The Secret of My Sluttiness Ch. 03

Now let me tell you a bit about me. I am just over six feet tall, about 250 pounds of solid muscle and very well endowed. My hair is about an inch away from my shoulders and a dark chestnut color.

I have been used, abused, raped, fucked, sucked and basically turned inside out by the people who have made me pay back my gambling debt by turning me into a male whore. However, this is just the training and I am still incurring debts for the costs of my teachers while doing so. I have yet to start working and earning money for them to pay back my debt.

I have one more thing to do before my descent into true slutdom is complete: I must ask for money for the services of slut that I will perform. To that end, my owners have decided to make sure I will not disobey them and make them lots of money.

I was taken to the spa for a day of pampering and preparing. I am to pay the costs of this with my body, of course. The ladies, and gentlemen, at the spa know what my fate is to be---they have obviously done this before many times. Like a well oiled machine they go to work.

My first treatment is given me by a fiery redheaded Latino woman. She starts by making me strip completely nude and taking my clothes away. I don't know it at the time, but she told someone to take them outside and burn them—I was to get more appropriate clothing later.

As she commands me I get up on the table that is before me. After I am on my back and laying there I am told not to move. My legs are strapped down first followed shortly thereafter by my thighs, my waist, my chest and my arms. The table is then opened up to my surprise. I am now naked, spread-eagle, totally at the mercy of this gorgeous Latino and have no idea what she is going to do.

A blindfold is then wrapped around me and given the way it is done it has the secondary effect of restraining my head as well.

Finally, I hear her voice again. It is a voice that would make the angels crave becoming sinners and serve in whatever hell she chose for them.

"You are now mine for the next while slut. So you had best behave or I will have to hurt you severely," she says.

I don't know whether to reply or not, so I do nothing.

I smell something I haven't smelled in a long time, the smell of melting wax. As the wax is applied to my body I revel in its warmth and sensuality. That feeling does not last long as eventually she gets to the point of the waxing in the first place—removing all of my body hair.

Now anyone who knows about waxing knows that it is quite painful and a full body waxing is painful in the extreme. Well that is what I am undergoing. My Latina beauty is not only good at her job, but she is good at getting me to beg for it to be done.

How can one beg for such a procedure willingly you ask? It is rather simple. She mixes the pain of the waxing with the pleasure of sitting on my face and making me eat her out as she sucks my cock skillfully and deeply. She does this while pulling the hair from my body. Eventually my own body does not know the difference between pleasure and pain. It actually reacts to both in a similar fashion—I get aroused and become extremely submissive.

After several hours of prolonged teasing, and the waxing from Hell, my body is completely devoid of hair with the exception of the hair on my head. I am looking forward to the next step as I am horny and have not cum in an extended period.

Unfortunately, I am not to cum yet.

The next treatment is for my skin. After the waxing, as you can well imagine, my skin is very red and extremely sensitive. The treatment following the waxing is designed to rectify the problems from the previous one. I get a full body exfoliation and cleansing. The cleansing is as much internal as external.

The treatment, done by an extremely long-legged and sensual brunette with eyes that look completely within your soul and make you beg to be hers, includes a series of not one, not two, but four enemas. Each enema is of a differing type. The last one is designed to specifically cause arousal and heightened need for sexual release.

If you know the human body well enough you know that the most sensitive and easily manipulated part of the body is the anal lining. Not only is this lining sensitive, but it also is the one that most easily allows the absorption of things—like drugs or alcohol. The brunette's last treatment of me was a Viagra and X combination. As you can imagine this combination had the rather quick, and I am sure desired effect, of lowering my inhibitions to next to nothing and leaving me with the hardest and longest possible erection.

As the brunette had me hold this last enema in my ass the longest it left the most lasting effects on me as well.

With my skin exfoliated, my ass cleaned out well, my inhibitions lowered and my erection unstoppable I went to the next treatment room. My skin positively glowed. And it probably glowed as much as the look on the next woman's face as I was given to her to be transformed.

Transformed into what you ask? Well a girlie man, a sissy, if you will.

My transformer was a lovely, though short, woman of color with almond-shaped eyes of jade green hue, breasts that were large enough to be considered obscene, an hourglass figure that I thought only existed in fairy tales, hair down to her ankles braided in one long thick rope and wrapped gently around her neck like a snake and a no-nonsense attitude. She ordered me to my knees before her and told me what was expected of me.

"As you are to be a girly man slut I will make you up appropriately," she began. "You also, as a slut, are to be trained while you are in here for your session with me. I will be training your ass as you are transformed into a whore to be used properly."

With that statement said she had me lower myself until my ass was sticking up in the air and my face was pressed against the ground. To further show my obeisance she made me spread my own asscheeks for her so that she could put the butt plug deep within my ass. The butt plug was attached by means of the most usually designed contraption to cause my cock to be pulled as well as my nipples every time my sphincter muscle moved.

I am sure she wanted me to move, but doing so caused a punishment the likes of which most could never imagine. Remember that by this time pain and pleasure was the same thing to me, but even one who craves pain has his or her own limits to it before it just becomes overwhelming.

I am placed, still nude with the butt plug in me, onto what looks like a barber's chair. This chair has an unusual feature though—it attaches to the butt plug in my ass and from there to a motor which can cause the butt plug to swell with air, to warm up, cool down or to thrust in and out of me at various speeds. Of course, it almost goes without saying at this point, I was bound. The features inherent in this chair require it so that I am not hurt—well at least not too much—when it goes to work on me and it begins to perform its magic.

