me.

Sure, there are those memes that infer that once you do ‘it’, there is no going back. Agreed.

My rare actual office time is spent covertly getting crossdressed, locked in bound chastity there and, over the last few weeks, plugged with a Lovense Hush, links for which are shared for it to be controlled by lots of random people asking lots of random questions as to who I am, whether I like it, whether I’ll control their device at the same time and the the REAL judge, jury or executioner in three little letters ‘ASL’. I’ve lost count of the amount of times that replying to that question has led to control being quickly relinquished from their end. I don’t take offence and some people are quite nice by saying that they’re seeking something else before hanging up. In the main though, the law of averages has meant many an interesting and erotic conversation.

I happened to chance across an on line UK chastity store a few weeks back for which a casual browse led me to explore something that caught my eye a long time ago but the logistics of getting one evaded me – a chastity strap.

In my earlier days of chastity wearing, somehow, I was introduced to binding. Ever resourceful, back then, I fashioned something out of some old shoe laces.

A short time later and there was a recommendation to try ribbon. A length was soon ordered and cut to suit.

Anyway, about the strap. The on line store was, of course, out of stock, so I was left to subscribe to notifications when back in stock. That just left the small matter of being able to discreetly get it into my possession. Happily, the site admin get this and offered the option to have it delivered to a local post office.

The order was put in and its arrival, notification of the same and that first ever moment to try it on, more than eagerly awaited.

That first try of the elasticated strap with its two popper settings, albeit with the cock ring that came with it, felt amazing. It was as if my place as a sub had somehow been further assured, that I was no longer able to be perceived as ‘playing at it’ and I eagerly awaited the opportunity to wear it properly the next time I crossdressed in the office.

The strap, threaded through the chastity device ring, around my waste, with the black lace lingerie and the Lovense Hush plug being regularly controlled all day, pressed all the right buttons, and all available space within the metal cage was almost constantly filled, my restrained cock as erect as it could be and sensitivity at its highest, causing me to writhe with pleasure at my office desk as stimulated flesh repeatedly struck metal.

Years of sub training and dildo use had, on only one distant occasion, caused me to leak pre-cum. I remember being delighted and almost proud, as a thin strand of watery semen got lower and lower as it oozed out of my locked cock. But the moment has never been repeated as my years of sub induction, learning and breaking new ground continued.

The first day of chastity strap use and the ever heightening sense of arousal driven by that, but also being crossdressed, locked and with my plug being frequently controlled and my tight, no longer virginal ass pounded made me realise as I sat at my desk that I was leaking cum. I whispered as such to myself as if it needed emphasising.

Internally, I was jubilant, but alarm bells rang in my head as cum slut conditioning instantly told me that the cum must NOT be wasted as it began to nestle in my panties, having found its way around the metal work of my cage.

I quickly made my way to the toilet, stripped down to my lingerie, and, having put my panties on under my suspenders, unclasped them all briefly, removed my panties and began to eagerly lick and suck the cum residue from them. Wet from my saliva, they were eventually pulled back on over reconnected suspenders and stockings before I returned to my office desk.

I would make two further trips to the loo that day for the same reason and some more food for thought.

Feedback from Mistress is something I revel in. I can’t describe the feeling of hearing from Mistress, or getting a response to a message irrespective of the time that may pass inbetween. What Mistress says to me and about me, often pushes me submissively further down that rabbit hole, discovering further about who I really am deep within and what I really need to complete those dark closeted corners of my inner being.

Mistress is pleased with her sub. I am pleased and proud and, despite being deeply closeted, relish the prospects of the journey to come, ever more, but forever her sub.

“Your cock sucking skills are getting to be quite good now. You’re becoming a good little cum slut really now. I’m so proud of you.“

“I love this journey you are on.”

“I love seeing how you have progressed.”

An engaged ‘bi’stander

The period since my last blog entry has been an interesting one for a number of reasons and, ever the analyst, there is much to ponder and contemplate but without reaching a conclusion.

