SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

The bell on the door jingled as he pushed it open and stepped inside from the street. The shrill noise cut through the quiet. He immediately felt self-conscious of the attention on him, as the obtrusive sound announced his arrival in the waxing salon. There were only two other customers, both women, waiting in the reception area. The girl at the desk smiled at him. But despite her welcoming beam, having these three pairs of eyes on him was enough to tilt his nerves a little more towards the anxious. Thankfully, once the door closed behind him, the frosted glass shielded him from any further judgment from outside.

Before entering, he’d walked past the shop front 2 or 3 times because there were other people on the street nearby and he didn’t want them to see him go in. Having finally mustered the courage to enter, the horrid jingling of the bell negated those preparations.

“Hi!” said the girl at the desk.

“Hello,” he said as clearly as he could, trying not to mumble, and trying to appear confident, “I’ve got an 11 o’clock with Marie.”

“Oh yes, take a seat, Hamish; she’ll be ready for you in a few minutes,” said the receptionist.

Hamish sat obediently on an empty chair, well away from the other two customers. There was a cushion there that was absolutely in the wrong place for him to be comfortable, and he sort of perched, half-on, half-off, for those few awkward minutes as he waited. He wasn’t bold enough to just move the cushion for some reason. He felt extremely self-conscious sitting there, waiting, in this feminine beauty place, with those two women silently assessing him. But he took a few deep breaths and tried to settle down. The smell of jasmine and tea tree oil filled the air, and he allowed himself to enjoy it as part of the preparation, building himself up for the procedure. Despite his anxiety, this salon was a reasonably familiar place by now; he had been waxed several times by Marie, who always made him feel comfortable with her friendly demeanor. So as a repeat customer, he was a little less anxious with each visit; but today was different. What made him particularly uneasy on this occasion was that, since last week, Mistress Katie was now also a client of Marie’s.

Mistress had insisted on trying out the salon after hearing about it from him. She and Marie clicked immediately (Mistress told him); they even went for a glass of wine after the appointment, because Mistress was the last client on that day. (This is so typical of Mistress. She makes connections so easily.) Mistress came back full of praise for Marie, and spoke of her as if they’d been friends for years. This rather bypassed Hamish’s own professional relationship with Marie, he thought. But Mistress was more than happy to have him continue as a client. In fact, she positively encouraged it.

So now, on this occasion, Mistress had made the booking personally with “her friend” Marie and sent Hamish along. He had a very busy schedule these next few days leading up to the party, and it started here with his waxing appointment. He needed to be immaculately prepared and presented. Mistress had wanted him to be smooth a few days in advance so his skin had some time to settle down before the party.

It is quite a procedure for a boy to get a full Brazilian wax. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Hamish was extremely self-conscious of his body, particularly his genitals, which he was always concerned were a little too small to be impressive. Mistress Katie certainly compounded this feeling in him with her “sympathetic” attitude towards his cock, which she never hesitated to comment on.

As he scrolled Instagram on his phone, trying to distract himself and settle his nerves, he was vaguely aware of movement near the reception desk as the therapist appeared. He did his best to stay casual.

“Harper!” said a loud voice, “Hello again! Do come through.”

A rush of hot blood flushed his face when he heard the female name announced to the room. Harper was his secret name… his girl name… his sissy name. Only he… well, she… and Mistress Katie knew it. Not any more, apparently.

The two other waiting customers and the receptionist looked at him, half curious, half amused. He stood up and smiled awkwardly at Marie; as he did so, he knocked the cushion onto the floor, clumsily picked it up, and placed it back on the chair, then followed Marie through to the treatment room. What was only perhaps 5 paces away felt like a marathon walk of shame.

Inside the treatment room, Marie was all friendly as usual. “How have you been?” she gushed.

“Um, yeah, good, thanks. How about you?”

“Yeah, really good. Hey, Katie is so lovely! We really hit it off. OK, well, get yourself undressed, I’ll be back in a moment.” And with that she vanished from the small treatment room and pulled the curtain across the doorway on her way out.

He carefully removed his shoes, socks, and shorts. He was wearing the black cotton bikini panties Mistress had chosen for him that day, and the edges of the panty liner were just visible beyond the hemlines. He had become very dependent on liners in recent weeks because his cock would leak incessantly. This was the norm since Mistress had taken ownership and control of his orgasms. He hadn’t ejaculated in six weeks. Mercifully, he had been permitted to attend his waxing appointment without his chastity cage.

As he pulled down his knickers, a stream of thick, clear precum joined the end of his cock to the surface of the bloated liner. He quickly scooped up what he could and dealt with it, the way he was expected to… by licking it off his fingers. Then, he folded up his panties and stuffed them into the pocket of his shorts so Marie wouldn’t see them.

Standing there naked from the waist down, he was acutely aware of how small he looked. Any man will tell you that their genitals are never impressive during anxious situations. Hamish was definitely anxious right now, and his body betrayed that. He quickly tried to fluff himself up before Marie returned, so that he might look a little bigger. It wasn’t much of a success: more sticky precum came out. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the trolley beside the treatment table and dabbed up the residue. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and waited. He looked down and hoped that little fluffing would see him through.

