Experiences At The Surgery Pt 04

This is the 4th part of my story. All characters are over 18. There is some fetish content in this chapter. If that offends you please look elsewhere. Jb.

*****

Chapter 1

The pattern of finding a white envelope on my doormat at odd times of the day continued. It was Monday night when I got home from work that I received the next letter from Marion.

It had been a tiring day. A client had been critical of some of my work from the previous week. I'd rushed some basic research work on a company to get it finished before my lunch date with Fay. They had complained to Dawn, my boss, and she'd hauled me over the coals that afternoon.

I kicked off my shoes, then went to the bedroom to get out of my work clothes and into my sweats. Finally, I made a pot of Earl Grey tea and then settled on the couch to read what Marion had in store for me.

"Jane

Your next appointment is this coming Saturday at 6pm.

We'll be exploring your tolerance to pain and also reconciling your punishment log, following events at your last treatment session. You know now what I require of you.

Please purchase a high waisted white lace thong, wear it from Thursday onwards and attend to your hygiene properly this time. That means your pubic hair must be completely removed and your back passage properly cleaned.

There will be two people in attendance who will be assisting me. Don't be late.

You must from now on cease wearing any form of antiperspirant, and the dresses and blouses you wear henceforth must be sleeveless.

If my memory serves me correctly you have a hair appointment with Fay on Saturday at 4pm. Don't miss it. Toni will meet you and ensure my wishes are attended to. You should come to The Firs immediately afterwards.

Matron."

I contemplated the letter as I drank the tea.

Marion had teased me by telling me some things but not everything that would constitute my next "treatment".

It was all done deliberately to make me nervous and hike my anticipation.

There were three things I could see that would push my limits.

Firstly I'd always had a fairly low pain threshold. As a child a visit to the dentist was something I'd dreaded.. How far would "exploring my pain tolerance" go?...

The next thing was the presence of other people. Exploring my submissive side was fine in the presence of my "teacher", but two other people there would be challenging.

One would probably be Solange...but the other? Would it be someone I knew such as Julie or even Toni? And what would be their role?

I sensed that if pain was the overriding theme Solange would be involved in its administration. What had Fay said? A "sadistic little lesbian" I thought were her words...I shivered slightly, thinking about Solange in that black corset flexing the crop. Julie's buttocks had been badly beaten...Could I endure the same, and would there be any pleasure in the experience..?

Lastly, there was the bit about Toni ensuring Marion's wishes were attended to when Fay did my hair. Marion had hinted already that my position as a trainee might mean losing my long hair.

Now with this latest letter I was facing that distinct possibility.

I rose from the couch and went and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

My hair had been below my shoulders for years, and my mother had always described it as my crowning glory. I had never dyed it or been tempted to cut it short. It was part of my protective blanket and was one of my best features. Could I cope with losing it, or was this the "Beetroot" moment when I chickened out?

I stripped off my top, found some hair clips and experimented with my hair for a while, pinning it up into various styles to see how it would look. My chin had always been slightly too big and long hair drew attention away from it. Every style I tried made it look bigger!

Marion was a cunning Domme...she had deliberately put an obstacle in front of the Treatment session so I could not explore the limits of my sexuality until she had got her way. It was a real dilemma...

I scraped my hair into a sort of pixie look, and then pinned it up so it looked like it was long bob. The former looked worryingly masculine, but a long bob looked rather fetching as I turned from side to side. Yes, a long bob might just be acceptable, but a shorter style was going to be a real sacrifice...

Troubled by these developments I went to the kitchen and made a risotto. I opened a bottle of Chardonnay to calm myself down. I drank the first glass hurriedly and it seemed to make no difference. By the end of the second I began to unwind a little.

Perhaps the best thing was to give up now? But then, would I ever find someone like Marion again?? I ate my risotto. It tasted like cardboard. I decided on an early night, but then couldn't sleep. I imagined Solange wielding instruments of pain in every corner of the darkened bedroom. I was restless and troubled.

~

Things got progressively worse as the week went on. The weather got hotter, and Marion's latest instruction not to use any anti perspirant was hard to cope with. My armpits were now a thick mat of short dark brown fur. This held my sweat and I felt damp most of the day...

