L.T.
Magistrate
This is my first foray into fiction. Be gentle dear reader. The following is based on an idea presented by roxie in her post: http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/top-cat-whipping.3343/page-48#post-143173 It appears here with her approval. I wrote it at the suggestion of Barbaria1 in the same thread. It would not have appeared here without her encouragement and assistance.
The Whipping Salon
Most of my friends are a bit envious of my job. Most of their wives don't like me, fearful that I'll somehow infect their husbands.
A lot of the wives snub my wife for "allowing me" to work in such an industry. As if she had a say in what I do? I find it amusing.
As a boy, my father drilled it into me. A person spends a great portion of their life at their job. Better find something I enjoy, and then figure out how to make a living at it. As a teenager, I was pretty sure I would need a career as a mattress tester or a porn star.
As an adult, I have actually come fairly close. I work in a whipping salon. I work with beautiful naked women. And as whipping is a "specialty service", I am not expected to clean showers or fold towels when I don't have an appointment. I usually sit in the lounge reading or watching television. But I am also free to lie down on my whipping bench and take a nap. So the lesson was well learned, though in a manner I am sure my father did not intend.
Although I may have a job that is the envy of my friends, as it turns out, whipping women for a living is just that … work.
Sure there are benefits. Money being equal, I definitely prefer a clientele of young beautiful women over fat, ugly, hairy old men. I have done both (Had to start somewhere.) If whipping men paid better, I would still be doing that. Lucky for me, the real money is in catering to the young female slaves kept by wealthy men. Or wealthy women into "slave chic".
And there are the naked hugs. Being hugged by a naked woman because she is glad to see you, or she really appreciates the service just rendered ... well it is, ego boosting and life affirming, hard to convey in words. To have a woman I only know professionally, wrap her arms tight around me while pressing her naked breasts against my chest, kissing my cheek, yielding genuine affection … how could any man not feel good about himself in such a moment.
That is my soft side.
The rest of me is more interested in the feel of a folded bill being pressed into my palm.
And I certainly do not mind when a naked hug pushes against an erection, eliciting a knowing smile or a giggle, and an offer of a quick blowjob.
What I do not like is when a rich bitch wants me to ejaculate on her freshly acquired marks while she is still tied to the bench. How many times does she think I can cum in a day? And why in hell would I want to spend one masturbating myself. That requires a sense of entitlement that makes me wish I had whipped her harder, with a stiffer, thinner whip. Not that I have never obliged. But only when the bill was pressed into my palm before I secured her, and the bill had better been large.
So you can understand what I do, I will share a typical day. Like everyone else, I get up when I would rather stay in bed. I dress and have breakfast. I fight traffic to get to my place of employment.
The salon includes a full spa, so I do enjoy the perks of shaving in the steam room and showering in one the fabulous multi-head showers. I don my mostly leather salon uniform, grab a cup of coffee, and read the morning paper in the lounge while awaiting my first appointment.
When a client arrives, one of the attendants meets her at the reception desk and escorts her to the locker room. After undressing her, the attendant will lead her by her leash to various areas where the services she has selected are performed. Most of the clients are taken to the steam room for a vigorous salt rub to exfoliate the skin and prepare it for the whip. This is usually followed by an oil massage to increase blood flow to the capillaries. The extra blood flow increases sensitivity and leaves deeper colored marks. The oil also enhances the sting. Marks show better and last longer when the skin is properly prepped.
I always let the attendants do the salt rubs. If I am not too busy, I prefer to do the oil massages myself. The salon masseurs are prone to leave the skin to oily or to dry. Plus I always enjoy using my hands to rub the warm oil into their breasts, buttocks, or other areas to be marked. And I am able to secure them to my whipping bench before the massage, ensuring the oil is not disturbed by brushing against something before they are brought to me. An even layer of oil provides consistent coloring along the length of each mark … very important to discriminating clientele.
Ever since slave chic became all the rage, fashion conscious women have become very particular about their lash marks. Location, spacing, and patterns MUST match her outfit precisely. Couture clothing designed for the well whipped woman can be very specific in what is meant to be displayed and what is to be suggestively hidden. Marks must compliment the lines of a dress. No client of mine will ever be photographed on the Red Carpet with a bad case of "lash clash"!
Ladies wishing an appointment at The Whipping Salon may pm a description of themselves, services requested, and any details to be included. I'll write about your visit and you can follow with a post of your experience.
When booking an appointment, please describe your new dress and the marks required to accent it. (give me some help with the fashion thing) Are there any other services you would like to book? The Whipping Salon is certainly a full service salon offering nearly any imaginable service. Are you presented as slave or free? Any picture you would like included in the story? A basic description of you I can use. I am not looking for a long narrative. Just a list of details I can work with.
