AAA+ Everything Box

Cindy finished her work, I could see (she'd mostly finished it right after school), so I had to give her a task.

I took a break and stood. Cindy, I decided, was wearing too much. "Cindy. Strip down. Completely naked. Vulnerable. And, put your hair in a pony-tail."

"Yes, master."

She did, efficiently, but laid her clothes on the bed instead of folding them. I corrected that with a pretty-please of, "It's important to be tidy, not obsessive, but tidy, at least, in all you do.".

She nodded, "Yes, Master."

"Now, Follow me."

Walking behind me, I led her downstairs to the TV room, where my mom was watching TV.

"Mom?"

She turned to me, and raised an eyebrow seeing Cindy standing there, Stark Naked and super attentive but with a subservient gaze, eyes downcast.

Mom's eyes got a bemused twinkle in them. She could see I was having fun, and there had to be a reason for this.

I asked, "Can you do me a favor? Cindy hasn't cleaned very many bathrooms in her life, and she doesn't know what to do. She used to think she was too good for that. Now, she's understanding that there are jobs that everyone does. Can you help her by watching her work and correcting any mistakes, no matter how small?"

Mom raised an eyebrow, like this was a trick question. "I don't think it's appropriate for me to be ... instructing anyone?"

This was going to take a special request, I could tell, darn it!

Admitting some things had to happen that way, I pretty-please'd them and told them both that whenever I asked for a favor to consider it like a pretty-please request but think it a perfectly normal thing to ask, and that was an order.

"So, Mom, as a favor to me, can you help Cindy to understand what is involved in cleaning a bathroom, spic-n-span? She'll need to be naked for this so she understands what it is to work when she's uncomfortable."

Mom nodded, and said, deadpan, "Sure, no problem. Come on, Cindy, we'll get you started...." She led Cindy to the small WC we had off the laundry room. We didn't use it too often and kept the door shut because it was cold in there in the winter from a too-large glass-block window.

I went back upstairs.

About a half-hour later, they came up and did the upstairs bathroom, and I heard chatting and general advice about how to approach cleaning problems.

My delight in the abasement of a not-nice-person was on the front of my mind, but I kept having to tell myself not to get used to it. It's not good to feel that power, I knew if I started enjoying it, I might end up in a bad emotional place.

They finished up in there and my mom handed her off, "All done. She's done a good job, I think. She learns quickly."

"Thank my mother, Cindy."

"Yes, master. Thank you, Mrs. Bolton."

My mother's eyebrows went up at the 'master', but she said calmly, "No problem, Cindy." To me, "That's it, then?"

"Sure."

Cindy stood in my room and looked at me, waiting. I turned back to my book and said, "Now. Kin-dee. Go take a shower. Use a minimum of hot water, I'm going to need some, too. Make sure you're shaved nicely. I'm going to explore you when you're done. You understand?"

Her head bowed again and she intoned subserviently, "Yes, Master," and went to the bathroom toting her overnight bag.

I worked on my book, heard the water running, and lost track of time.

Looking up, about an hour later, she came back into the room.

She was bald.

Now, I don't mean, bald, like, her mons was shorn instead of a landing strip. I mean, her entire body was hairless. No eyebrows. No head hair. No hair anywhere. She was completely hairless!

FUCK.

Of course, I'd meant just shaving her pubes and legs, the normal female stuff. My instruction of 'shaved nicely' was too much.

There was no fixing this. People would know.

Really, only a few people to see her talking to me that day, but ... wow. I didn't know how to fix this.

I asked, "You ... shaved your head."

"Yes, master."

There wasn't anything to do but nod.

She'd had past-shoulder-length blonde hair, and I was confident it was now in the wastepaper basket, no use asking.

Just looking at her, my eyes scanned the changed person. Without her hair, my eyes were drawn to her eyes, and of course to her breasts, her flat stomach going down to a prominent, very naked mons and vulva cleft. She was 19 or 20 years old, but her face and body looked both older and younger and I couldn't figure it out. It was just freakin' weird!

How the hell was I going to solve this?

