Brian started playing with me, licking my nipples and touching me lightly between the legs, until we were both so sexually excited that we did it again, although he was kinda running out if you know what I mean. I came over and over. I've never been so fervently turned on. Later, as he was getting a shower, I sat looking in the mirror in the living room of the suite and I did myself. Orgasm came easily. It was becoming evident that my new appearance turned me on – especially because Brian had done this to me. The only problem was that my almost Brooke Shields-like eyebrows were too much for my now denuded head.
After I showered and put on a short skirt and tank top, Brian wanted to go out and for me to go with the buzz showing. I said I wouldn't show it until we left the hotel, but I didn't want to do it at all with my eyebrows as thick as they were because they didn't fit with the almost-bald head.
He studied me with such a serious look on his face that I finally burst out laughing. He seemed bewildered at first, then produced an embarrassed smile.
“Honestly Lena, I never thought about that. Now that you mention it, you’re right. But I like your eyebrows, they’re beautiful, and I never considered doing anything to them.”
“Do you mean that you wish you wouldn’t have buzzed my hair?” That would be a horrible mess – we’d both be devastated – Brian because he made a ‘”mistake” and me because I was no longer as desirable to him.
I was thinking I should have just kept my mouth shut when he said with a sheepish grin, “You know, changing your eyebrows might be kind of erotic too.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at the same time my hearted started to pound once more. Here we go again, I thought. But somehow, I was more aroused than frightened. I would become whatever Brian wanted. And the more he wanted, the more it seemed to turn me on. On the one hand, I thought, I’m so messed up – but on the other hand, I’d found a special bond to my Lover, and it warmed me utterly. I wanted to be, and I would be, every woman to him.
“I guess I want you to be every woman to me.” Honest, Narrator! He said that just as I was thinking it! We are so right for each other!
I went into the bathroom to fetch a few things. Returning to the living room of the suite, with a satisfied look of trust and desire, I went over to kiss him hungrily, holding the implements in both hands at my side. We finally stepped back to look longingly at each other. I handed him a bottle of astringent, a tube of analgesic cream and tweezers.
Brian had me lay down on the sofa and applied the astringent and cream, with some instructions from me. He started to tweeze my heavy brows as I gave him some ideas about what to do. This went on for about an hour. I was getting pretty sore so we stopped and ordered some lunch from room service. He wanted me to open the door without my wig. I did, with my heart pounding again. A young girl, probably about 20, brought the lunch in. After she laid it out and he was signing the bill she turned to me and said - believe it or not - "I like your hair." And I’m sure she meant it!
After lunch, he tweezed for another hour or more. By now, my brows were getting pretty thin - maybe about one-fifth as thick as they had been - and thinner by far, than they had ever been before. We decided to quit then, and drive to a mall that was close to the hotel. I covered the redness below my brows with a little light eye shadow
I wore the curly red wig out of the hotel. Brian really wanted me to get rid of it, so I finally pulled it off and tossed it onto the back seat. We went to the mall and walked around. I’m convinced that everyone was staring at me. I kept telling myself that I didn't know any of these people anyway and didn’t live in this city, so what did it matter? But to be honest, one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life was to make that walk from the car into the mall. We stayed about 2 hours. The longer we were there, the more I began to relax into my new self. I could even feel myself standing up straighter; I must have been slouching when we first walked into the shopping center.
The only things I bought were a couple different colors of eyebrow pencils. I thought I might need them. We left the mall, went out to the car, almost decided to try to do it again right there, but decided to control ourselves until we got back to the hotel. I did put the wig back on to go into the hotel, not quite ready to reveal myself to the front desk clerks who’d already seen me with hair. I know. It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s how I felt at the time. Silly, eh? Well, I’ve definitely moved on since then.
As it happened, we just crashed, naked, in the room for a while, trying to relax and reflect on the experience. We mostly petted and kissed because Brian, stud that he is, was spent. Reaching between my legs, with his talented fingers, he got me off once or twice though.
We went out to dinner and I wore the blond wig. I looked even less like myself with the wig and my now-very-thin eyebrows. When we got back, Brian pulled the wig and my clothes off and said it was time to finish me. This time he filled the bathtub and helped me step into it. He got my head all wet and put the lady's shaving gel I had provided in his “kit” all over it and then started shaving the tiny stubble, starting with the left side, then the right, then the back, and finally the top. He gelled it again and did it once more to make sure it was completely smooth. Then he made me run my hands all over it while I showered off with him in the tub with me - and in me again.
There I was, completely bald. And I was so turned on that I wanted him to do something else to me. I wanted to submit to him. It didn’t matter what it was. Just to keep it simple, I had him tweeze my brows again until they were just about one row of hairs thick. When he finished I was not only bald but my brows were so thin that they also made me look like a completely different person.
