Date: Fri, 24 Mar 2023 09:10:48 +0100
From: I Dusk
Subject: My New Personal Assistant 15

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  Hello dear readers.

  This story is fiction, created for entertainment only, and I kindly ask
  you not to repost this story without my permission.

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Chapter 15 - Negotiation


"Natasha gets this done monthly. Why do you think I will tell you
anything just cos you want to pull some of my hair out?"
"First, you obviously never had anything waxed, did you? Second, it's not
only about dealing with the pain. You don't have to answer aloud but
think: What does your chest hair represent?"
Masculinity. I love having the hair on my chest. I find it manly most of
all. But I find Thomas masculine as well, and he is smooth as they can
be.

"Who knows, maybe you will like it. Even getting used to it, it has its
perks. I had a slave who eventually begged me for it. So proud at first,
so spiteful, so masculine. Ginger. I loved his fur. It was special. You
don't see that every day, not with a body like he had. It wasn't the most
important thing, but I must admit it wasn't the same for me without it."
Thomas stared at that wax as he was saying that nostalgically.

"What happened to him?"
"We split. He now has a great Master. They are married and even have a
daughter. They seem happy. He still waxes to this day, though. Well, I
suppose his Master does the honors."
"How do you know that?"
"He kept swimming even after we broke up. I see him often. We go to the
same pool. Some habits are hard to break."
"Are you jealous?"
Thomas laughed.
"No, I am not possessive, Matt. I see he is happy, and I am glad about
that. I was the one who decided it was over, and it was years ago."

"Then why are you telling me about him?"
"Now you sound a bit concerned," he smirked at me. "The reason is that I
haven't waxed anyone since. You laying here like that just reminded me of
him."
"Why haven't you?"
"I love my man masculine. I want to be with a man. I want to see him as
one. And I love the feeling of that hair on my skin. Honestly said, I was
worried that the same thing that happened to Peter might happen to
others."

I thought about it. It's not like I thought I would lose something. Just
the idea of having it done like this felt... emasculating... I didn't like
that one bit. If he loves guys with chest hair, why does he want to wax
them off me? Is he trying somehow to like me less?
"Yet you don't worry that it will happen to me?"
"Part of me hopes it will," he gave me a severe look, "but that's not
that simple. You will see. Mind is such a complex marvel."

"Are you trying to drive me away, Thomas?"
"Yes."
"And you are trying to make me less desirable for you, am I right?"
"In a way. But I also want to see you suffer and realize that's what
being with me is."
"Do you seriously think I will be less masculine if I won't have chest
hair?"
"It's not only about not having them, Matt. It's about having them taken
away against your will. It's about your self-image. Because, when you
will look into the mirror, with me fucking your ass raw, holding you by
the throat and making you beg me for my cum. Trust me, slut. When you see
yourself like that, spread for me like a hungry whore. Then you will know
if that means something to you." he ran with his fingers over my chest
with a longing look and a slight smile.

He looked at me seriously.
"You can always use the safe word."
"No." Why the fuck was this making me so damn hot?
"What is his name?"
"Fuck you."
He smirked and steered it.
"It's ready. You have more than enough time to decide. This will take a
little while to take all of it off."

He sat on my pelvis with each leg at my side.
"Tell me, Matt. You did know I would rip this on you, didn't you?"
"Yeah," I breathed shallowly, not wanting this and anxiously trying to
find a way to stop him.
"Good, I suppose you can make another appointment for him when you are
now buying every guy you fuck a new suit. You can have a costly hobby
like this.
"Don't you dare, fucker!"
He ripped it open, and I shook, but not from the excitement this time,
just sheer worry.
He pulled the sides of the fabric away, staring at me.
"That's the thing you don't get, Matt. You love pushing me, begging me
to punish you, yet you don't realize that punishment is not something
one should enjoy. I can give you painful pleasure as a reward, yet you
keep choosing to be punished. So for once, I am determined to grant you a
real one."

