Humiliation by Mistress Purdey


Earlier in the week my mistress had ordered me to report to 'Top to Toe' beauty salon for a treatment that she had pre ordered for me. Walking into the establishment I already felt uncomfortable. Mistress could not have a chosen a more feminised female orientated beauty salon if she had tried. Though of course, that had been the whole point of the exercise. All eyes were on me as I reported to the receptionist that I was here for a treatment. As the receptionist asked me my name I could just tell she knew a lot more of my situation than I would have liked. I tried very casually to give the name Mistress had supplied me with 'Shirley'. I could see she was trying not to smirk. I was asked what treatment I was booked for and at this point I had to admit that I didn't know. 'It's a surprise' I replied. I could just feel the other women waiting for treatments were just dying to know what I had come in for. Only next door was a Gentlemen’s grooming business that included several men’s beauty treatments. Extremely elegant, classy and more importantly, manly, Why on earth had I not gone there? Because my twisted mistress had booked it to make me feel uncomfortable, and it had worked Only, this was just the start. As the receptionist passed me the consent form it clearly had the treatments I was about to endure, Mistress was not messing about.

I knew Mistress would be good at it the first moment we meet. Unfortunately it took a further fifteen years for us to actually get it together for me to find this out for sure. We had first meet through a friend in our early twenties. It was lust at first sight from my side as she had an arse that you just wanted to bend over a table and fuck really hard. This is of course what was playing out in my head. Externally I just smiled and asked her about her job! What an idiot, but hey I was young and very naive. Her rather sarcastic retort was however softening by the ridiculous skintight orange lycra outfit she was wearing depicting a lucozade bottle. She was promoting a new trial flavour at Gatwick Airport and had to 'act' like a bottle of lucozade that had just been opened. I am guessing she had taken this to mean bob about a bit like a bubble trapped in a bottle, either that or she was having vaginal issues with the tight element of the outfit. Either way, I was hooked man.

As I signed the consent form and duly handed it back to what was now an openly smirking receptionist I sat on the girlie pink chaise lounge between two women in their early 30's. The wait for the therapist seemed forever but finally she came out to claim her victim. As I was led into the treatment room the therapist advised that if I could remove all my clothes and pop onto the table and cover myself with a towel, they would be back in a moment. They!!! They I thought. What was she talking about. It would seem that Mistress had given permission for the therapist to use me as a guinea pig to train her apprentice. That was good of her! As they entered the room with the tubs of hot wax I could sense my face going crimson with the thought of the exposure about to happen. Both were in their early 20's and very attractive. I was butt naked on a table with these young women about to remove every piece of hair from my furlike body. I had been nick named the bear by my rugby team simply for the thick dark coarse hair on my back. I had never checked to see how hairy my bollocks and arse were, still the girls were about to find out! No wonder they had such big tubs with them. Mistress had clearly warned them about the volume required.

They approached the couch and stood either side of me like bookends. It was here I noticed that the therapists had both changed their tops to now very revealing V necked tunics. The sight of their cleary pushed up tits started the stirring in my dick that would be my tormentor for the next 30 minutes. As the 'teacher' of the two slowly leaned over me to lower down the towel to reveal my torso her tits were so close to my face I could nearly taste them. I wondered how much Mistress had had to pay them for these extras. I can't believe this was the standanrd treatment. The towel was now lower than my usual boxer short line! Within seconds a hot layer of wax was applied to my sternum but before I could digest the sensation of the heat of the wax the wax was ripped back off and with it a thick layer of my black curly chest hair. At this moment I could feel the towel being removed and a slab of the hot wax applied to the top of my thigh. As the wax from my thigh was removed, along with a considerable amount of hair and by the pain maybe some skin, more hot wax was applied to my chest. As the therapists worked in tandem I could feel my thighs and chest burning with both wax and then the sharp pain from the hair being ripped from its roots. The pain was intense but man I loved it. Of course at this point my dick was totally hard and totally noticeable.

They worked at a rather fast pace and before long I was being asked to turn over. Thank god I would be able to conceal my cock, but as I went to lie flat it was clear that lying on my front was going to be a lot harder than I thought, excuse the pun.


So after meeting all those years ago fast forward fifteen years and after a few evenings of convention sex we had finally arranged a fantasy date. We had been discussing our respective sexual fantasises via instant messaging for months now but had never acted upon them. I had to admit I was rather nervous about it all. As the time edged ever closer to 8pm I could feel my stomach whirling faster and faster. What was the cause of such trepidation? Well the simple fact is, I am a submissive. Well I have been in my fantasies for many years now. Tonight that fantasy was going to be played out for real. I was suddenly scared. I was mentally scanning my mind for the crib sheet she had asked me to fill out. It was a rather no holds barred of everything she was willing to do, I just had to pick and choose what I wanted. Now I was worried about the penis torture box I had ticked. Not to mention the anal probing I had rather been rather blasé about. Why on earth had I thought it would be great to try out! Shite I can't even remember the safe word now!

The memories of the salon were now melting into the distance thanks to the choose of clothing Mistress had supplied for me. She knew full well that 3 days post hair removal, itchy stubble areas would be forming. Severely aggregated by the rough Hessian onesie she had had made for me. Mistress ensured that the made to measure fitting for it was as embarrassing as possible. Two of the campiest men in Brighton had basically been given carte blanch to man handle my 'naked', yes naked, body for the skin tight fitting. Of course at that point I had no idea what was going to be created for me. I had foolishly thought maybe a gorgeous tailored suit, but no it was this horrendously itchy coarse number. The itching around my balls and anus was getting beyond being bearable. But as much as I wanted to scratch, Mistress wouldn't like it if I disobeyed. Plus I couldn't. At this point I was tied in a star shape to a round spinning dining table with 8 of Mistress’s closest friends sat round it!….

I have a fairly high powered job, I run a large team of geeks for a corporate giant. I get paid well, have a lot of staff beneath me who respect and depend on me. I have the CEO on speed dial and unlike most personnel within the company I get to dine with the him once a month. This shows the level of esteem I hold and lots of personnel within the company rely on me. However, my wife of 10 years has only contempt for me, treats me like shit and generally seems to think i'm a prick. All of this I could take, if we at least had sex! But no, she has no interest in sexual contact past the wedding day. Hence seeking out Mistress…