The Launching of Slave Georgina

When this painful episode was over I thought that was it, but I was mistaken. Mistress now returned to my groin and began applying hot wax from the crease where my thighs joined my lower body and worked her way in towards either side of my vulva, stopping just short of my vaginal opening. The tension I felt was excruciating as I expected every next drop to land on my sensitive lips or clitoris, which was by now standing proud of its folded skin envelope. Oh Yes! I was most definitely turned on by this treatment so close to my genitals. Then came the finale! Mistress began to drip wax in a line from where she had stopped her first curving path and continued it lower. As the wax got closer and closer to my clitoris I became more and more tense. Would Mistress stop or keep going until she had covered my genitals. I soon had the answer as a scorching drip of wax landed right on my swollen clit. I screamed into the gag and twitched violently which elicited another painful slap on the face from Mistress. I desperately grasped the table legs with my hands, bit down hard with my teeth on the gag, held my breath and remained unmoving as Mistress applied the last few drops of wax to my now shrivelled clit, its envelope of skin and the lips of my vagina. The pain was excruciating and I was sure I was being scarred for life!

"Voilà!" Mistress shouted and the crowd cheered and clapped. I heard the cage door open and there shortly followed a number of bright flashes as I heard the motor wind of a camera operating. Then the crowd of people began shuffling past me around the table as they were all obviously admiring Mistress' handiwork. I heard numerous comments of appreciation and praise, intermingled with gasps of wonder and photographic flashes as people filed past for ten minutes or more. When I was finally released by Mistress she started by releasing the nipple clamps. The fire that blazed into my nipples was excruciating and I screamed long and loud into the gag which fortunately almost completely muffled the noise. My blindfold and gag were removed followed by the cuffs that held my limbs to the table legs. I was assisted to rise slowly by Mistress' two slaves of the night as they kept my torso straight. This prevented me from bending at my stomach and so cracking the picture Mistress had drawn. I looked down and tried to see what had been drawn, but with little success. Mistress led me to one of the full length mirrors in the hall and I could finally view her work. I held my breasts out in front of me by my tender nipples in order to get the same picture as everyone else. It was a country scene drawn in different colours of candle wax that had a chequer board of coloured fields, mostly green but some yellow, one blue and a red, that was bisected by a winding black road. The road led from between the white, snow-capped, brown mountains of my breasts to meander across my body until disappearing between the two green fields that lay either side of my genitals.

It was only then, as I admired the beautiful piece of art that Mistress had transformed me into, that I knew I had made the right choice. She understood what I was and knew what I could become, even if I didn't.

I was ordered to stay as upright as possible to prevent the wax cracking and falling off my skin and make my way home. Mistress' slave removed the cuffs and helped my on with my coat and I left the club and headed home by taxi. Unfortunately, I left some fragments of fallen wax in the back of the cab which I hope were not too difficult for him to clean up. At home I had a cold shower, as instructed by Mistress, to prevent the wax melting in hot water and clogging my drainage pipes. The wax peeled off fairly easily but was a bitch to clean up from the shower tray. My clit and lips stung for a couple of days after but soon there was nothing to show the trouble Mistress had gone to in order to turn me into a piece of art.

On the Tuesday Mistress telephoned me whilst I was at work and asked to speak to my boss, which alarmed me about what she would tell him, but there was no need to panic. Mistress was arranging for Louise to have an interview for my position so that she had something to live on when she left her service. Mistress also asked me for the contact details of my Landlord so that she could arrange for Louise to move in on that Saturday.

So! There it is. How I met and joined Mistress as her slave. I won't say that it has been an easy two and a half years to date, but it is still what I want and enjoy (mostly!). As I have said before, it beats what I consider to be the drudgery of waiting tables and I am well looked after, as will become apparent from future chronicles I write of my life as a slave. I hope you enjoyed reading this and are happy to be a little more aware of my background and what led to my decision to become a lifestyle slave. I recently posted 'Slave Georgina's Weekly Routine' which describes the duties I carry out for Mistress on a daily basis. If you have not already done so I urge you to read it in order that, along with this article, you will hopefully understand more about why I consider that what may be normal everyday events and outings for the general public are so special and enjoyable to me.

Future revelations of my life will concentrate on the more unusual and pleasurable activities I have enjoyed during my service with Mistress. Long may it continue and long may I enjoy it. As you will see, the rewards far outweigh the servitude, at least in my opinion.

Thank you again for reading.

Slave Georgina.