I was feverishly trying to find a way to stop this! There is no way
Natasha won't notice that.
"Counter offer!"
"What?"
"I want to give you a counteroffer!"
"I am listening."
"You will not wax anything! We will meet in January instead of February.
Seventh. Yes, January seventh that's a month from now. And in return, I
will tell you everything."
"You will tell me everything eventually, Matt."
"And how can you be sure I will tell you the truth?"
"Do not play with me, slut!" he growled.
"Look, I know you care! I can see that. You like me! Yeah, I know, I am
sorry I am not like that, but I still care about this!"
"Your chest hair?"
"No! Fuck that! I mean what we have, whatever that is."
"Right. Still, you will tell me what happened."
"I will if you let me lose now. Fuck me as we did over the weekend, and
you let me see you in January. I will tell you everything."
"What if I don't agree, Matt?"
"Then I will endure this all! And you fucking know I will. And I will
make up the most believable story you could ever hear, taunting you each
time with it. You will never know what the truth is!"
"I am not playing this game, slut." he was angry. Good, I could see he
cares!
"Then agree to let me go. Let me see you in a month, and I will tell you
what happened."
"How can I know you will tell the truth this time?"
"I can prove it to you! I will prove it to you. I will just need my
phone."
He looked angry, yet he was considering that.

"You can choose. Either I will wax your chest and all from the waist
down, then agree to meet you in a month, or I will not wax anything, but
I will see you in three."
"Why legs also?"
"Cos I want to. Chest only is not that big punishment on its own"
"How long does it takes to grow back?"
"Depends on how fast your hair grows. About that month."
"Do I get to fuck with you either way?"
His lips curved involuntarily up. That was so satisfying.
"Yes."
"Then go on with it fucker, but I want your dick in me as you will do
it."
I saw him take a sharp breath. He wanted that as well.

"So, I will take all of this off," he combed through the hair on my
chest, "while I fuck you. And you will answer me truthfully on
anything."
"Yes."
"Then I will wax your sore hole, butt, and legs."
"Then you better fucking take me in front of that mirror!"
"Fuck, Matt, you are the worst thing that could happen to me."
"I take that as a compliment."
"I am not sure if you should."

"And then I will come here January seventh."
"Why seventh?"
"I will have a birthday."
"You want to spend your birthday with me?"
"Well, yeah." I definitely don't want to spend it alone with blue balls.
"You are the most confusing person I've ever met, Matt."
"Thanks?"
The corners of his mouth shot up in a grin, and he just shook his head.
Is he still angry? He didn't seem so now.

"Thomas?"
"Yes?"
"Please, kiss me." I purred, knowing how much it trills him to hear me
like that. Yes, I was well aware that he liked me. Hell, it was hot,
knowing that, despite him being a man. He was one spectacle of a man.
He leaned closer, and his lips were just above mine. I don't know why,
but I craved them so much! I love feeling his tongue in my mouth. Kissing
him could be so demanding and satisfying. I raised my head toward him,
and that prick moved away again. I growled in hopelessness.
"No."
He instead went to my chest and scratched it with his fingers lightly. He
licked my neck and brushed his face in my fur.
"What are you doing, Thomas?"
"Hush, boy."
I just watched him. He was now nearly adorable. As if he was giving them
goodbye. I realized that some of that tension between us had disappeared.
I thought it would be less hot like that, but as if something else
replaced it. It was calming and warm. I wanted to kiss him now even more.
"Thomas, please."
He looked at me.
"Very well, Matt. I agree. Seventh."
I smiled. "Seal it with a kiss?" it's weird trying to be cute. It's
much easier to be demanding and rough. But I wanted him so bad now.

He smirked but leaned to me and kissed me with such a slow, tingling kiss
that I pulled the ropes on my wrists in desperate need to hold him. We
kissed for a little while, and my dick was hard, pressing on the clothes
between us. How much I wanted to be with him now.
What is happening to me? I came here to be hurt, drawn in pain and
pleasure, yet I am here yearning to be kissed by him and hold him close...
He let go of me and stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"I am going to prep your skin."
"You don't need to do this, you know? I know you like them too."
"Matt, I am a man of my word. It's going off."
"No... Fuck!"

Now that I saw it was really happening, I started to get frustrated. As
if I was hoping the whole time that I could somehow change his mind.
Fuck! But there is no way I will be celibate for three months instead.
Was so frightening the not cumming part? Or me imagining that I won't
see him for three months? The mere knowledge that I knew the answer was
confusing me... Why...?
I looked at his hands, veins traveling them, his solid muscular chest as
he was bending over me, wiping my chest with something. I looked at his
neck, the hot vein I loved so much, his angular jaw and dark blue eyes
concentrating. He was beautiful. "How can a man be so beautiful and
masculine at the same time?"
He looked at me. Did I say that out loud? Damn! What's happening to me?
I turned away, flustered. I must have been beetroot red. My face was
burning.

