Friday Rituals: Part V

The next two weeks couldn’t pass by quickly enough. I was as anxious as a whore in church, to quote my mother, and looked at the world through different eyes. I looked at people and more voyeuristically…I wondered if they had their “freak” side, as I referred to mine. I began eyeing people, trying to discern if they too were slaves in their private life, or even tops. I didn’t have enough experience to tell. I was just incredibly curious by now.

The second Friday came. I woke up early, wide awake all at once. I got up out of bed. It was 6 a.m. Seven hours to wait until my next lesson.

I ate a bowl of oatmeal, and decided I’d get in the shower and take extra care with my appearance today. I was motivated. I wanted to please Lady Madonna. I wanted to make her want me if I could. I doubt it would happen, but I was going to try.

In the shower, I looked at my razor. I kept a pretty neat bush, almost a mohawk style, but today, I felt like doing something I’d never done.

Taking a handful of shaving cream, I lathered it over my pubic hair, and using the razor, I began making neat having stripes, taking off the pubic hair bit by bit. After the main mass of it was gone, I took some more shaving cream, lathered up the area again, and this time made my pussy smooth as a baby’s bottom. Standing in the shower, I looked down at myself. I was smooth, naked, and exposed. I could feel the ache beginning in my clit. It was the emotional sensation of doing something not accepted within social norms, at least the way I had been raised. I felt naughty, and naughty felt good. Naughty felt hot.

I was determined not to masturbate. I wanted to build up this feeling all day. I wanted to torture myself as long as I could stand it.

I dried off, and rubbed lotion into my body. The devilish thought of wearing a dress with no panties while Tony massaged lotion into my legs and feet entered my mind, and I decided I’d give Tony a little eye candy to go with his tip today.

I blow dried my hair, and began applying my makeup. I usually wear a little make-up, but today felt like a special occasion, and I went all out. Finishing with a dark brick red lipstick, I went back to working on my hair. I decided to sweep my blonde tresses into a French twist. I wanted to go for the controlled look, emulating Lady Madonna and Lysistrata.

Walking to the closet, I wasn’t sure what I’d wear. It was fall, which meant a chill was in the air, but then I decided a slave was supposed to endure such elements. I grabbed a red dress that was slightly above the knee, but with long sleeves.

Before I put on the dress, I looked at myself in the mirrored doors of my closet. In my eyes, my breasts were my best assets. Fairly large, but still perky due to being single and not having children, and nipples that weren’t bashful about standing up. I looked at my shaven pussy. It was foreign to me. The mons was now clearly evident. I wondered what Lady Madonna would say. The tingling began in my clit again. I quickly slid on the red dress before I changed my mind about masturbating. I opened my closet doors and found my matching red heels, 3 ½ inches high.

I didn’t look in the mirrored doors again, but I felt BAD. BAD in every sense of the word, proper and slang.

It was finally 9 a.m., and I could go to the salon.

Poor Tony.

* * *

I knew as soon as I walked through the doors of the salon I had everyone’s attention. Customers didn’t normally come in for pedicures and other treatments in dresses and heels.
Annie piped up, “Sarah, good morning, may we help you?”

“Yes please, pedicure and a fill. I’d like Tony for the pedicure.”

The look on Annie’s face told me she wasn’t so sure this was proper due to my attire, but I was the customer.

“Pick your color, and Tony will be right with you.” He was putting the last coats of polish on a large woman in sweatpants. His reward was on its way, little did he know.

I picked red-it seemed to be the color of the day. Red for the sex I wanted, red for the slut in me, red for the empowerment I could feel building within.

I waited ten minutes, and Tony motioned me to a chair.

“Sarah, you sure you want me do you pedicure?” he asked in his broken English, eyeing my dress.

“Yes, Tony, you do an excellent job. I want you to do it,” I purred.

He turned on the water as I kicked off my heels and eased into the massage chair. The women in the salon were eyeing me suspiciously. Annie piped up from her station. “Sarah, you dressed up today!”

I smiled my best innocent smile. “Yes, I have a date right after I’m finished here.”

“Ohhh…” What could poor Annie say to this?

Tony laid a towel across my lap. I smiled inwardly. As if this would protect him from the vision of my bare pussy.

My feet were immersed in the hot bubbling water, and I closed my eyes. Beginning the ritual. Tony tapped my left leg, and I lifted it out of the water. He began clipping the nails and cuticles and dead skin from my foot. I kept my eyes closed, and relaxed. I didn’t want to shock him yet. I kept my legs together like a good girl, and thought nasty thoughts about how these parlor chairs could be used. I knew by the end of the day I’d need my rabbit vibrator.

Tony tapped my right leg, and I switched. He began the same process, and I watched him. He wasn’t looking up at me – he was concentrating on my feet, making sure each toe looked perfect.

Finally he finished, and immersed my feet again. He took my left foot and scrubbed the bottom, then my right foot, and finally dried them off. He pushed a button on the chair remote and moved it back to position me better for the massage.

Here we go, I thought.

He put lotion on my left leg, and that’s when I began. I moved my right foot a little more to the right, spreading my legs. I very slightly pulled the towel up on my lap. Tony looked up as he began my massage, and I knew – the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He could see my pussy. I stared at him as his eyes met mine in surprise. His hands began massaging harder. I moved my right foot a little more, and tilted my left knee to the left a tad. I glanced around me-the other salon employees were busy with their customers and hadn’t noticed.

Sweat beaded up on Tony’s forehead. He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help it. His hands rubbed higher up my calf, and I could imagine laying on my stomach, feeling those hands massaging the back of my legs, up my ass, and parting my cheeks to expose my pussy. I squirmed in my chair.

Sadly, it was time to change legs. I straightened out my left leg, and bent my right leg for him to massage. Again, the same game. Slide the left foot, tilt the right knew. The furtive glances, the sweat on his face.

I didn’t want Tony in reality. There was nothing attractive about him. We were from two different worlds. It was the game. It was the danger of being caught. It was the furtiveness of it all. I had power over someone else, albeit a small bit of power.

I wondered if he was married. I wondered if he would masturbate to the image of my shaven pussy, or would he fuck his wife thinking about my pussy?

The massage continued, and I ached to feel those fingers massaging right at the point where my legs became my ass cheeks.

God help me, I’m going to hell, I thought guiltily.

Tony finished, and began cleaning the lotion off of my toes so he could polish them. When he was done polishing them, I gave him a $10 tip. He blushed, said “Thank you,” and scurried off to the back.

Annie asked me to sit in front of her while she did my fill. But Annie wasn’t talking to me. My guess is I wasn’t as discreet as I thought I had been.

We sat there in silence, and I pondered my appointment with Lady Madonna. The wetness between my legs was screaming at me to hurry up.

When Annie was done, I paid for everything and I gave her a large tip, too. No sense in getting myself banned from here, I thought. This is a part of my Friday ritual. I need this place. I walked out, focused on my next adventure.