The Fast And The Furry Ass By Alexith

The Fast and the Furry-Ass: A sequel to Sex Shop.

Last week Miss had me purchase a variety of toys from a sex shop. Finally, at the age of 35, I lost my sex shop virginity. Along the way to becoming “sex shop guy” (yeahhhh) I befriended a sex hobbit named Martin, with an encyclopaedic knowledge of lube and butt plugs, and a very large man with a handle bar moustache who thought my mouth was purty. I don’t know his name, but did I mention that he was very, very large?

This week my Miss continued to push me hard, with yet more humiliating and challenging assignments.

It is Tuesday afternoon and I am making my way to my local mall, butterflies in my stomach. My mission, whether or not I choose to accept it, is to take a picture of every single public toilet in the mall, and to edge in each toilet block.

Nervous, and trying not to look too noticeable I make my way to the first set of toilets, iphone in hand. I’m very fortunate in that I can quickly walk my way down the line of cubicles and take a sneaky snap of each porcelain throne. I feel a bit like a subby version of James Bond as I perform my task with military precision. Finally, I enter the first cubicle just as someone enters. Just as Miss requested I opened my pants, and gaze down at my brand new hot pink panties.

As I listen to someone doing what they do in public toilets, I feel a wave of submission wash over me. I realise where I am and what I have to do. The task of toilet inspection feels so tedious and yet so humiliating. Quietly, I reach in side my pink panties, and pull my cock out. I stroke, surrounded by the grubby tiles and graffiti, feeling absolutely sordid and cheap as I feel my face flush and my cock harden in my hands. Trapped in that humiliation I reach the edge and stop just in time, my breath coming in sharp shallow gasps.

I wait a while to soften, zip up and force myself to leave the cubicle. My face is red and I’m perspiring lightly. Looking at my own face in the mirror it seems obvious that I’m aroused. God, and there’s four to go. Still feeling semi hard, I make sure my t-shirt is covering my area, just like a horny teenager, and I make my way across the mall to my second “inspection site”, then my third and my fourth. Each time the process becomes harder. The feeling of being so degraded, and the realisation that Miss Zarita can, if she so wishes, make my day solely about toilets, immerses me deeper and deeper into the hot, sensitized, haze of subspace.

My face flushed, my desperation to cum growing steadily, I finally make my way to the last set of toilets. There, I pull a small black bag out of my satchel, and take out the items Miss had instructed me to use: a large, black, imposing butt plug, a tube of lube and a condom. In that nasty little cubicle, to the sound of toilet muzak and men using the facilities, I bite my lip and slide the condom over the buttplug, lube it up, bend over and slowly slide the cold, hard buttplug inside me. Just as Miss told me, I lean over like a slut and take it all inside.

Only when I am fully impaled and that “fucked” feeling washes over me, do i begin to stroke. Fighting hard not to breathe too deeply, the hot flush of shame on my face, perspiration on my forehead, I grind back onto the buttplug and finally.. explode in an ecstasy of abject humiliation. I rest my head against my arm as I lean against the tiles, eyes closed. Slowly I pull the butt plug out of me. Exhausted and lost in submission I make my way home, knowing that tomorrow my larger ordeal will begin.

Oh god it’s Wednesday. Wednesday is wax day. I wake up and shower thoroughly, and taxi across town to MANZONE, a business that specialises in waxing the hirsuit male body. On the way I nervously ring to confirm my appointment. The cheerful voice on the line reassures me that, yes, all is fine.

“We’re getting the back, sack and crack wax today aren’t we?”

“yes” is all I can croak.

On the way there my Miss IMs me and asks me how I am doing. Tears spring in my eyes and I smile to feel that She is checking that I am ok. I tell Miss that I’m nervous but doing alright and I smile wide as I read her next message “good boy. I’m proud of You”. Those words make me feel brave and excited to do this for Her.

Finally I’m there: a swanky little home hidden away in the suburbs. The guy greeting me at the door is normal, apart from having this appearance of being slightly too perfect. Not a single hair exists where there should be no hair. Even the stubble on his chin seems somehow sprayed on and “subtly deliberate”.

He rushes me into a cold room with a big massage table and he “gives me a moment to get ready”.

