boa hancock

“You’ll thank me,” she said as she stepped out of the shower, returning with garden variety paper scissors and a disposable razor. She snipped my pubes close with the scissors, not even taking a minute. Then she got a big handful of soapy suds and coated my cock and balls. In just a couple of minutes rinsed me with a handheld sprayer, revealing a totally bald, and, I must say, a more impressive looking penis.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

Sarah flopped down on the couch and started scrolling on her phone. She knew she should be doing her homework, or some after workout stretches but she was in a bad mood tonight and wasn’t about to do anything productive. All the girls in her volleyball team had spent practice gossiping about their boyfriends or the boys that they were into while Sarah just had to smile and listen. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t interested in those types of things, but she could do without the snide remarks they made about her being the only one without a boyfriend or even having a crush yet. She’d watched porn and masturbated, but with the way the other girls talked about guys and sex, she couldn’t understand the hype. Whatever itch it scratched for them just didn’t exist the same way for her.