I suppose he finished after a while as he moved to my legs, untying them
and spreading them with his knees. I looked up, and he was on all fours
above me. Watching me closely.
We just stared at each other for a moment, silent. There was no
aggression to him now. I should be missing it. Why don't I? Is just the
thought of having my chest waxed making me softer?
Bullshit! That's the silliest thing I could think of, yet part of me was
worried. Something is definitely happening here, and it was scaring the
shit out of me. I don't want to be like this!
"Get on with it, pretty boy," I chose to act mad--anything than this
weird softness.
He frowned a little and then smirked.
"As you wish, slut."

Thomas opened my pants and roughly took them off, leaving me in those
Brandon's briefs.
"Classy. I must say I like his style," he said with a weird smirk. He
took the hem of the shirt in his hand, examining it. "Seems expensive."
"I don't suppose it's cheap,"
"So, you shoot high. Good to know. I suppose if I ever lend you to
someone, I will go for some truck driver or something like that."
"You will never lend me to anyone. You are bluffing."
He just smirked at me. I don't know if he just tried to make me worried
or if he meant it. Hell, I didn't even know how I felt about something
like that. But my thoughts disappeared in my scream as I felt him raise
my legs and rip the briefs on me.

"Fuck!" I wasn't expecting that. My dick shot up, and a precum oozed
on that torn cotton. He ripped one huge hole, exposing my whole butt,
letting just parts hang around my thighs, and that prick left my dick
covered.
"Keep those legs up like that," he put my legs in the most
uncomfortable position, spread wide up in the air. I could hold it for
some time but not long without support.
"Like this?"
"Yes"
"For how long?"
"The longer you can make it, the more prepped you will be for my dick,"
he grinned as he dived into my crack.
"Fuck!" I screamed out of pleasure and frustration. I felt his tongue
licking my hole, and ecstasy ran through me, yet my legs started shaking.
I moved them slightly. He looked at them but continued.
I moaned and tried to enjoy it the most, but those fucking legs up like
this were distracting. I tried my best, spending a couple of good minutes
like that, feeling his moist tongue inside me. Then I moved them a little
as they started shaking.
He stopped and moved them into the correct position again.
"Last warning."
"Fuck!"
He sucked on my hole, licked it, and spit on it, putting a finger inside.
I tried with everything in me. My thighs were shaking as he pressed a
second finger in and rubbed my prostate. I couldn't stand it anymore. I
screamed and moved them.
He stopped and raised himself on his knees.
"I must say, you lasted longer than I anticipated."
He leaned toward me. "Good boy," and kissed me softly. I just moaned
into his mouth, pressing my covered dick to his.

Thomas unzipped his pants and pulled out his majestic cock.
"Want to suck it?"
"Fuck! Yes, please!"
He smirked and sat on my chest, putting his dick in my mouth. He held my
head hard as he started pounding my throat without a thought about me
gagging or gasping for air. My dick was leaking so much that I thought I
could come with a single stroke. He pulled out and slapped me. "Good
boy," He kissed me again and went between my legs. He took a condom and
put that on, pressing his dick at my crack.
He tilted and grabbed that stick he steered the wax with. Then as if he
got an idea, he asked.
"Was that washed before you put it on?"
"Yeah."
"Good."

He stood up and came with scissors.
"What are you doing?"
"Why should I use my strips when I have here such high-quality cotton?"
"What?"
Bran will kill me! I hope this wasn't his favorite shirt. Hell, I
already need to buy him one anyway, but coming over with a shirt ripped
in front with some buttons missing is different from coming with torn
patches of fabric... Fuck it. So he will laugh at me more. I don't think
it would be worse than him seeing my chest hairless.
Thomas systematically cut a rectangular strip out of one side. He smeared
wax on the far side of my right pec and covered it with the stip. He
looked deeply into my eyes and pushed the dick-head in. I moaned in
anticipation and pleasure.
"What is his name."
I looked at him.
"Bra..aaaaDon!!! Fuuuck you, fucking dick!"

That sadistic fuck just rammed full speed his whole pole into me just as
he ripped part of my chest off. Yes! That's what it felt like! Fuck! The
pain from everything was overwhelming.
He pulled out, letting just his head in again. No! He cut another strip
slowly. Put wax on hair next to that red mark the first one left and
covered it again with a piece of Brandon's shirt. Fuck! No!!
"I am sorry I didn't quite catch that. Repeat it."
I looked at him with a blend of anger and worry. The surprise was nasty,
but knowing now what was awaiting me was worse for some reason.
He raised his eyebrow suggestively, urging me to answer.
"So, again. What is his name?" he sounded nearly sweet. Devil!
I took a deep breath bracing for the next blow.
"Brandon! Fuuuck!" he ripped it again, bottoming into my poor hole, and
repeated the process. No...

