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Miles pulled Tessa to her feet, turned her around and unfastened the lock that held her bonds. Releasing the dildos, she almost flooded the floor with pee.
“Go the bathroom and clean yourself, quickly,” he ordered. Tessa padded off, feeling even more naked without the rods and straps.
She felt oddly empty. Relieving herself, she realized the same noxious passions that were igniting her all day long were returning with a fierce zeal. Her mind was consumed by what would happen next. The whip. Martine. Her pussy flogged like “O”, in that classic tale of surrender. Could she handle it as well as that fictional submissive? Tessa finished her brief bathing and returned to the room feeling scared, fretful and curiously stirred.
“You look frightened,” Martine oiled her way to Tessa’s side with a snide smirk on her face, to which Tessa remained mute. “Oh, you are good, so docile, so calm before what you face.” Shrugging off the silence submissive, Martine turned to Miles. “Just one small thing before we begin.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I’d like her pussy shaved.” The woman looked down at the silky hair covering Tessa’s sexual triangle, and gloated triumphantly.
“She’ll be more vulnerable to the pain that way,” Miles agreed. “With no protection, that pretty cunt will be as striped as her belly and ass.”
“That’s the idea.” Martine was utterly without compassion, as the very worst of her sexual nature blossomed before all their eyes.
“She’s your slave now, Martine,” Miles said, “do what you want with her.”
“You have a razor?
“With a fresh blade.”
Reaching out the petulant woman took Tessa’s pussy hair in her fist and yanked.
“Ouch!”
Martine slapped her face. “Take care of it slut. The more naked you are, the more it will hurt, the more you’ll get the message that you’re nothing but a slutty, slavey whore.”
Tessa’s eyes spat out enmity so deep that even Miles shuddered. “Do what you’re told,” he shot out in an icy voice.
Without another word, Tessa turned away from the watchful eyes and trotted to the bathroom.
“Hurry up, slut!” Martine called, just to annoy her.
She had spoken with Miles about shaving her pussy—thinking the act would be a dutiful gesture of surrender, another milestone in her training, a ritual performed lovingly for him. But now the act seemed tarnished and all the pretty pictures vanished.
“Don’t take too long,” she heard Martine’s voice again.
Tessa grabbed the razor from the medicine cabinet and splashed warm water against her crotch. Applying a generous amount of shaving cream, she began a hurried excursion about her pussy with the fresh razor blade. It didn’t take long to have the obvious hair removed as the razor cut each lock away, and she could see more of her bare skin beneath. She didn’t stop with the outer hair, but opened wide her pussy lips and ran the razor along the tender flesh on either side of her clit. Then bending over, she reached back even further still, shaving away the hair from her entire cleft, to the few remaining wisps around her rear hole.
As the hair disappeared, she felt the soft flesh remaining, finding the experience peculiarly arousing. But suddenly hearing Martine’s raspy voice bark, Tessa stopped, splashed herself with warm water, and watched in the mirror as the shaving cream disappeared to reveal her naked mound. The opening between her labia looked so childlike and innocent, even though the purpose for it was not. But she had only seconds to wonder what horror would greet her before she was compelled to move on. Shivering from head to toe as she replaced the razor in the cabinet, she returned to the others, blushing.
“Ooo my, how nice,” Martine purred, as she admired the clean, bare skin, running her hand along the smooth flesh. She pried Tessa’s labia apart, feeling softness from her vagina to her asshole, impressed by how well Tessa had completed the task. Sticking her finger into Tessa’s cunt, she pulled out the soaked digit and presented it to the submissive’s mouth. “Lick it slut.”
Tessa recognized the musky smell of her own sex.
“If I were you, Miles, I wouldn’t let her grow it back,” Martine said smiling, with a trace of affection in her voice. Then quickly dispensing with the niceties, she moved on. “Let’s get on with it, my arm is getting itchy for a little battle.”
Miles led his compliant submissive to the large wardrobe at the side of the room, while Martine moved off to one corner behind an Oriental screen where she would change clothes into something suitable for the scene.
Opening the wardrobe, Miles revealed a closet full of lacy lingerie, costumes and exotic looking dresses. “Let’s see—we need something soft and sensuously submissive.” As he rummaged through the closet, he looked at several things, then went on to others, apparently searching for something in particular. Gazing at all the finery, Tessa wondered who had worn these interesting garments and how had Miles come to collect such a selection of women’s clothes? These were nothing like the things that he’d wanted her to wear for him; at least not until now.
What he finally pulled out was an old fashioned corset made of mauve-colored satin—the color of her skin between her labia—trimmed with black lace. Tessa looked at corset warily, thinking how she’d expected some nasty leather piece, instead of this more traditional symbol of submission. A whimsical expression flashed across her face. “Reminds me of something a harlot would wear in a brothel,” she quaked with delight.
“Then it’s very fitting,” Miles replied.
“And just think, I’ll look so pretty with the lace, matching the stripes on my privates,” she added with a surprising degree of sarcasm—aimed more specifically at Martine.
“Don’t get testy. You wouldn’t want me to punish you now,” Miles warned. “That would only double your agony tonight.”