I resorted to wearing a cardigan over a blouse or dress, but as each day wore on the odour as I sweated became more and more noticeable. It was very humiliating. At one meeting with Dawn I saw her pull a face as she leaned in towards me to point something out.

I blushed to my roots...

On the Wednesday lunchtime I walked into town to buy the required underwear. It was in the high 70's that day and the sun was beating down.

Standing in the adult shop I looked again at the section with the handcuffs and floggers on display. I was a mere three days from experiencing the kiss of such things on my bottom. My anticipation was building, and my panties felt hot and moist as I left the shop clutching the new underwear in its bright coloured plastic bag.

As I walked back up the high street I called into the pharmacy. I was looking for something to use to conduct an enema so there would be no more mishaps. The woman pharmacist pulled a noticeable face when I asked for what I wanted, and she suggested I went online as they did not stock such things...

That evening I did, and found numerous suppliers of medical equipment who could supply what I needed. The variety was bewildering, considering the rather basic task it was all designed to fulfill. Some of the nozzles I recognised as having been in the cupboard in the Treatment room, and their function was now all too apparent. I found a site that could offer guaranteed 24 hour delivery and ordered a basic bag kit..

On Thursday the weather was the hottest day of the year. I showered and washed my hair and put on my coolest white silk sleeveless blouse and a navy skirt. The high waisted thong was uncomfortable, the front seam in the crotch sawed up and down my openings as I moved. That had never happened when I had my full bush. Another deliberate ploy from Marion no doubt. It caused a couple of moments of alarm through the day, and I wondered whether it was obvious to my colleagues that I was continually adjusting my panties...

That evening the parcel arrived and I spent some time assembling the enema kit. A frisson of excitement went through me when it was finally ready, the next treatment session was now only two days away...

On Friday I woke with a brilliant idea in my head. I remembered I had Fay's mobile phone number and decided I'd ring her that evening to talk about the appointment.

That day, the weather had cooled down so I was able to keep a cardigan on. Everything at work seemed to be going OK, despite the fact that I was a bag of nerves, until Dawn requested a meeting that afternoon at short notice.

I made my way to her office for the 4pm meeting. She invited me in and told me to close the door. As a director she had an informal sitting area near the window and she directed me to sit on her couch, almost next to her.

Anxiety and trepidation that she would be able to detect my damp armpits just made matters worse. I sat on the edge of the couch wondering why she had asked to see me.

"Jane, I just wanted to have an informal chat about your work again. Is everything alright? You seem to be distracted, and I've had another comment from a client that your normal attention to detail is lacking.."

My mouth was suddenly dry...

She listed out the problems with my research. There were some omissions I couldn't deny..

"I'm sorry Dawn. I've been a bit troubled of late. If you want me to go back over the research, I can do it again at the weekend."

"Yes, I think you should. Get it to me by Monday will you? Oh and one other thing I've noticed I want to mention. You appear to be all hot and bothered today. Is the A/C working properly in the office?"

"Well it is a bit warmer than I'd like, I have to admit."

"Well I'd take that cardigan off if I were you," and she smiled in a caring maternal way. "And if I can make another small suggestion, I think you should quit wearing sleeveless blouses if you intend to continue not to shave...I think you know what I mean..."

My cheeks burned in a moment and I stuttered "Yes, good idea, thanks Dawn."

"Jane, please understand, I don't have a problem with it, but some of the younger ones in the office have been whispering about it in the corridors.."

I was horrified and humiliated to hear that I'd been the subject of gossip. Hitherto I'd always been scrupulous about my appearance...this was sooo embarrassing...

As I walked back to my desk I resolved that wearing antiperspirant and sleeved shirts was now the order of the day. Marion would never know...

~

That evening, after eating a chicken salad and well into my second glass of Chardonnay I rang Fay. She was on a train to London, on her way to meet her partner.

"I need to talk to you about my appointment with you tomorrow," I said in an agitated voice.

"Oh yes, what's the matter?"

"It's Marion. She's told me that Tina will be there to see that her instructions are carried out."