The motor feature is not immediately apparent, but I know something is up when I am forced into a certain position on the chair and then bound to stay that way. My captor/transformer does not wish me blindfolded at this time but rather just the opposite—she wants me to see what she is doing to me every step of the way—thus the reason for being in a room that is completely surrounded by mirrors. Even the floor and ceiling in this room are mirrored. It is like being inside a room of my own duplicates and hers.

What is more is the fact that the barber chair, while standard design for the most part in its construction, is not standard in the materials used in it—it is completely see-through. The chair, it seems to me, seems so natural as if it were made for me and me alone. I don't know if the chair was molded in advance somehow for me or if it fit itself to me somehow, but I was completely locked into the chair and somehow also a part of it simultaneously.

As my mocha dominatrix transformed me with her scissors, rouges, blushes and various other female enhancement products I was forced to watch myself in the numerous mirrors as I became more and more slutty and feminine looking, though not completely feminized. Soon enough it was time for me to take the next step on and I was led to a room where all manner of clothes awaited me.

The woman in control of that room was to not only choose my clothes for me but to school me in the proper way a slut should present himself. Still naked, I was taught the proper way to walk in high heels and to present myself before my mistress in such a way as to be fully available to her every whim and desire.

With a whip in hand the 6 foot 6 inch black Amazon in the tight leather outfit made me march to her beat. I was shown numerous different methods of presenting myself to whatever woman choose to use me. I could feel the marks arise on the various parts of my body as I was quite literally whipped into shape.

Now for someone whose senses are normally extra sharp to begin with the excessively sharpened feeling left by previous treatments left me extremely susceptible to a beating or whipping. I felt every stripe as if I had no other feeling or sense in my body. I was simply a target for this Amazon, a fresh canvas on which for her to paint me in pain. And she was a virtuoso. The woman must have been a whipmistress for several lifetimes to develop such tacit authority and expertise in whipping.

When she was done with me a poultice was applied to my back to take away the pain and make sure that no scars were left. She made sure to show me the results of her work. As I looked at the marks upon my back I realized she had written something there with very accurate hits with the whip. It read, "Pain Slut."

I can only imagine what others seeing it will do when they read it!

Of course I will not have long to imagine. My treatments are almost done.

When I am finally clothed, put into a set of 9" fuck me puts—which pushes me to an obscene 6'9" tall—and removed from the place of my transformation I am told I am now ready to start earning my keep.

I know what is coming—at least I think I do—and I am only slightly reluctant, but looking forward to it.

Now that I am properly prepared the brothel Madam tells me I am to start earning my keep. She tells me that I am to line up with the rest of the whores when new patrons arrive and tell each of them my name and that I have no boundaries and I am available for whatever they wish to use me for.

Like any slut I am dressed to excess and ready to fuck. After many lessons, literally whipped into me, I can strut like a streetwalker, present like a proper submissive and, with my innate sexual skills, along with a few that were taught to me by the other whores and through subliminal messaging in my sleep, I am ready to be a proper whore and make money for the Madam.

As the new customers come through the door they look each and every whore up and down, they pinch them, squeeze them, learn their preferences and what they are open for and what they are not. They look at each of them blond, brunette, redhead, black, white, oriental, male and female and search for the right slut for them to use. I am in this line and totally available. My cock is hard and harnessed beneath my emerald green Japanese-style silk dress. I have a long, blond-haired wig on and a bra that is properly stuffed and weighted to give me the appearance of real breasts. My lips are made up the same color slut red that my nails are and the fake tips are long and designed to be used to get a person's attention. If I could look any more the part of a slut other than having real breasts I don't know how.

Of course I stand out—there are very few 6' whores in 9" heels—but I am a whore now in every sense of the word. I am a tad nervous as everything up until now has been training and I have not previously had to try to get someone to want to use me through the use of my own wiles, but rather I was simply used at will.

I watch closely as the other whores strut their stuff to get the maximum attention from the customer. I watch and learn. Of course really being male I try to adapt what they are doing to get the attention of the female customers that come into the brothel. I always thought all brothel customers were male—boy was I wrong!!

There were several women, even several groups of women, which came into the brothel. They come for several different reasons. Some came just to see what a legal whorehouse is like, some to get sexual experiences that they don't know how to get elsewhere, some for bachelorette parties, some just to simply fuck and I was there for all of them.

I tried my best to be sexy to those who wanted sexy, slutty to those who wanted a slut and available as could be all of those. At least in a brothel there is no need for pretense. Here you can walk up to a woman, while you are dressed in drag, and say, "Would you like to fuck my ass and ride me like a bitch in heat Ma'am?"

No pretenses are needed, though some of the women act like they are and you have to decide just by watching them which are which. Slowly but surely I did indeed learn the tricks of the trade. By simple trial and error I learned how to shake my ass to effect, learned how to come on to women and how to attract them enough that they wanted to buy my services for a ½ hour, an hour, a day, a week or longer.

Some of the women were there to seek their first bisexual experience. Some wanted to see a man humiliated, degraded and whored off. Some wanted to be dominant and still others to submit. Some wanted me to use them, to tell them they were worthless and treat them as such and other wanted to use me the same way.

I found ways to service all of these women's needs, whether their desires and cravings were the same as mine or not.