The only answer is, she has to solve this. I had busy things to do. "On your phone, find out if there are any websites that can sell you a really good wig, fast, that will hide the fact that you're bald. Something that might fool people who know you... Make 'em think you just got a haircut or something."

She accepted this assignment with a simple, "Yes, master," sitting on the bed cross-legged like it was nothing unusual. Her boobs were distracting, high and upturned, medium-sized, either a B or C-cup, hanging away from her body slightly since she was leaned over.

I wanted to lick them. She smelled really nice, too; she'd packed her own stuff in her bag.

After about 15 minutes, she looked up at me expectantly. I kept her waiting a minute or two, which felt a lot longer than it probably actually was. "yes?"

"Sir, ... Uh, Master, I have several ideas about wigs that might work."

"Any that could be shipped to you quickly?"

"Sir, I don't know."

The sir was getting tiring, but I put up with it. "Fine. Order six kinds, delivery as fast as possible, now."

"Yes, master."

She went back to it, getting her charge card out of her purse. I vaguely watched her.

She finished. "Sir. Delivery in 2 days, so... Wednesday. Afternoon, probably."

"Good. Now, text your mom. Have her call you out sick. You'll be out the next 2 days, or until you have a good, plausible wig. Then, start looking for a high-end wig shop in Winnipeg, maybe something that's for teens with cancer or something."

While she was busy, I took my shower.

Getting back, I noticed she was sitting upright on the bed, her hands folded in her lap.

I shut my room door behind me and hung up my towel on the hook next to my closet. Glancing over, I asked, "So, what are you thinking about?"

"Master, I'm ... ashamed of myself. Obviously, I did the wrong thing. You said to 'shave nicely' and I thought that meant, smartly, like, completely, the British way they say, 'nicely' to mean, like, really well done. Master, I'm going to be ... oh, things are going to be bad! All the girls are going to make fun of me. The boys, too. They will all see that my beautiful hair is gone. Master."

"Are you defined by your hair?"

"Yes, I am, Master, I'm ... beautiful, and my hair is part of me, and now it's gone, and I'm ... ugly, master!"

"What does an ugly person do with their lives, if they know they're ugly?"

"I... don't know. Probably, like, math. Accounting, maybe. Or, work on a farm, or something. Where no one can see them."

"Kneel in front of me."

She quickly jumped from the bed and knelt in front of me, as ordered, "Yes, master." She was eye-height to my cock, dangling there. She looked at it, her eyes jumping around a little as she studied it.

She'd gotten the deep-throat, swallow, clean-up, big-o, keigel-practice, and sexually-attracted-to-me as instructions as part of the 'English class' instructions. I pretty-please'd another, then.

It was a bigger one.

From now on, she would regard the most important beauty as inner-beauty and judge people on their ability to be strong in the face of pain, compassionate, loving, hard-working, generally kind-hearted but not stupidly trusting, and wise, but only secondarily regarding physical beauty as important.

She nodded, but said, "Master? My friends will know that I've changed and they may look down on me from now on, I think."

"That's an order."

After she blinked and bit a lip again, regarding my penis dangling 2 inches from her face, she said, "May I suck you, master?"

"Yes, you may."

Gingerly running her hand up my thigh, she grasped my penis and lifted it, looking at all sides of it, and kissing, then opening her mouth, glancing to the side as she did, and sucked it in. She'd done this before, I figured, based on her familiarity.

I was hard in no time, so I lay down on the bed and had her climb on top so we could 69. She made some comment about having heard of this but not done it.

I was amused to find she'd missed a bit of hair on her butt, not much (just a whisp), but given how bare the rest of her was, it was noticeable. I thought it was kind of cute. The shape was so delightful -- rounded ass but muscular and firm-feeling.

Overhead, her legs came down to straddle my ears. This, she wasn't familiar with, it seemed, there was a lot of adjusting, but I pulled her sex down to my face to lick and nibble around before going into her rapidly-engorging flap-lipped center.

The taste and sweet smell delighted my senses shortly before I felt her pick up my cock again and restart. I liked that part, the sucking, low and slow, as I licked her, low and slow, too.