"Surname."
I breathed heavily, watching him. I feared this man. I genuinely loved
fearing him.
"Watts!" I groaned in pain.
"Age."
Why the fuck is he starting with such trivial questions? This way, he
will ask a hundred of them till he finishes. Fuck! Is that his plan, this
slow death? I looked at my chest, Fuck! There is a lot to do more... I am
doomed. This is so painful. The worst was there wasn't any thrill in it
for me. I could see he was enjoying it somehow, but for me, it was just
as he described it -- a punishment.

"I asked you a question, slut. Do you know his age?"
I nodded
"Then tell me."
"Thirty-six..." I said through my teeth, breathing deeply as he rammed
in.
Another patch. And his dick pulled out again. This was hell. My hole was
getting slowly used to it, but still, it hurt a lot, and my chest burned.

"Color of his eyes?"
"Seriouuuuusly?" he ripped it again! Why?! "Fucker!!"
"Tsk tsk tsk. You could have saved yourself that."
"Fucking sadist!"
Thomas just smirked, applying more wax and pulling out.
"So? I am ready. You can tell me."
Ready, my ass!
"Blue!" Ouch... I only moaned at this point. Is he trying to make me
hate him? Fucker! He can be cruel. His eyes got this strange glow when he
heard that, was that bad or good?
"Hair?"
For fuck's sake, we will be here for days like this!
"Blond!" I roared, getting used to it all. He is patient; I give him
that. There was maybe fabric for one or two strips to be cut from this
side if he won't start cutting the sleeves. He cut one and repeated that
torture.

I breathed heavily, looking at his smirking face and my raw red chest.
"Height?"
I was pretty much expecting this now. As well as the never-ending
repetition of pulling his dick out and waxing the next part.
"6'2"
"Build?"
"Muscled."
"He also wears glasses, and he is funny as hell!" I barked defiantly at
him. While he was making another strip ready. I saw his eyes darken at my
attitude.

"Occupation?"
Before I could even catch a breath for an answer, he ripped it off and
rammed into me harder than before.
"Fuuck! I didn't answer yet!"
"My bad, I got ahead of myself."
"Owner of start-ups, he then sells them and starts a new one," I
replied before he could cut out a new strip. It was bizarre talking about
Brandon like this.

"Marital status?"
"Should I wait for your dick? You are messing up your tempo!"
He stood up and returned with clamps.
"No! Fucker, no!" I wiggled and pulled on the ropes in frustration and
fear.
"I think you are not taking this seriously enough, slut."
Fuck! I hate clamps! I should maybe move them to my limits! Fuck, those
hurt!
"Now. Marital status."
I was genuinely afraid now. I knew very well how moving those felt. I
didn't want to imagine how pulling the skin next to them would feel. Why
did I want to tease him again? Dumb-dumb idiot!

He held the strip and waited. I took a few sharp breaths getting through
the fear.
"Divo... fuuuck!"
"Divorced!" I roared.
One side of the shirt was missing now. All that was left was a thin strip
with a few buttons and a part on top connecting it with the sleeve.
"Right."

He pulled the second side, cut another strap from it, and repeated the
process.
"How did you meet him?"
"On the street! Fuck! Take those clamps off, please!"
"On the street?" he repeated with a questioning look, deep in my hole.
I squeezed his cock in me, trying to calm down.
"Yeah, when we were twelve. He is my best friend."
He frowned a little but continued cutting the shirt and applying the wax.
I felt his cock throb in me. Yet he was ever so patient.

Thomas pulled out again, leaving in just the head.
"Who fucked who?"
"Hell! No one!"
He looked at me, frowning. Finally! Slowly he cut another part and held
it ready.
"Did you do anything sexual together?"
"No!" he didn't pull this time, didn't trust in. He just watched me
seriously. The shock from not feeling the expected pain felt weird.

"You didn't sleep with him? Yet you made me believe you did?"
"Yeah."
"Why?" he didn't move. Thomas stayed completely still with a severe
look in his eyes.
"I just didn't correct you when you assumed, and you asked about the
shirt, so I answered"
"Why?" he growled as if he knew the answer.
"I wanted to make you angry."
He ripped it without warning and pulled his dick out completely.
"Fuuck!"