He heard Marie’s big voice approaching the treatment room. She was on her phone. “Yes, she’s here with me now,” she said, “we’re about to begin.” Hamish’s heart pounded. Marie was on the phone with Mistress, and it seemed Mistress was quite happy for Marie to use his new pronouns. Marie addressed him: “Top off too, my lovely, then lie back.”

Hamish had no choice but to do as he was told. He removed his t-shirt, folded it neatly, and lay back on the bed. He was now completely naked. The women continued their conversation:

“So we’re doing all of it? No problem.” He watched Marie scope him up and down as she spoke, before her eyes settled on his cock and she gave just a little sympathetic tilt of the head. “Aww, I think it looks cute,” she said. “It suits her. Leave her with me, babe, we’ll make her look very special.” Hamish wanted the bed to swallow him up. He could almost feel his penis contracting as the women discussed it.

After a few more moments of giggling and girly small-talk, she hung up the phone and pulled on her latex gloves.

“Katie wants me to do all of it,” Marie said. “You are going to be the prettiest thing for her party.” Hamish couldn’t speak.

Marie worked with efficiency like a true professional. She began on the Brazilian, which was a process he’d been through with her at least half a dozen times before, but not under these circumstances. Before he knew what was happening, she was applying hot wax to what little bush he had above his cock, and it was ripped off in a matter of seconds. The pain didn’t bother him: it hurt, yes, but it was certainly bearable, and he knew that sometimes beauty was pain. He actually enjoyed the ritual of putting himself through this intimate and painful procedure to have that lovely, smooth, feminine finish. Although today, with Mistress’s involvement, it was another level of intense.

Marie instructed him to hold himself in the usual way so she could do his testicles and the sides and underside of his cock. He was so small and contracted at this point that his genitals resembled an acorn on a walnut. He did his best to hold his cock to the side, but there was virtually nothing to grip, so it was all he could do to pinch his foreskin and use that as the only purchase available. After dealing with both sides, and looking in very closely to pull out a few rogues with the tweezers, Marie was finally happy. As he released his cock from his grip, he hoped Marie wouldn’t see the stream of fresh precum on his fingers. “We’ll flip you over in a moment, darling, let’s just get some lotion on,” she said.

The words registered with him, but he couldn’t quite comprehend them. Usually after the procedure, Marie would recommend that Hamish apply some tea tree lotion to the waxed areas using the pump bottle on the trolley. He’d do this after she’d left the room. But this time it was different: Halfway through the procedure, without another word, she pumped some lotion onto her gloved hand and applied it herself, all around his newly-smooth genitals: pubic mound, balls, cock. To say it took Hamish by surprise was an understatement. He was already struggling to make conversation, but now he was at a loss for words. It was an incredible crossing of boundaries that apparently she was comfortable with doing as part of this new client/therapist dynamic she had established with him and his Mistress. Although it felt amazing to be soothed by her hand, Hamish felt quite intruded upon; although he would never have protested, as he was just too submissive.

As he lay now on his front with his bottom in the air, and he spread his cheeks with his hands, he thought to himself that this must be just about the most humiliating way a man could present himself to a woman. (Oh, Harper, you silly little thing; how much you have still to learn.) He tried not to let himself enjoy the sensation of hot wax on his little hole too much. After a few more rips, the area was clean, and Marie was happy. Once again, he heard the pump of the lotion bottle; and this time, he felt her hand glide up his crack and over his little hole as she applied the lotion. His eyes widened as he lay there in silence: this was even more intrusive than doing it to the front.

“Ok, darling, you can roll over now,” Marie said. As he did as he was told, he cringed with shame when he saw the wet patch he’d left on the paper roll covering the treatment table. He quickly lay on his back to cover it and hoped she hadn’t seen. Marie then applied wax to his underarms as the next stage of what turned into a very long session, during which she chatted away about all sorts of mundane things, and Hamish was obliged to politely engage with her. At the same time, every square inch of his masculine body hair from the neck down was systematically removed. At the end of the procedure, his cock was practically inverted with a stream of clear ooze coming from it. He was so ashamed. Mercifully, Marie pretended not to notice as he discreetly tried to wipe himself with another tissue.

When she finally left the room so he could dress, he took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He was glowing pink, with not a single hair on his body. What a sissy he looked. He pulled his panties from his shorts and put them on. It felt so comforting and reassuring to have the liner pressed against his little leaking cock again. Standing there in just little cotton panties with a liner in them was the most comfortable he had felt for the last hour. He dressed quickly and stepped outside to the reception area. Marie was there with the reception girl, who smiled at him. “That’s $240 for today, Harper,” she said. Hamish paid his bill, thanked Marie, and turned to leave.

The shrill bell sounded again as he pulled open the door, announcing to the world outside that he was there, all smooth, a sissy girl re-entering the world. Two men walked past the shopfront and looked at him. He wondered what they must think of him as he stepped out of a waxing salon. He wondered if they knew about him. He walked briskly to the station, eager to leave the area and his shame behind.

To Be Continued…