The Whipping Salon
Most of my friends are a bit envious of my job. Most of their wives don't like me, fearful that I'll somehow infect their husbands.
A lot of the wives snub my wife for "allowing me" to work in such an industry. As if she had a say in what I do? I find it amusing.
As a boy, my father drilled it into me. A person spends a great portion of their life at their job. Better find something I enjoy, and then figure out how to make a living at it. As a teenager, I was pretty sure I would need a career as a mattress tester or a porn star.
As an adult, I have actually come fairly close. I work in a whipping salon. I work with beautiful naked women. And as whipping is a "specialty service", I am not expected to clean showers or fold towels when I don't have an appointment. I usually sit in the lounge reading or watching television. But I am also free to lie down on my whipping bench and take a nap. So the lesson was well learned, though in a manner I am sure my father did not intend.
Although I may have a job that is the envy of my friends, as it turns out, whipping women for a living is just that … work.
Sure there are benefits. Money being equal, I definitely prefer a clientele of young beautiful women over fat, ugly, hairy old men. I have done both (Had to start somewhere.) If whipping men paid better, I would still be doing that. Lucky for me, the real money is in catering to the young female slaves kept by wealthy men. Or wealthy women into "slave chic".
And there are the naked hugs. Being hugged by a naked woman because she is glad to see you, or she really appreciates the service just rendered ... well it is, ego boosting and life affirming, hard to convey in words. To have a woman I only know professionally, wrap her arms tight around me while pressing her naked breasts against my chest, kissing my cheek, yielding genuine affection … how could any man not feel good about himself in such a moment.
That is my soft side.
The rest of me is more interested in the feel of a folded bill being pressed into my palm.
And I certainly do not mind when a naked hug pushes against an erection, eliciting a knowing smile or a giggle, and an offer of a quick blowjob.
What I do not like is when a rich bitch wants me to ejaculate on her freshly acquired marks while she is still tied to the bench. How many times does she think I can cum in a day? And why in hell would I want to spend one masturbating myself. That requires a sense of entitlement that makes me wish I had whipped her harder, with a stiffer, thinner whip. Not that I have never obliged. But only when the bill was pressed into my palm before I secured her, and the bill had better been large.
So you can understand what I do, I will share a typical day. Like everyone else, I get up when I would rather stay in bed. I dress and have breakfast. I fight traffic to get to my place of employment.
The salon includes a full spa, so I do enjoy the perks of shaving in the steam room and showering in one the fabulous multi-head showers. I don my mostly leather salon uniform, grab a cup of coffee, and read the morning paper in the lounge while awaiting my first appointment.
When a client arrives, one of the attendants meets her at the reception desk and escorts her to the locker room. After undressing her, the attendant will lead her by her leash to various areas where the services she has selected are performed. Most of the clients are taken to the steam room for a vigorous salt rub to exfoliate the skin and prepare it for the whip. This is usually followed by an oil massage to increase blood flow to the capillaries. The extra blood flow increases sensitivity and leaves deeper colored marks. The oil also enhances the sting. Marks show better and last longer when the skin is properly prepped.
I always let the attendants do the salt rubs. If I am not too busy, I prefer to do the oil massages myself. The salon masseurs are prone to leave the skin to oily or to dry. Plus I always enjoy using my hands to rub the warm oil into their breasts, buttocks, or other areas to be marked. And I am able to secure them to my whipping bench before the massage, ensuring the oil is not disturbed by brushing against something before they are brought to me. An even layer of oil provides consistent coloring along the length of each mark … very important to discriminating clientele.
Ever since slave chic became all the rage, fashion conscious women have become very particular about their lash marks. Location, spacing, and patterns MUST match her outfit precisely. Couture clothing designed for the well whipped woman can be very specific in what is meant to be displayed and what is to be suggestively hidden. Marks must compliment the lines of a dress. No client of mine will ever be photographed on the Red Carpet with a bad case of "lash clash"!
Ladies wishing an appointment at The Whipping Salon may pm a description of themselves, services requested, and any details to be included. I'll write about your visit and you can follow with a post of your experience.
When booking an appointment, please describe your new dress and the marks required to accent it. (give me some help with the fashion thing) Are there any other services you would like to book? The Whipping Salon is certainly a full service salon offering nearly any imaginable service. Are you presented as slave or free? Any picture you would like included in the story? A basic description of you I can use. I am not looking for a long narrative. Just a list of details I can work with.
