All day at my boring office job the next day, Wednesday, my throat was a little - not exactly sore, more like...used. It was a constant reminder of how Daddy had played with me last night, letting me be his wanton sextoy slut, and I guess that I had raised the stakes with my denim surprise so no complaining bitch.

I can't stop now, I thought. I have to see it through - it would be like going to see a movie and walking out in the last 10 minutes! But when exactly are the last 10 minutes? It scared me not knowing how deep I would or could go with him but then again, I'm falling for him hard. We are perfect for each others' fucked up s...oh god stop it Trisha...I caught myself doing it; going back and forth in that sissy haze of self-doubt and questioning.

At lunch, I decided to eat alone because I had to think, and my throat situation helped to keep people away from me thinking I had bronchitis or whatever. I went to the park - a beautiful late fall day in the city, a little chill in the air and the buzz of life all around. Then a blessing: HR called on my cell and said to take the rest of the day off since I wasn't feeling well and they didn't want me spreading anything. Great! Thanks for the throat-fucking, Daddy hehe.

I had made the appointment for my piercings, for tomorrow, but figured that if I could get in now during work hours, there would be less people, and less embarrassment. I called the salon and thankfully they said yes, a sweetly androgynousvoice telling me to be there in 45 mins and "does that work for you?"

"Yes, thank you thank you, see you soon," I replied, and hung up.

The salon was about 20 blocks away and the day was nice so I walked. With every block, I got more tense thinking about what was about to happen, and wondering what the place would be like. I had dreamed of this for a long time, making it a part of my fantasy life, and now I'm going to do it. Fuck, I'm nervous...

I got to the salon, a softly masculine brushed-steel-grey motif throughout the walls, with little splashes of color here and there in small orchid vases. And all men. There were a few guys chatting towards the back, and the - do I call him a receptionist? 'Huh' I said to myself, wanting to drink it all in, but also not just gawk like a tourist from Nebraska looking for a Chipotle. Wrong turn! [apologies, Nebraska girls, I love you too.]

"Hi," came the singsong greeting from the front desk.

I turned my head to answer, but paused because he was...he was so beautiful and femme. A stylish thick mop of hair, boyish cut but with a light side feathering, and delicate features, twinkling yellow stone earring studs. Was he wearing very light makeup?

"H..hi..I called for the 1pm change from, from tomorrow?"

"Oh yea! We spoke. Pleasure to have you, first time here correct?"

"Yes."

"Oh great, I love first timers." He giggled girlishly and handed me a clipboard.

"Just fill out your info and sign. First-time piercings, just some legal-medical blah blah you know."

"Oh..I see, ok ok."

I took the clipboard and sat down on one of the modern design chairs. Wow I knew there were places like this of course, but do I really want to do this? 'Just shut up and fill it out,' I told myself, still not over my hesitation and doubt. I closed my eyes to steady my breathing for a minute, feeling a touch of that sissy panic when taking another step deeper, then I heard his voice again.

"Are you ok, honey?"

"Yes," I replied as dryly as I could, swallowing nervously.

"I'll get you some water. And don't worry, it doesn't hurt that bad." He playfully lifted his shirt for just a quick flash, giggling, and showed me just what I needed to see. He had a belly button piercing; a matching yellow stone in silver design dangling and swinging daintily, omg...he must also be a...is he a...

He came back in with a small cold bottle of Evian, and just behind him, someone poked in their head and asked quickly:

"Nick, where's the iPad?"

"In 4," he replied.

I looked up from finishing the paperwork, and he was right in front of me bending down to place the Evian on the side table on a coaster.

He whispered: "I'm Nicole."

I blushed hard and fast and the words just came out of me in her voice:

"I'm Trisha."

"Hi, Trisha," he replied, I mean she replied, quietly smiling at me and said in an almost silent voice:

"It's always scary when you start."

A few minutes later, Nicole/Nick came back in and took me to a private room that seemed to be set up just for piercings and other body jewelry. I looked around at the samples in the pretty glass wall cases, the sterilization tools and, wow, it was another planet away from that backroom tattoo shop stereotype that I had in my mind.

He closed the door behind him, and motioned to a group of glass cases:

"Here are the nipple sets, bellys are to the right. Something you like? let me know."