"Are you telling the truth?"
"Yes," a sting of guilt ran through me. There was still Damien.
He put his arms on the sides of me and leaned close.
"What are you not telling me?"
"Don't you want to fuck it out of me?"
"I lost the appetite."
Damn... that hurt for some reason. I turned, feeling bad. I felt his hand
on my chin, and he turned my face to him.
"Matt. I need to be able to trust your word. I can see you holding
something from me."

I didn't want to say it because I felt terrible about it. Damn it... I
took a deep breath and told him about Damien. At first, he looked angry,
probably for misleading him by describing the wrong man to him, when in
truth, I nearly fucked the pizza boy, but as I got to that part of him
crying, Thomas's eyes grew sad. As if he understood.
"You told me that you can prove it to me. How?"
"You can call Brandon if you want. He can tell you. If you want, he can
send you a picture of that shirt you ripped. It's still at his place."
"Why didn't you throw it away?"
"I don't know... I just didn't want to."
He looked strangely at me.
"Where is your phone?"
"Jacket."
Thomas stood up and went for my phone.

He straddled me again and made me unlock it. I suppose it wasn't hard to
find Bran's number as I had him there saved by his name.
I heard ringing.
"Hi, Matt, what's... Fuuuck!" I heard Brandon uncontrollably laughing.
Thomas must have FaceTimed him and flipped the camera on me.
"Man! What the fuck?!"
"Wait, Wait! I must record this for guys!" he laughed like a madman.
"Don't you dare, cunt!"
"Matty, when you come out to guys, they have to see this! They would
never forgive me for not recording this! God! I love it. I suppose you
can't see me now, but, man, I am crying here!"
I rolled my eyes and gritted my jaw. Fuck!
"I suppose Thomas is behind the phone, right? Nice to meet you, man! You
really something!"
Thomas looked at me amused and stayed quiet for a moment. He was
grinning.
"Nice to meet you too, Brandon."

"Damn, what a voice. So, how can I be of help, Matty? You look like your
hands are tied," he asked through laughter.
Thomas looked meaningfully at me but couldn't hide the grin.
I rolled my eyes again, feeling extremely uncomfortable, especially
knowing it was being recorded.
"Stop the recording, Bran!"
"No way in seven hells! Not a chance. Now spill it. What do I owe such a
pleasure?"
"I hate you."
"I don't know which one that was for, but I am pretty sure you don't.
What the hell happened to your chest? Did you wax half? Damn! This is
gold!" his laughing was seriously annoying, yet Thomas was now laughing
as well. I had to admit he was pretty like that.
"Ow... did you just look at Thomas? Man! That was the sweetest look I've
ever seen on you." Thomas looked at me with a questioning look. I must
have got bright red and turned away. I hate that guy! He didn't even
laugh when he said it.
"So, you wanted to tell me something?"
"Can you just tell Thomas I was at your place?"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Damn... Thomas, I have no idea who you are, but I like you. Despite...
ehm.. this, but to each his own, I suppose. Yeah, Matt was here, and you
probably don't know this, but just the effort to prove to you that, for
the price of everlasting taunting, he will get for this is unheard of
this cold rock of a man. I am speechless. If ANY woman questioned him
about his whereabouts, he would send her to hell. Damn!"
"Man, seriously, can you stop already?" I already regretted suggesting
this.

"Wait one second. Wait! No! Please tell me that those scraps on your
chests are not my shirt! Seriously man! You owe me like three hundred
dollars. I loved that shirt! Fuck! Man! Not cool!"
"I will buy you a new one!"
"You won't! But trust me. I will find a way for you to repay me. Are my
briefs safe, at least?"
Thomas couldn't stand it anymore and burst into laughter. I had never
heard him laugh out loud like this. It was... satisfying, and I couldn't
help but look at him in awe with a smile on my face.
Brandon stopped talking as well.
There was something special about this moment, I don't know why, but it
was.

"Okay, thank you, Brandon. It was nice to see you. I will hang up now.
We have the rest of his chest and legs to wax."
"Fuck... does it hurt?"
"Yeah."
"Man... I love those pink clumps, by the way," he said with a smile in
his voice, "Enjoy the day, you two. Thomas, send him home in one piece
if possible."
"I will try my best. Bye, Brandon."
"Bye," I heard his chuckle and the tone of ending the call.

"You have one special friend, Matt."
"Yeah, he is special pain in the ass," I snarled and saw Thomas smirk.
"Do I need to really go through with this?"
"Do you want to meet in January?"
"Man! I really hope you will fuck me good after this."
He leaned in, obviously in a great mood, kissed me, and bit my lower lip.
"I will, baby."


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I. Dusk