Trish Loves To Be Humiliated

It was a long process, the feeling of his needle in me was like nothing I had felt before, I could see why people could claim they can get addicted to it yet it was pain of a sort and magnified by my mental fears as to what design was being permanently inked to my skin.

Hours later it was over. Any qualms that Tony had had were all gone now (a phone call from Master seemed to have settled his mind to what he was doing) and he positively beamed at me as he told me I was finished. But he had a few other twists for me too.

"Well Miss, I've finished. Not sure what you'll make of it but it's what the client wanted so I only do what he says, you know?"

I was still naked and face down on his angled chair so I didn't do much more than barely nod at him.

"So anyway, the um, client has a few other instructions for me. I mean usually I have to cover the work up but he's paying that little bit extra to leave it uncovered, shouldn't do you any harm, I mean it's a quality piece of work. Anyway, he also said that you had to leave your clothes that you came in here and go home wearing this stuff he left the other day."

At this Tony produced a plastic bag that contained the shortest of cut off, white T-shirts and a pair of Daisy Duke denim hotpants. Apparently, whatever Master had put on my back was very much for public consumption, and I still didn't know what it was yet. I found my voice enough to ask Tony but he just waved me away and stressed that ‘his client' gave him strict instructions that I was not to know what was tattooed on my back until I got home and saw in the mirror for myself. Hard to deny that it was a thrill to consider me walking home like that but even then Tony had one final instruction for me.

"He also said to tell you that you got another appointment here tomorrow at the same time. He says it's your last test and if you do it then he'll be satisfied. He said to come back in these clothes so you can leave them here and pick up your stuff again."

Well I chewed this piece of information over as I walked home that night in my impromptu outfit. My back was somewhat sore and I was itching to try and see what had been put there but it felt like I was under observation all the way and I just had to keep going. Fortunately by the time I was going home it was late so there wasn't many people around to see me but going back tomorrow would be a different story altogether as I would have to walk in broad daylight at the very time most people would be around – just before tea time. That only became a scarier proposition when I eventually made it home and rushed to my bedroom mirror to read my tattoo. In dark letters it read "MASTER'S LITTLE SLUT"!

I put my hand to my mouth and held my breath for the longest time. My god, what had I just done to myself? That was a bona fide tattoo back there, it was pretty big too, anyone see my lower back would be able to easily read it. It stood out so boldly against my creamy, white skin. And wearing that skimpy top tomorrow would completely reveal the words to everybody that cared to look and being honest I always looked when I got a glimpse of a tattoo on someone else, where ever that may be, on the street at the pool, wherever. I was branded now and could only hope that it had been worth it. But as I lay in bed that night I was so wet, I was so turned on at being branded like that by Master, my embarrassment only served as further fuel to my arousal as I played with myself until I fell into a fitful sleep.

It felt weird the next day, teaching in class. The kids and other staff were I guess still slightly shocked by my nose and eyebrow jewellery but what they would have made of my lower back if I had hitched up my red blouse is anyone's guess. Put it this way I doubt I would be employed for much longer if I did. But that was the thrill, the excitement of knowing I was one lift of my blouse away from risking it all. It's difficult to explain how I felt by that point; I had given my whole being over to Master by then to do with what he wanted. And as embarrassing as the walk was that night, from my house to Tony's tattoo parlour I would be lying if I said it did not make me absolutely soaking wet. Dressed as I was in that tiny, tight white shirt that clung to my breasts like a second skin and served to display every inch of my skin from just below my tits down to the waistband of my Daisy Dukes. Which, of course meant every little bit of my new belly button piercing and my ultra trashy tattoo were on full display to the general public, and unlike last night this walk was in full daylight with the sidewalks seemingly crowded.

I felt every pair of eyes boring into me, the men's lustfully and the women's disgustedly. I heard the comments, the whispers as people were behind me, the chuckles and the giggles. All directed at me and what I looked like and what was written on my back. Everyone that saw me on that journey to the tattoo parlour was being told that I was a cheap, trashy slut by how I was dressed and what was so blatantly inked on my skin. I could barely walk because of the excitement it was causing me.

