A friend in need

Dawn moved quickly through her morning routine, her body still humming with the memory of Polly’s command. The water from the shower stung her skin in sharp, electric bursts, each droplet a reminder of how exposed she had been, how watched. She wasn’t sure which thrilled her more the voyeuristic thrill of being observed during such an intimate act, or the way Polly’s voice had left no room for refusal.

Drying herself with a towel, she caught her reflection in the steamy mirror flushed cheeks, parted lips, a restless energy thrumming beneath her skin. On her bed lay the little black dress, the one she reserved for nights out, the one that clung to her curves and left little to the imagination.

"Put that on. And remember, no underwear."

Polly’s voice carried through the apartment, playful but firm. Dawn shivered as she stepped into the dress, the cool fabric gliding over her damp skin. Normally, she’d pair it with thick tights for some semblance of modesty, but today, the only thing between her and the world was the whisper-thin material of the dress. She slid her feet into black sandals and turned to the mirror, hesitating before slowly lifting the hem.

Bare. Exposed. Her pussy glistened faintly under the dim light, already betraying her arousal.

What does Polly have planned for me?

The door creaked open, and Polly leaned against the frame, dressed in a tight gym bra and leggings that showcased every inch of her toned body. Dawn dropped the hem of her dress, but not fast enough, Polly’s smirk told her she’d seen everything.

"Come on, you little slut," Polly purred, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "I’ve got an appointment booked for you."

Dawn’s stomach twisted with anticipation as they left the apartment.

Polly’s car was sleek, expensive, just like everything else in her life. Dawn couldn’t help but compare their fortunes as she slid into the passenger seat. Polly was tall, effortlessly beautiful, her golden hair always perfectly tousled, her confidence never tipping into arrogance. And then there was Dawn, smaller, darker, always a step behind.

But right now, none of that mattered.

The dress rode up as she adjusted in her seat, the leather cool against her bare thighs. Every shift, every turn, made her hyper aware of how exposed she was.

"Aren’t you going to tell me where we’re going?" Dawn asked, her fingers gripping the seat.

Polly kept her eyes on the road, a smirk playing on her lips. "Nope. Where’s the fun in that?"

The city blurred past, neon signs and crowded sidewalks giving way to narrower streets, unfamiliar storefronts with foreign script. The air smelled of spices and something earthy, intoxicating. Dawn’s pulse quickened as Polly parked and led her down a dim alley, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the damp walls.

A heavy metal door loomed ahead, a sign above it in characters Dawn couldn’t decipher. Polly knocked, three sharp raps and the door swung open.

Cold air rushed over them, raising goosebumps on Dawn’s skin. She glanced at Polly, whose nipples had hardened visibly under her sports bra.

What the hell is this place?

The room was sparse, clinical. A single chair dominated the centre, its leg supports spread wide.

Dawn’s breath hitched. "Polly?"

Before she could finish, an elderly Chinese man emerged from a back room. He was slight, bald except for two bushy white eyebrows, his hands gnarled with age. He took Polly’s hands and bowed slightly.

"You want your usual?" His accent was thick, his tone warm.

Polly shook her head. "Not today, Mr. Chung. My friend here is getting the full works."

The old man’s face lit up. "Good, good! Up in the chair, please."

Dawn hesitated, her heart pounding. "Polly, what’s going on?"

Polly’s smile turned sharp. "You heard him, Slut. Chair. Legs in the supports."

The word slut sent a jolt through Dawn. In private, it was a game, a tease. But here, in front of a stranger, it felt different. Dangerous.

Swallowing hard, Dawn obeyed, settling into the chair. The supports **** her legs apart, the hem of her dress riding up to her hips, leaving her completely exposed.

Mr. Chung barely blinked, but Dawn caught the flicker of amusement at the corners of his mouth. She turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut, but she could feel Polly watching, could almost hear her smirk.

Then warmth. Something sticky against her pubic mound.

Dawn’s eyes flew open. "Polly, what the hell?"

Mr. Chung was spreading melted wax over her most intimate areas.

Polly burst out laughing. "Oh my god, your face! Did you think this was some kind of sex thing?" She wiped tears from her eyes. "Dawn, it’s a waxing salon. You missed patches last time you shaved. Mr. Chung’s fixing it."

Dawn’s face burned. Part of me hoped it was something else.

Then pain.

Mr. Chung yanked the first strip, and Dawn nearly shot out of the chair. "WOW!"

Polly howled with laughter. "I wish I was recording this!"

"Don’t you dare!" Dawn growled, but another rip stole her breath.

Strip after strip, each more agonizing than the last. Around her anus, along her lips Dawn was sure he’d taken skin with the hair.

Then tweezers.

"No moving," Mr. Chung warned as he plucked stray hairs. His fingers brushed against her clit, deliberate or not, sending sparks through her. The contrast between pain and pleasure was dizzying.

A moan escaped her.

Polly’s gaze darkened, her lips curving into something knowing.

Finally, it was over. Cold lotion soothed her raw skin, but the sensation was too much Dawn writhed, her hips jerking involuntarily.

"Enough," Polly said suddenly, her hand on Mr. Chung’s shoulder.

The old man chuckled. "She is very wet."

Dawn’s legs trembled as she stood, her knees nearly buckling. Polly steadied her, whispering, "I think your little pussy’s had enough action for today."

In the car, Dawn spread her legs shamelessly, examining the results. Smooth, like silk

Her fingers traced the swollen lips, the sensitive flesh still throbbing from the wax—and from something else.

Polly smirked. "Enough of that. You’ll ruin the car seat."

But Dawn couldn’t stop thinking about it the pain, the pleasure, the way Polly had watched.

She couldn’t wait to test out her new look.