Sex that night was long and slow. I really don’t know where Brian got the stamina. I guess he was so turned on that nothing could stop him. What surprised me was how unwaveringly turned on I was. It was certainly because of the complete attention he was giving me. If you’ve never experienced the absolute concentration on you that your lover provides when he or she sees you as the only person in the world at that moment, I urge you to do whatever you must to make that happen. It’s an experience you’ll never forget, and will endeavor to recapture whenever you can. Thanks to my taking a chance on an unusual experience that weekend, I learned some things important about myself, Brian, and the two of us together, that’ll keep our relationship young, exciting and healthy for a long, long time.
For hours that night, Brian was focused only on me. It was as though we were the only two people in existence. There was no doubt that we each were the only person at all important to the other.
Occasionally, my hand would drift up to my head and I would feel the baby-soft skin there, totally devoid of hair. My Brian had done that to me. I had completely submitted to his desires, and I felt totally turned on by that thought. I guess I discovered a submissive side that I had no idea existed in me.
As I was pondering this, Brian slid into me from behind. My feeling of being his had never been stronger. His arm held me tightly, as I lay there on my side pressed against him and forcing him deeper into me. His hand moved down to my nether regions and I could feel the gentle stroked of his fingers around my clit. I shivered with pleasure and reached my hand up to run my fingers over my naked scalp again. I trembled with an erotic fervor so strong that, had it not been for the intense pleasure I felt at his touch, I would surely have fainted.
Now Brian’s hand cupped my genitals, squeezing with a slight but firm pressure. I moaned openly. He began a faster rhythm in and out, sending pounding pleasure surging into my vagina. Still cupping me, he moved a finger to lightly flick my clit as he came in me. I climaxed a moment later in a series of five orgasmic vibrations that shook me to my core. I remember calling out for Brian to keep me shaved forever because it turned me on so much! I could feel his manhood, strength and heat and knew I would do whatever he wanted, whenever he asked. I was totally surrendered to him, a thought that itself turned me on even more.
Chapter 3
> Hi! It’s The Narrator again. I had to take a few moments to calm down there. I’m not done yet, there’s still more to tell.
A few days later, Lena wrote to me again:
I still can't believe it! I'm shaved! My hair is completely gone! It's like I'm giggly and wet and shaking and so sore from making love! Brian was so turned on, I thought he'd burst (he did, over and over). For me, I'm still turned on by the whole experience, but I look so strange! It’s totally incredible - there’s no hair on my head at all! There was a little bristle of fuzz this morning, but he shaved that off and now I'm still smooth as a baby's bottom!
We went out around town yesterday. I wore my curly red wig until afternoon. I took it off in a park and we walked around and let everybody there see me. Some stared and some smiled. Some may have started to talk about me but I was still uncertain and a little embarrassed so I turned away. Last night we went to a movie and I went bald with dangling earrings and a killer dress ($700, Brian just bought it for me!). By then it was getting far more exciting than embarrassing - but I still can't believe it.
This morning I was just a little bristly, but he shaved me anyway. Afterward, Brian asked me to promise to keep it shaved. I reminded him that I had told him – in one of my fits of passion – that I wanted him to make me keep it shaved forever. I told him I wasn’t kidding. The idea of it still turns me on. It must be because Brian did it to me. I probably would have felt the same way if he’d had me tattooed or body pierced or something else. I think I just get completely turned on at the idea of Brian doing something unusual and erotic to me.
I asked him if he would keep me shaved forever. He laughed and said for at least three months, then we could decide together whether or not to let it grow out – a little or a lot. I gladly agreed. He asked me if I'd really keep it shaved longer than that and I said I would if, at the end of three months, he still wanted me to. So I know I will be this way for a while. It's still so different. But every time we talk about it I get wet and so hot I absolutely have to have Brian in me. That’s the way it was this morning. I made him an hour late for work. Luckily, he’s the boss.
As you can tell, Lena was pretty open and frank with me. Somehow, though we’d never met, didn’t even know where each other lived, I’d become her trusted friend. Lena was such a complete, fresh and open person that I was honored to be close to her. About a week passed and Lena wrote to me again:
It’s hard to believe but it's been more than a week since he took my hair. He shaved me again yesterday morning. To get my smoothness back, I needed it too. I may be getting a little used to being bald, but I don't like the feeling of stubble on my head. I suppose that if I don't get over that, I'll never be able to stand growing it out again. I may try to go to shaving every two days instead of three. I hope that won’t make me sore.
The shaving has done something to me that I haven't been quite able to understand. As you know, I work at home, so I’m here by myself during the day. I usually get up and put on shorts (if it's warm enough) and a simple top. This week, I've tended to sit around in my underpants, maybe with a tank top or topless with no bra, even when I'm working. I actually brought down one of those cheap make-up mirrors – like the ones you get in those freebies they give you when you buy perfume - and set it next to my workstation so I could look at myself. Several times this week I've caught myself staring at it with my hand down in my panties. More than once I couldn't stop and climaxed hard.