If I was to indicate any kind of direction that I might be heading it, it would apprehensively be one of acknowledging a fall further down the proverbial rabbit hole, an unexplainable level of acceptance as a sub and bottom, and even that I should somehow not be allowed what might be described as a conventional heterosexual orgasm, yet I could go close.

The other week, on line visual stimuli really pushed my buttons – it was, in fact, three way gay sex involving two black men and what might be described as a ‘whiteboy’.

Allowing my always vivid imagination to play something else out, driven by the video content, I was erect, yet telling myself that orgasm was not to be the end product.

In essence, psychology took over with little actual hand stimulation. The point of no return arrived much though I tried to hold it back. There was a long, drawn out, steady flow (only) of semen – akin to what some might call a ‘ruin’. A large quantity was allowed to pool and/or be collected and soon swallowed – no drop was wasted but every drop – taste and consistency was savoured – following only the slightest moment of hesitation pre-consumption.

In other separate moments of kink, whilst at work, the only place I can indulge these days, I have been strongly motivated to dress in lingerie, lock in chastity and insert a plug that can be controlled by others remotely via internet links. The plug use was like showing a red rag to a bull – the plug fully charged for me to fully charge at being used by random nameless and faceless people all day whilst I was sat at the office desk, everyone around me completely unaware of how I was and what was happening to me. No other plug in my arsenal was good enough – it had to be that one and people had to be given the opportunity to use me how they wished.

On most occasions, there were exchanges of explicit DMs to various degrees; some general friendly and inquisitive chatter or complete silence as the waves of levels of pulses pounded me, making me jump when someone took control or suddenly cranked it up to full power. On one occasion, the person at the other end took control, whacked it up to full power, leaving it there for the duration of permitted control time whilst maintaining utter silence, this sub, having made itself sluttily available for use, in no way considered worthy of their words, before being cast aside like a used tissue when the clock hit zero. I revelled in all of it and there was more of the same on the three other occasions over those two weeks, cock often straining in the chastity device of the day.

In my chaste state, I was, at times, stripped down to my lingerie in the loo having an ‘obligatory for a locked sub’ sit down wee when someone else would suddenly take control and I would have to get back to my desk whilst the power pounded me some more.

Those occasional calls of nature led to some dissatisfied snaps being taken but latterly deleted as my abject dislike for the before and after state of my body, half body waxed, half to be done. My stubborn hirsutedness clings on and fiercely fights back between appointments and, much to my frustration, because of differing growth patterns, I’m never fully smooth. The fight for me is real.

This was despite another salon appointment being imminent. The fact that my body was in the state it was, was softened by the lingerie dressed, chaste and Hush plugged remote controlled state.

Much to my relief, the appointment came around, booked first thing in the morning to suit us both no doubt. This time, I was NOT going to be thwarted by traffic so was up, showered, fed and ready to get off to the appointment in very good time. The Summer Holidays meant traffic was sparse and I was soon parked up and left feeling like I was in fact, too early even though I knew he’d be there with the door to the salon unlocked.

Having ‘ummed’ and ‘aaahd’ a bit, I made my way and in what was tantamount to chit chat, sprung through the door extolling that I was early but in an apologetic tone.

He instantly rebuffed my unnecessary apology, adding that he was there anyway and that I could arrive when I liked. The response was liberally sprinkled with sexual overtones as I was ushered in to the treatment room and left alone to strip naked once again.

The agenda seems to be set each time now. I never stretch out naked on the treatment table but instead stand in a place that will be his eyeline, facing a full length mirror, when he comes in. This time, he made quick verbal reference to the fact that, if I was in that position, I was ready for him, ready for play, ready for sex. It doesn’t need to be said, but sometimes, it is.

Like a toy, I stood there as he positioned himself around and behind my naked body, him pressing his fully clothed body up against me as his hands wrapped around me and roamed, nipples tweaked, inner thighs caressed, cock played with, the rounds of my bum cheeks followed with the palms of his hands.