When I got to the shop it was deserted again, apart from me and fat Tony. Within seconds the telephone had rung and Tony indicated it was for me. It could only be Master.

"I watched you today, walking. I liked what I saw. You're so close now Trish. I'm very impressed. If you just manage to fulfil this final task, this final test if you will then tomorrow I promise Trish I will fuck you."

I bit my bottom lip and almost whimpered as he promised me that which I so desired and listened intently to his next instructions.

"When I hang up you will go and sit once again in Tony's chair. But this time you will not be getting a piercing or a tattoo. This time Tony will hand you a set of electric hair clippers and you, yourself will shave all of that lovely blonde mane on your head off. You will take off every single inch of that long blonde hair it has taken you all your life to grow like that. When you have done as much as you can tell Tony to finish the job. He will use a cut throat razor to take away any stubble."

"My hair? But.."

"Trish. This is your final test. Think of all you have done so far. Was it all for nothing? Your hair will grow back. I will not. This is your only opportunity to fully serve me and I need to know you can obey me.

Oh and Trish? I think you'll agree Tony has been very accommodating in helping us out here so I think over and above the payments I am making him for your enhancements he is due a special ‘bonus' when you finish up tonight. Once you have shaved your head completely bald you will treat him to a blow job, I want you to give him the best oral imaginable, treat his cock as you would my own. Be sure not to swallow his cum though, instead I want you to have him spray it on your face and leave it there I have another little treat for you after that."

He hung up.

Time froze as I stood there holding the receiver digesting my final test. My hair had always been a source of great pride to me, ever since I was a young girl. I remember how I used to comb it for what seemed like hours on end while looking at myself in the mirror. Whenever I was asked what was my best feature I would invariably answer my hair before even considering anything else. It stretched a couple of inches past my shoulders and normally the very thought of even getting it shorter than that was enough to petrify me.

Tony obviously knew or could guess what I had been told to do. He stood there, the electric clippers in his right hand and leaned on the back of his chair awaiting me, awaiting my decision. My mind was racing through this – the repercussions and rewards of doing this or not doing it. I almost wish that I had not been given the free choice to decide, that I had been forced to do it, but no, I knew I could still walk away from it if I really wanted to. But could I? After all that I had done could I really not do this? I had become addicted to Master and his little games of humiliation. They were like a drug to me, each time I did them I got deeper and deeper in the web and I could not deny that it had been the most amazing sexual sensations that I had experienced in my life. Maybe the real question was, could I live with not doing it?

The dark cloud that was my obsession, my fixation, made me walk towards Tony and sit myself in the chair and accept the clippers from him. He swung a large mirror around in front of my face to allow me to see perfectly what I was doing. I felt the cold metal of the clippers handle in my right hand and said a silent prayer under my breath before raising it up to my scalp, pressing the switch forward and pushing it into the front of my hair before I could think any further.

The buzzing in my head was deafening. Like a drill boring into my skull. I looked up at the mirror after my first pass with the clippers to see a low road cut into my beautiful hair right down the centre and my locks falling from my head to the ground around me. As bad as it looked I knew that now I was started I would finish and I will not deny I felt aroused at what I was doing.

I closed my eyes, willing them not to tear up, my mind a mess of conflicting emotions. But my hand and my resolve did not lessen and I plunged the shaver once more into my thick mane and felt a great swathe come off almost instantly. From there it was a blur, my hand with the shaver passing time and again over my scalp, the vision in the mirror before me of a ruined head of hair with uneven bumps and tufts of blonde hair sticking up at impossible to believe angles. Finally, I had done as much as I could, my head nearly resembling a skinhead but not so tidy and handed the clippers back to the waiting Tony and allowed him to finish off the areas of my head I couldn't quite reach before completing the task with a long cut throat razor, removing every last bit of stubble from my head and, once the shaving foam was wiped off, leaving my head totally bald and shiny.