I look down at my clothed body, and realise its time to get naked. For a moment I ponder what would happen if I just bailed out at this point, and I know it’s not an option. I want my Miss to be proud of me. I strip down to my boxers, and hesitate a moment before I whisk them off too and stand naked and vulnerable in a strange man’s house. Nervously I lay face down on the table… My bum feels cold!

He walks in and stands over me. He small talks with me a few minutes and then it begins. I feel a warm liquidy sensation, and I realise my bumcheeks are being generously lathered with hot wax. It actually feels really nice, but as it dries I can feel it gripping onto my skin. I feel him lean forward and start blowing on my bum, which is kind of distracting.

I’m right in the middle of answering a question when he surprises me with the first rrrip of the day …. I feel a sudden jolt of pain like a hot red flash of flame across my cheek and an audible rripping noise which almost seems to come from inside me, but it is over as quickly as it began. The shock of it makes me stop talking and he prompts me to continue as the onslaught begins.

I’m talking about the weather as rrrip rripp rrrip rrip.. hot flashes of sudden pain move from the top of ass down to just underneath my cheeks. It’s painful but so sudden and over so quickly that it’s not hard to bear.

I’m almost starting to feel in control of the situation when I feel his hand on my shoulder, and he is telling me about what comes next.

“OK now I am going to get you to get up on all fours, and spread your legs”

I gulp and to pleasant Enya like music I do as I’m asked, my freshly waxed bum cheeks feeling almost like they are glowing with heat. I lift my arse up into the air and move my knees apart, trying hard to keep my voice level as he asks me question after question about the weather, where I live, how I commuted; anything to keep me occupied talking while he plucks me like a chicken.

I’m finding it seriously hard to keep the conversation going and I lapse into silence as suddenly I feel extra hot wax spread liberally between my cheeks. It feels hot and squelchy as more and more of it oozes between my cheeks. I close my eyes and realise this is crunch time. The point of no return. I’m about to be waxed in a place I can’t even see without the aid of a small hand mirror, which frankly I would not want to do.

“Mate, I’m not going to lie to ya” he says in an almost blokey voice, which contrasts deeply with his very elegant and manicured look. “This is going to hurt”.

I try hard not to breathe too quickly, and try to keep my voice calm and level as I feel the now very sticky wax drying there.

“OK were going to do this on the count of 3” he continues.

“one. Two” Rippppppp

Where was the three, my brain screams! This one is different. Its not just a quick bandaid motion. My whole body jumps and I feel almost as if for a moment I’m pulled backwards as the long line of wax between my cheeks rips away every unacceptable hair. Ok that one hurt, a lot!

I feel myself shake a bit after that one. “Ffffuck” I grunt in a muffled kind of way into the pillow.

“I was waiting for three!” I say to him indignantly.

“I know” he replies smugly.

It’s then time for my cock, balls and stomach to be waxed. I roll over and am told to spread my legs at the knees “like a frog”. By this time I am kind of in a daze and I do as I’m told. I notice that his elbow is now kind of pinning my knee down and he explains to me that he has been kicked in the head a few times by guys in this position. I laugh nervously.

The balls are surprisingly painless being waxed but the waxing of my cock is by far the worst pain of the whole experience. Every yank along my shaft makes me jump and I find myself fighting back a yelp and I realise I’m sweating by the time he finally finishes there. He explains to me afterwards that the hair growing around the shaft goes very deep.

Just a few more rips, tweases and a very creepy feeling of having my belly button waxed, and I’m done! I get up from the table unsteadily and look down with shock at an expanse of reddened bare skin. Wow. I look like a plucked chicken!

An hour or so later I am home and my Miss instructs me to put on my panties and do a little photo shoot for Her. I’m completely surprised by the results. When I look at the picture I don’t even recognise my own panty clad ass cheeks. In mixed shock and arousal I send through my pictures to Miss, and I blush and smile when Miss IMs me saying that I have a “nice ass”. That moment of realising I’ve made my Miss happy makes the whole process worthwhile.

So there it is. From sex shops, to toilet inspections to the infamous back, sack and crack wax. I’ve been humiliated, hit on by a large guy with a handlebar moustache, made to feel like a nasty little slut and finally plucked like a chicken…

Thank You Miss. It’s been an education. :)