I reached around to rub and further harden his straining cock through his jeans, which he needed to release after a period of dry humping me as I teasingly bent over.

With his trousers and undies down and with him now tight up behind me, I signalled the urge washing over me to be fucked again. I needed it and he was going to give it to me. After briefly reaching across for some cream to lube me up, he grabbed hold of my hips and entered me.

I told him to fuck me and I really needed fucking. This was a carte blanc to give his cock hungry sub what it wanted and what he wanted to give it, the gaps between being fucked at an appointment or not, narrowing all the time.

The rhythm and thrusts increased as my gaze fixed upon the reflection in the mirror before me, evidence if it were needed that I was indeed being soundly fucked, repeatedly and deservedly pounded by his lustful cock.

Again and again his hips thrusted, my tight hole feeling every single entry and exit, in and out. He withdrew but was soon back inside me, resuming the paced fucking before he reached the point at which it seemed he was ready to fill me but thought better of it. This was at the point where I had let go of all cares as I set my mind on taking my first ever anal load, anticipating its warmth flooding me.

He withdrew though, despite having often spoken to me before about plans (yet to come to fruition) to introduce other cocks to spit roast me, and graphically describing how I would have a cock in both ends, but seemingly also saying that in such an instance, his cock would be the one in my mouth.

He excused himself from continuing to fuck me by stating that he didn’t want to cum yet. He pulled out and moved away but I was instantly ass to mouth, sucking his cock from a kneeling position before he sat on the treatment table where I went down on him again.

After a few minutes in which I was trying but failing to comprehensively apply some intended particular techniques, he breathily said that he wanted me to cum on his cock then suck it and him off.

I briefly delayed as, deep down, I really didn’t want to do this because I knew that, having ejaculated, I would soon be on a rapid sexual comedown but accepting my place as a sub, I got up and began pumping until I came heavily all over his cock and balls. He cupped a hand underneath to pool my semen and use as much as he could as lube.

I went down on him briefly, tasting my cum, but he seemed to acknowledge the negative impact of his earlier instructions and that my willingness to swallow his load at the same time as mine on his cock was quickly diminishing.

Telling me he was going to cum, in a soft voice, I replied and told him that I wanted to see it and began rubbing my recently jettisoned load into his balls, much to his satisfaction. Soon, his cum shot out in front of my face and splattered on the floor below.

His euphoria filled the air as I then quickly swept up the paper sheet on the treatment table to wipe the cum from across the floor, needing more to ensure everywhere was clean. Again, there was a need to acknowledge the weakened state of his more senior years and reiterate that, again, he had not used any safe words before clarifying them again for future reference.

With that, his euphoria still ringing out and with reference to me that he felt there was money in my cock sucking services and me modestly and humbly rebuffing his praise, he redressed and so began the calm social chit chat of a regular waxing session.

In the week ahead, still needing some waxing, but only slightly, the smooth body drove another week of dressing, locking and plugging for the odd days in the office, secretly recharging the plug at home in between and keeping up with social media archive pic posts and responding to DMs.

Outside of that, by way of what might be further progress down the rabbit hole, I’ve being reading up about how to have a healthier system for a bottom – diet and kegel exercises for example – but there are heterosexual benefits to that too. Winner, winner.

The title of this blog is ‘Engaged ‘Bi’stander’ and here is the reason. Closeted as I am, submissive and bisexual tendencies prominent, I can see myself from another stand point, almost as a spectator, another person, watching everything that Fiona does and allows to happen. It is perhaps the heterosexual married family-man me that everyone else sees, knows and expects, representing them, trying to emphasise how it might all be inappropriate, wrong, immoral, not the right thing to do, yet so very mute at the same time and powerless to stop anything.

I see that other side as the element of me that is constantly cautious, careful and focused on ensuring that I remain in the closet. So, it isn’t a bad thing.

This is nothing new. I’ve said in many an old blog that there is a devil incarnation of me on shoulder and an angel on the other.

The watching on continues, every day, every week, every month.