I used to have a recurrent fantasy of being a sub in a B & D scene in which all my body hair is removed against my will in front of a big audience. I'm stripped and my wrists were bond and pulled up over my head to pull me up on the balls of my feet. I'm standing on a stage inside an inflatable kid's pool. A big crowd is watching.
As I'm hanging naked, three beautiful women and three attractive men who all look like they just stepped out of a body building competition.gather around me. They only wear thongs. Their perfect bodies are hairless and oiled. Their perfectly smooth skin flashes in the spot lights. I'm muscular and trim too, but I'm a pretty hairy guy with thick blonde pubic hair that hides much of my equipment. The six beautiful people approach me with bowls of grey, smelly paste. In seconds they cover every inch of my skin with a thick coat of the stuff.
Then they leave me hanging looking like a grey stone statue as they dance around me and entertain the audience. I feel the paste dry, harden, and start to crack. It turns white. Then the six beautiful bodies turn their attention back to me. With tools that look like plastic butter knives, some abrasive pads, pitchers of water, cloth rags rags and towels, they remove all the white stuff from my skin in less than a minute. They wash and dry my skin.
The six beautiful people step back so the audience can see me at the same time I am able to first look down at my suddenly hairless body. It's shocking. I am absolutely hairless. The only way I can touch myself is to rub my legs together. They feel amazingly, delightfully smooth. My cock and balls and all the skin around them are completely bare, and I feel cool drafts hitting them. Nothing is hidden. I'm in shock. I feel more naked than naked, and totally helpless and humiliated. My shock shows in my expression, and the audience loves it. I'm slowly getting hard.
Then six gods and goddesses surround me again to spray me with oil, and then I feel twelve hands all at once rubbing oil over every inch of my hairless body. Then I feel twelve legs, and twelve arms, and six bare chests all pressing against me, rubbing me, caressing me. The pleasure is hypnotic. I don't want it to ever end, but they suddenly all pull away. I look down at myself and see my oily, smooth body gleaming as brightly as theirs in the spot lights. I hang there shuddering from the experience. I don't know how I didn't cum. I'm rock hard, pointing almost straight up. The excitement of the audience grows, and then I hear a loud male voice. "Who wants this slave for tonight's show? Do I hear 50? Yes 50. 60?...". I hear both men and women yelling higher and higher bids...
I've got lots of endings for this one. Sadly now, this fantasy doesn't have the power it once did for me. My wife and I made a decision to permanently remove all our body hair long ago. This fantasy is impossible for me now, except as one of the three smooth guys in a thong who gets to remove Ms Lila's ginger bush for the audience. Like a tattoo, once you take that permanent hair removal step, you can't go back. Sometimes I wish I could, but being hairless has so many positives that the negatives like this are very minor regrets.