The Preparation, Part 3

The spanking – well, the spanking and writing her lines and reading them twice, since he had her read them again after the spanking -all of that had left her in that state of submission where she was incredibly turned on and longing to be used. Sexually, maybe to kneel at his feet and worship his cock, or to be taken fiercely.

Instead, “Your appointment is at 11,” he said. “And I need to trim your hair first.”

She struggled to emerge from the waves of lust that nearly consumed her. Her nipples tingled, her pussy clenched. It made her think about that passage in one of the Gor books, where the slave girl realizes they’ve restrained her NOT because to keep her from running away but so she won’t bother the men at night. ‘Frigging sub-frenzy,’ she thought. She licked her lips slowly, still wishing she had a chance to seduce him.

But he just smiled.

“Come on,” he said. ”Get some water, go to the bathroom if you like. I’ll get ready.” There was a wet bar in the study, and she grabbed a bottle of water, asking, ”Would you like one, Sir?”

”Yes, please,” he responded. She took it to him before opening her own. He had unlocked the equipment closet and she wondered what he had in mind. But she headed for the restroom instead of staying to watch.

When she returned, she saw that he had pulled out the doctor’s examination table. The one that came with stirrups. She shivered. She had never been a fan of medical play, but plenty of people had used it back when they used to have parties here, before the pandemic had put an end to that.

“Come on,” he said, patting the table. “Hop up.”

Slowly, a bit reluctantly, she climbed up on the table. Heard the thin white paper covering the table crinkle, felt it against her skin, just like at the doctor.

“There you go, just lie back.” She didn’t want to, she really didn’t want to, but there was no thought of disobeying. She lay back, the sound of more paper crinkling seemed loud.

“Good girl,” he said, ”Now feet in the stirrups, yes, there you go. Scoot down, more, just a bit more,” and he tugged at her, scooting her until she felt her ass hanging off the end of the table. With her feet in the stirrups, she knew she was quite safe, but she felt like she was dangling in space. He pressed her knees apart, opening them so widely she was completely exposed.

He traced the welts on her bottom and the backs of her thighs. ”Very nice,” he said. He examined the hair between her thighs, tugging gently until she moaned. A pause – she couldn’t see what he was doing, but then she felt a cold cloth or maybe a wipe between her legs. He cleaned her carefully, not neglecting the cleft between her butt cheeks.

Discarding the wipe, he thrust a finger into her, making her cry out with surprise and pleasure. ”Look how hot you are!” he exclaimed, withdrawing the finger. ”A little spanking and your pussy begs to be fucked. Of course, since we’re waxing today, we’ll wait 24 hours til I fuck you. Maybe I’ll use your ass or your mouth, but I’ll save this for tomorrow.”

She whimpered, and felt a flash of anger at herself for doing it. He did this to her so frigging easily. He used to laugh and say he’d reduced her, ”reduced you to your most basic needs,” he’d say. And even then, she’d lusted for him.

He separated her outer lips, deftly found the clit and stroked it gently. She whimpered again and squirmed – and of course he stopped. ”No time for that,” he said. ”I’m going to use scissors first, don’t move. I don’t want to cut you.” He began then, first she felt a tug as he caught a bit of hair in one hand, then the snip of the scissors, another piece of hair and a snip. She didn’t move as he worked, holding her body still as he worked in a rhythm that was almost soothing.

The whir of the electric clippers came next. She knew that he would be leaving a quarter inch of hair so that the wax would be most effective. He worked without speaking, humming to himself, and she felt herself relaxing.

When he was finished, he used a towel to wipe the loose hair off her. Then she heard him gathering the paper he had laid on the floor beneath her to catch the clipped hair. ”You may sit up,” he said, ”slowly now. Don’t make yourself dizzy.” And he was beside her, helping her rise.

“Ok,” he continued, ”go upstairs and clean yourself up in the bidet. Then come back down and we’ll get you ready for Addie.”

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant when he said ’get her ready,’ but he cut her off with a sharp ’no.’ ”No need for questions or comments,” he said. ”I’ll let you know when you’re allowed to talk again. Now go.”

“Ugh,” she thought, ”so bossy!” But she was smiling as she climbed the stairs to the upstairs bathroom.

She was tempted to play with herself as she washed the stray hair away, it would have been so easy to cum, and who knew when she’d get an orgasm. But if he asked her she’d have to tell him and that wouldn’t go well. If she wasn’t allowed to talk, if she’d ”lost custody of her mouth,” as he used to say, she was pretty sure that she needed permission to cum.

All cleaned up, she headed back downstairs. He was still alone in the study, finishing his bottle of water. He gestured for her to sit on the table again. When she obeyed, he had her lie back, just like before, and open her legs wide. This time, he used the straps attached to the stirrups to hold her feet in place, wrapping them around her ankles. Then he turned the crank that adjusted the placement of the stirrups raising them and tipping them back until her knees were pressed almost against her chest, calves raised high, her ass lifted and fully accessible.

This availability was brought home to her as he began to play with her. Stroking, caressing, pinching. Fingers entering her, making her moan with pleasure. Then a pause, she knew he had put on a finger condom when she felt him slide into the narrower entrance. He had taken her there before, but so long ago, she felt as uncomfortable as a virgin.

She was stretched tautly enough that she could barely move, and then he held her in place with his thumb in the front entrance and a finger in the tighter rear entrance. While she was suspended, caught with his left hand, his right hand began to smack her bottom and thighs.

She moaned and cried out, pleasure and pain so mixed she was lost in the sensations.

Then the doorbell rang. The spanking, the fingering, all the sensations stopped immediately. Quickly, he covered her upper body with a sheet, starting just below her breasts and draping it over her upraised legs so she could not see herself from the waist down. And he left to answer the door.

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