"OK," there was a pause at the other end and then she said. "Look Jane, this has happened before. There was a woman who got tangled up with Marion a while ago. She was a client of mine and Toni appeared whilst I was doing a routine cut and blow dry for her."

"What happened?"

"Well Tina made the woman, I think her name was Ruth, go for a major restyle. I seem to remember she went from shoulder length to a short inverted bob style. It turned out pretty well and she was actually happy with what I did, though I never saw her again."

"I see. Fay I think that's the sort of thing that's going to happen tomorrow. I'm uncomfortable with having my hair cut short...what do you think will happen if I refuse?"

"Well knowing Marion and Toni, they won't be happy. It's the control thing.

I'd imagine if you refuse they would find a way of getting you back...you might well get punished some other way. How are you with the discipline thing. Does getting your bum whacked get you off?"

"I don't really know, I've never had anyone physically hit me before. It's sort of tempting from the point of view of experiencing it, but I'm a bit of a baby so I'm just not sure.."

"Well you had better decide before you get to me, as I can't make up your mind for you. I mean it is only hair isn't it. If you have it cut short it will at least grow back..."

"Yes I suppose so. OK Fay, thanks for your help, I'll think about it. See you tomorrow," and after saying our goodbyes I rang off.

I was preoccupied for the rest of the evening. My mother rang from Germany to check I was well. She was returning to the UK for a few days the next month and hoped I'd be around.

I mentioned to her that I was thinking of having my hair cut short hoping that she would support the idea of a change. I was disappointed. She told me not to be so stupid and said ninety percent of women my age would kill to have such a wonderful head of hair.

I regretted even mentioning it, and our conversation dried up soon afterwards...

Chapter 2

Despite an indifferent night, I woke on the Saturday in a more positive mood.

I did the washing, cleaned the flat and then had a leisurely bath. I shaved off the remains of my pubes as instructed but left the now ugly scrub in my armpits. The sight of my bald pudenda in the mirror was rather unreal. It looked insignificant, and in conjunction with my small boobs made me look childish. I imagined that from Marion's point of view that was the desired outcome.

I then rigged up the enema bag, and after a couple of alarming false starts, water going everywhere...managed to get my bottom clean. The smell of my evacuations hung distastefully in the bathroom air... but the feeling of inner emptiness afterwards was pleasant and it gave my self confidence a lift.

After dressing in jeans and a black vest, I applied a little makeup. I decided mascara was unwise as I was pretty sure my eyes would water at some point that day...I studied myself in the mirror when I was finished. My eyes looked rather small and piggy without mascara, but they would have to do...

I had to decide how far I was prepared to go...After about fifteen minutes of staring at myself I knew...

I found my bomber jacket and the car keys and set off for town...

~

I was greeted at the Salon by a smiling Fay. It was good to see her again. I admired her ample bottom, whose cheeks stretched her white trousers tight, as I followed her through into the salon. She settled me into a chair, and after taking my coat and purse stood behind me and ran her fingers gently through my mane of hair. Her gentle caress sent a message to my nether regions, the memory of our night of passion rekindled briefly...

"So how are you Jane? And how about your hair? What were you thinking of doing today?"

"I just want a trim please Fay."

"OK... let's go and get you washed," she replied, but as she did I noticed she raised one eyebrow quizzicality...

Toni appeared almost immediately after we returned to the main part of the salon.

"Hello Jane." she said in her rather deep voice. "How are you?"

"Fine thanks, and you?"

"Oh yes, I am very well. So tell me what are we doing for you today? Is Fay taking care of you?

"Oh I'm just in for a trim, and yes Fay is really attentive.."

"I see...I see. I rather thought you were going for something slightly more dramatic done today. I was attending to Marion Palmer's hair yesterday and she said that you were coming here today to have a Pixie cut..."

"Er no..., no Toni, you must have got that wrong," I said, my eyes holding hers defiantly.

"So it would seem, Jane, so it would seem. Though I think it is probably Marion who will be most surprised by her misreading of the situation..." and with that Toni turned and drifted off amongst the other clients..