She started getting the tools and gloves ready and I asked, "Are you the one who is going to..."

"Yeah," she smiled, "Is that ok?"

"Sure! Sure!" I replied eagerly. Oh fuck yes it's ok, it's great, I thought. I felt a lot better, even though I had just been identified as a sissy, that she was one too. "It's great...Nicole, thank you for being kind," I replied quietly, and she smiled at me.

Most of the body jewelry was for 'men' like lots of black, and skulls, steel roses, pride flags in every design. There must be something for...

Oh, there they are, in the back row: pink hearts. Omg can I please, please get those ones? They were each a single pink heart made of a dozen or so pink rhinestones set in silver that went right around the nipple with the post going behind and through it. It was real 'body jewelry' and so femme and slutty/innocent at the same time, just the way Daddy likes.

In the belly button case next to it, I found a cute pink flower with 5 pink jeweled petals in the same shade, dangly and sitting so pretty in a silver setting with a clear rhinestone at the middle of the flower.

Nicole was standing next to me. "Tell me," she said, her voice much more femme and wispy than at the front desk, now that the sissies are all alone.

"Um...the..uh...pink hearts there, and the flower?"

"The cutest," she said knowingly. "Take off your shirt and sit down."

I turned and saw how she had prepared the chair, draped with a fluffy new white towel with the salon's logo on it, warmed and waiting for me. I took my shirt off. It felt so strange unbuttoning this men's button-down office shirt, to get this done to myself. I was fully in it now, I guess.

"Soooo...first piercing ever-ever-ever, right?" she asked me, taking out a new boxed set of the pink hearts from under the glass cabinet.

I nodded.

"Good girl. Trish they are so much fun, you can match them to your clothes and be super cute and discreet." She said it like it was no big deal, obviously a pro at putting the client at ease.

And she whispered as she dabbed my nipples in alcohol, "And I bet he's gonna love them, they always do."

It seemed to take no time at all, or maybe time was standing still. I was pierced, both nipples and belly button. I could hardly believe the look of my chest now, staring down at myself in the chair, so obviously a femme boi chest, someone giving it up for Daddy going there with him, accepting it.

I stepped out of the chair and went to the mirror. 'Just accept it, Trisha', I told myself silently, while my eyes darted between my chest and the ultra-femme reflection in the mirror. The low thrum of the fresh piercings' pain made me think of him, of his flogger, his hand against my face and ass, and how badly I wanted this.

Nicole handed me a small bottle of antibacterial cream with the salon logo on it as I took myself in.

"Don't take them off for six weeks, except to swap out or clean for just a few minutes, and reapply the cream. Also, here's a set of basic barbells and ring that come with it today."

Six weeks?!? Oh wow. Did Daddy...he must have known that...he tricked me...playfully though, I mean I could take them out, but six weeks feeling this? How am I ever going to sleep, to think! I couldn't take my eyes off my chest in the mirror, wondering about different styles, and Daddy, and...

"Trish?" she asked, turning herself to stand next to me in the mirror as we gazed together at our reflections.

"Yea.." I was in a bit of a daze.

"Brows?" She asked me...um...

"What?"

"Look at my eyebrows," she said.

Oh wow they were so...perfect, thinning out so nicely but still sexy and rich.

I immediately turned to the mirror and saw mine, comparing them to her. Holy...mine are a boy's eyebrows, thick and unkempt and yuck! Of course, oh wow. I wanted to cry suddenly and bawl out from fear, "People will know!!"

My shame, my desires, my pain written on my face...I can't...

"Oh my god," I said to myself. "Yes...yes...fucking brows yes."

I turned to her and said quickly before my courage fled:

"Do 'em, please?"

She giggled and replied, "Two cute brows coming up!"

I realize now she was a great upseller, but also she was right. My whole look seemed to change, softening my face, and I could see how eye makeup would work so much better now. Wow, and now I had to do it; I had to show everything to him, to Daddy.

With my receipt, she gave me the salon's card, making sure with a furtive glance, that I saw her name and cell number on the back of the card. I nodded and leaned over the desk.

I never said this more sincerely than right then, "Thank you."

—to be continued
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Pub: 19 Mar 2021 01:01 UTC
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