Now I'm no prude and once in a great while I like to get myself off when I'm alone, but it’s never been anything like this. It's almost like I'm obsessed with myself - both how I look and how I don't look like me. And it seems like I'm becoming overly concerned, maybe even obsessed, with having a smooth scalp.
I’ve also been tweezing my brows at least once a day to make sure all the strays are gone, or are gone as soon as they reappear. I only have a single line of brow hairs left - and I've thought about removing those too, but I've resisted up to now. I think Brian likes them too, because he often runs the tip of his finger over them when he’s well within me as we make love. He stops his motion for a moment and just looks at them while he touches them. He has an unmistakable look of excitement in his eyes. Then his hand travels to my bare scalp and he begins to move within me again.
I am glad I let Brian do it, but it’s made me so - hot I guess - that I feel like I'm only barely on the edge of control. I have this urge to do something else to myself.
Lena wrote to me once more, a couple months later, the only time she started the note “Dear Narrator.” Here’s most of the last message:
I spent the weekend getting some things ready for a big party we're having this Saturday. I’m still shaved - very regularly by Brian - and my eyebrows are now completely gone. Surprisingly, I am starting to get used to how I look without eyebrows, which is sort of "formless." In a way, I feel like I’m able to hide or become invisible within myself. I still pencil on thin brows when we go out, and I'm getting pretty good at it, so I can now do it quickly. At first it took me about thirty minutes to get them even.
I tweeze every day, but there are fewer and fewer brows coming back as time goes on. Most of them seem to be giving up! I don’t know what they’d look like if I ever decided to let them grow again. Without realizing it at first, I may have committed myself to always drawing them on at this point.
The memory of how my own hair felt tickling down onto my back or shoulders is starting to fade. At first, if I concentrated, I could almost feel it, but I can't seem to get that same feeling any more. Ever try to picture the face of someone you've known for years but couldn't? It's sort of like that. I like the feel of my smooth scalp - and I still don't like the bristles. They make me feel dirty. I don't know if I can ever get the will power to grow it out through the “whiskers" stage. If I can't, I may never again have hair. That doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would before this was done to me, and I learned so much about my own interest in at least this form of erotica.
I'm sitting here typing and rubbing my hands over my smooth head where my hair used to be and I still can't believe it! I’m not sure who I’m becoming, but it isn’t the same Lena that was there before.
Chapter 4
Well, you may be thinking that was quite a tale. And that Lena is quite a lady - crazy or sexy or confused or certain or awesome – maybe all of those. It would, in fact, be a fine tale if it ended there, but you’re about to hear the rest of the story.
It was about eight months later, early spring. I was at a three-day, Android system programming conference in Boulder, Colorado with about 300 other people. The conference ended late in the afternoon of a Thursday, so I decided to stay over and take a noon flight home the next day. What I hadn’t counted on was that the handful of people that I wanted to spend some casual time with all decided to catch flights in the afternoon, leaving me to fend for myself that night.
I walked along the pedestrian mall near my hotel and saw an inviting pub - just crowded enough to be friendly without forcing you to drink standing-up, elbow-to-elbow with everybody around you. I picked out a table in the corner and ordered my usual martini, forgoing the beers that most everyone else in the place was kicking back. After two or three I remember leaning back and closing my eyes to get the conference goo out of my mind, when I heard this melodious, slightly-deeper-than-average female voice ask me, “You were at the conference, weren’t you?”
I froze for a moment, my eyes still shut. The last time this had happened, I’d been in a bar in Atlantic City and the “Are you here for the convention?” question had come from a hooker.
Slowly, I opened one eye, ready to give the lady a quick brush off. What I saw brought the other open in an instant and, in spite of attempts to be cool, I must have shot straight up because she actually jumped back in reaction to my own, totally, un-cool start.
I recognized her from the conference, although I hadn’t seen her close-up. I hadn’t realized then how stunningly beautiful
she was. She had moderately-short, curly, chestnut hair, and a lovely oval face with full red lips. She was wearing a short, somewhat low-cut, sleeveless, silver and black evening dress that sparkled when she moved. Her long, slender fingers with red nails to match her lips held an amaretto sour which she sipped, waiting for me to get it back together. The drink left a thin line of foam on her upper lip. She licked it off slowly with her tongue - a gesture which didn’t help to settle me at all.
She was one of the loveliest women I had ever seen. She was poised, intelligent, and obviously dressed expensively from head to toe - earrings, necklace, a real lady Rolex, what I’m sure was a diamond tennis bracelet and a matching anklet. The only thing that struck me as strange about her was the fact that her eyebrows were so thin and that they were drawn on with pencil, only barely concealing the fact that she had no actual hairs there at all.
About Lena Page 2