"Bravo Jane," Fay said quietly, with a little wink and grin. "I hope your poor bottom is ready for the consequences.."

"Yes Fay, never more ready thanks."

"Well if you need anything, I'm around on Sunday. Come over for coffee..."

I was dumbstruck by this invitation. Fay carried on combing out and sectioning off the back of my head whilst I sat there staring at her. After our last meeting I had no expectations of seeing her socially...she had made that clear. I wondered what had changed...

~

Fay worked her magic, and I left the salon feeling a million dollars, my hair shining and swinging in the breeze.. As Marion had instructed I drove straight back to the flat and made my way to "The Firs".

When I knocked on the door, it opened immediately, Marion filled the threshold, her black uniform tight to her generous bust. She looked me up and down and greeted me by saying "You're late.." and she turned and walked off.

I followed her down the corridor and into the Consulting Room. She sat down at her desk and opened the buff folder in front of her. My name was written on the outside.

I made to sit down, but as I pulled a chair out from the desk she barked "Stand still Jane!"

I stood rooted to the spot. There was no doubt that Marion was in a bad mood. My lack of compliance obviously a contributory factor.

"Unless we have more misdemeanours as yet undiscovered you are showing a tally of thirty six strokes. That is 12 over the maximum number of strokes I allow for any single session so there will either be two sessions or I will find some other way of reconciling matters. Is that clear?"

"Yes Matron."

"I have added another six to the previous total for coming here dressed in jeans, and obviously another 6 for not having your hair cut as instructed. To this last matter, I would add that the instruction remains in place and will need to be attended to before your next treatment session if you wish to avoid further consequences. Is that clear?"

"Yes Matron."

"Right. Take off those jeans and remove your panties, and hurry up."

The mere mention of the words to hurry up caused me to fumble with the belt and the buttons on my jeans. Thirty six strokes!! God I hadn't expected that I'd accrued that many...and she hadn't mentioned what she intended to use administer them either...

I stood there in just my black vest, waiting...Marion was in no hurry, she was busy making notes in my folder. The coolness of the room caused my nipples to harden. I regretted not wearing a bra.

Eventually she closed the folder and stood up, her chair scraping against the tiled floor. She bent down and picked up my discarded white thong, sniffed it and then pocketed it.

"Leave the rest of your things and follow me Jane," her voice cold and menacing.

We left the consulting room and I followed her down the corridor and into Treatment Room 1.

What I saw as I walked in, was a shock even by the standards of what Marion had exposed me to since I'd started visiting "The Firs".

Solange was standing by the Gynaecologist's chair. She was nude save for black fishnet stockings and a matching lace suspender belt. Her pert olive skinned buttocks had two dark lines of bruises across them. They looked a few days old.

She didn't look up, she was leaning over the arm of the chair doing something to the groin area of the occupant.

The occupant of the chair was a young man. He had the palest skin, and was very slight of frame with an underdeveloped musculature. What I could see of his face looked handsome, with strong cheekbones and a shock of long curly hair. His mouth was not visible because a pair of pink plain cotton bikini panties was stuffed rudely between his lips. A small plastic bag lay on his shoulder and I could see the name "Fay" written on in black ink marker.

I shuddered at the thought of poor Fay and the treatment she had received that first day I had visited Marion.

The young man looked barely twenty years old. What was unusual about him was the profuse amount of dark body hair on his chest, body and legs, the latter being firmly tied into the stirrups of the chair with black cord.

Solange stood back from the chair and greeted Marion. Doing so revealed what she had been doing. The young man's genitals were now in full view. He had a long thin uncircumcised penis that was flaccid and lying on his stomach. It was the largest cock I had ever seen and I stared at it. Below it was his hairy scrotum which looked out of proportion to the rest of him. Tied round it was a piece of elastic, that stretched his balls tight in their sac. Below them I could see his dark hairy ass crack and surprisingly from that a short white cord hung down a few inches from between his buttocks. It looked exactly like one from a tampon.

Marion scolded me. "Come away from there Jane. That's Simon. He's the son of a former colleague. He's here for assessment because his girlfriend says he ejaculates too readily and his personal hygiene leaves a lot to be desired."