I gazed in astonishment at my new look, it was like I was a totally different person, the piercing's now standing out in my eyebrow and nose and I even looked somewhat manish, facially at least. Tony, it would appear, knew about his extra little bonus because he already had his zipper down and his long, greasy looking cock hanging out.

In something approaching shock I ran my hand over my now smooth pate and contemplated the fat mans slowly hardening member – it was not appealing but I was not going to fail now, not after all I had done to please Master. I leaned forward in the large leather chair and immediately pressed my lips on his slimy cock and in one movement dipped them forward to roll his fleshy foreskin right back and allow his bulbous bell end to slide through to my tongue. This would be one of the best blow jobs this pervert had ever received. Any Ideas that I would be controlling the action were quickly dismissed though as Tony pulled me to my knees and got his big hands on the back of my newly shorn head and started to pump his dick in far faster and harder than I would have. It was pretty rank, what with his big hairy balls bouncing about and slamming against my chin.

So while his foreskin slid backwards and forwards in my mouth, straining and nearing the back of my throat I just knelt there and allowed him to fuck my face. I squirmed on my knees, trying to get some degree of comfort but also because I was realising that here I was giving this odious man oral and he was the one who had pierced me, tattooed me and now shaved me bald. Yet above all that was the overriding feeling of how nasty I was to have done all that. How it would affect my ‘normal' life was forgotten, it was just not important to me right then only my continued, heightened arousal.

By this point I was positively drooling saliva from the corners of my mouth, well saliva mixed with his pre-cum. I was nearly gagging too, he was really going deep with his long cock and tickling my tonsils with every deep thrust. He obviously was aware of Masters instructions for where he was to cum also because he gave a deep sigh and hauled his member from my gullet just seconds before it exploded, firing jet after jet of thick, viscous sperm all over my lips, nose and forehead. As he squeezed the last out on top of my bald head the door opened and in came Master. He smiled at me briefly and came up to me and hung a big white sign around my neck. In thick dark letters it read "THIS IS CUM ON MY FACE".

"You'll walk home like that Trish, with the sign around your neck and in your skimpy top and shorts, I do so like my tattoo being on public display. Here take your other clothes home in this plastic carrier bag. Now you've done your side of the bargain so it is only fair I honour mine. You will be at work a full hour early tomorrow morning, I will meet you at the school gates and then, as I promised I will fuck you Trish."

He turned around and marched from the shop leaving me getting up off my knees, my face plastered in cum, trying to arrange this humiliating sign on my front. But I did not hesitate, I wasted no more words or time on Tony and lifted my bag and exited his shop into the bright evening sunshine. I walked a few steps and stopped to look at my reflection in a large shop window. My god, I hardly recognised myself. I was dressed like an absolute slut and the glimpse of my crude tattoo only emphasised my trashiness, I still had my killer figure but the piercings and that chrome dome surely changed my look and that big fucking sign around my neck was impossible to miss. It was going to be one hell of a walk home again!

Which it was. Every man, woman and child that I passed on my walk stopped in their tracks to look at me, they read the sign first and most strained to view my face closer and most pulled a face when they saw the cum stuck to it. I don't think they had believed it at first. A group of teenage guys followed me for about a block and that was unnerving, they called out to me calling me slut and asked if they could be the ‘Master' in the tattoo. Little did they know that their taunts and sexual comments were turning me on so much but I still kept on walking. About an hour or so later I turned into my street, it was pretty quiet but wouldn't you know it just as I was opening the gate to my garden Mrs. Stephens, the old lady who lives in the house directly across from me walked right past walking her dog. She was just the biggest gossip I had ever met and I knew she didn't particularly like me because I just didn't have time for that type of person. She did an almost comic double take at my appearance, took in what the sign said, walked past tutting in disgust and goggling at my head before finally reading what my tattoo read and nearly falling down with shock. Oh boy, life would never be the same again, that was for sure!

*

I awoke the next morning bright and alert. After all I had done, today I would finally be taken by Master. I was long since past the point of rational thought, sure in retrospect everything I had done was either risky, dumb or downright dangerous but it had made me feel so good that I was able to look past everything that a ‘normal' person would have balked at. Even this today, was surely fraught with risks. Going to work with my head shaved bald? Hardly the look for a primary grade teacher.

I drove to school this morning an hour earlier than normal and was equally nervous and excited to find master sitting on the wall outside waiting on me. He got in the car beside me and instructed me to enter as normal and he would accompany me to the classroom –apparently I would get to make love to him in my very own classroom! I was soaking wet with excitement already.

The place was virtually deserted, only the janitor's car was in the car park as I drew in and I knew he would be down in the boiler room brewing up and hiding until all the kids were in classes. With butterflies in my stomach I led Master to my room and made sure to close the door behind us.

"Take your clothes off Trish, I want to fully gaze at what you have done to your body to please me."

Willingly I took off my light dress and my underwear and stood naked for inspection. He ran his hands over my bald head and nodded approval, he examined and gave a cursory tug on each of my piercings (the ones in my nipples and clit tingled amazingly to his touch) and he paid particular attention to that tattoo on my back. Reading it he asked.

"And are you Trish? Are you my little slut?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good. And you've done all this, all these things just to please me? To reach this point where I accept you fully as my slave and in my own words fuck you."

He obviously liked the word fuck so I decided to play along with that.

"Yes Master, this was all so you would fuck me. I want to be fucked by you, please Master."

"Very good. Well to get that you will need to write some lines for me, go on take your chalk and write on the board a hundred times, "I AM A SLUT AND WANT TO BE FUCKED BY THE MASTER".

I did not hesitate, knowing I had ages yet before anyone else arrived and began to write my lines on the board.

He walked to my desk and from his pocket produced two lengths of pristine, white rope. He knotted them expertly around the legs, ensuring they would not come off and once they were to his satisfaction he watched me write my lines out. No doubt admiring his handiwork all over my body. When I finished he barked at me.

"Face the desk Trish. I am going to tie your wrists to the desk. You see I like fucking women who are restrained in some way. That Ok with you?"

Not really, I thought, I mean could I trust him in this place? But I was too far gone to stop myself and I obediently stepped towards him and allowed him to tie the ropes around my wrists and leave me bending slightly forward my ass pointing towards the door.

"Lets make this interesting shall we?" he announced and very calmly walked to the door and threw it wide open, if anyone should come along the corridor then we would surely be discovered and bald head or not I would easily be recognised and my job would be ruined.

But that was so thrilling, I tingled all over and craved Masters touch. And I quickly got it as he dropped his trousers and very suddenly thrust his hard cock deep inside me from behind, filling my soaking pussy with one long thrust before starting to pump in and out of me with great vigour. I sighed with pleasure to finally feel Masters manhood inside me, filling me up and felt that finally, I belonged to him. But to my great surprise within moments of him entering me I felt his cock explode and his cum fill my pussy and trickle down my thighs, he withdrew, wiping his cock on my clothes on the floor and quickly pulled his trousers up. I was so disappointed, how could he have not lasted longer? I looked over my shoulder to find him smirking at me and without knowing why I tried to shift my wrists but they were tied too well and the desk too heavy for me to budge.

"I don't think we'll meet again Trish, but it has been fun – for me at least! You see I told you I would fuck you today and from where I'm standing you and your life look pretty fucked!"

Without another word or glance he turned and left me, tied, naked, tattooed, pierced, shaved and with cum on my legs in my very own classroom, the noises of cars arriving in the car park outside only just beginning to register in my mind. But even as I stand here, hopelessly exposed and about to be humiliated or worse my main train of thought is that I wish my hands were free so I could make myself climax, I am just so aroused by this!

Note: thanks for taking the time to read my story, please, if you can take the chance to vote and leave your comments and thoughts on it. thedarkcloud