She squirmed in my face and gasp-inhaled as I "finally" found her clit (having avoided it to build tension), and her moans started to be much more in earnest. Her trigger turned out to be a single-finger poking anterior-upwards rub, in rhythm with my licking, making a fat-tongue twice with a hard-tweak then repeating.

Shuddering and then screaming as her body tensed and clamped down on my head (and trying to get away), I held her tight to me in a solid arm-lock as I went to town and she gasped and mewled in ecstasy. On and on it went, and I didn't let up until her more-pleading voice appealed enough to my sense of when she'd really had enough.

Just relaxing, she breathed hard and settled, visibly un-tensioning her muscles and trying to catch her breath in slower and slower sighs.

All this was music to my ears. I liked being able to do that. It's like it was a skill that I deserved, despite having been handed so much privilege and capability by just being in the right place at the right time.

Once she got more comfortable, I moved again, licked up her and startled her. I decided to be a little rude, so I said, "Time for you to sit this beautiful cunt right down and fuck me."

"Oh..." her almost whimper said happy emotions were behind it, but I could tell she was tired.

I moved, and she let me shift to lie beside her as she tucked along my side. Her hands were still on my now half-mast cock since I'd had to work on her and lost focus on my own arousal level. Her hand touching it quickly returned me to full and 45-degrees.

Her eyes were anticipatory, nervous, half-smiling, wanting, all at once. She pulled away and sat back on her haunches. "How do you want me?"

"No. To start, you sit down on me. You control things. You get 30 strokes, as fast or slow, deep or shallow as you want. After that, we switch control, I get the rest."

She nodded, agreeing to the 'terms', and threw a leg over my hips. As she moved, her breasts dangled to me, so I reached up and played with them, trying to reach them but failing since she was trying to get situated. For all her being decisive show-off attitude, this side of her was both haphazard and tender to be a part of. Her half smiles, just in those few seconds of movement, gave me a view of her vulnerable side, and I liked it.

Grasping my cock in one hand and propping herself up on my shoulder with the other, she looked down and swiped me up and down her slit briefly, then pushed down farther towards her butt to get me seated in the right place. Small movements up and down, she looked at me and smiled with an open mouth, hopefully, inhaled, and pushed back and down to push me in.

I felt her break and give a small, pained scream -- the pressure had turned to no pressure, then no movement as she paused. I watched, and her eyes teared up a little.

She'd been a virgin.

I'd had a chance with several thus far, and the pattern seemed to be very similar -- break, stop, breathe deeply for a minute, then slowly restart. I was glad she was on top, I would have felt weird being the one driving the pace.

On top seems like a far better way to lose virginity for girls since they're more in control, but, then, as a guy, I had rights only to observation and supposition and not any kind of weighty opinion on the matter.

She moved again, slowly, up and down, letting the motion carry her, and breathing hard the whole time.

I didn't really count how many times she went up and down, though I waited for at least 3 or 4 minutes of steady motion before I even thought about a position change. In the meantime, her face went through so many raised-eyebrows happy-frustration expressions that I wondered what she was feeling on the inside to evince such enjoyment on the outside.

Her internal clench on me was prodigious. I told her, "Let's not change positions. You feel amazingly good..."

She nodded, and obviously agreed.

Our speed built up, and I pulled her down to me, front-to-front, holding her back hard and her hips down to me as we rocked together just moving our pelvises enough to get friction. I was in her deeply, and soon I felt (under tremendous grabbing, beautiful gliding pressure inside on my cock) my time was near -- and ... it was ---- THERE! Ohhh, yes, URnnnnnggg yes I came, pumping in her, my cock spurting cum in PULSE yes... PULSE oh, fuck yes, PULSE, overwhelming orgasm-rocking-world convulsions.

She'd not come the second time, so between clenched teeth as I came, I gave her the 'big-O' command, so just as I finished, she came again, her internal pulses quivering on my cock as she thrashed around on top of me. Her arm strength, hugging me, was much stronger than I would have thought.

We settled back, and got to the point where we were breathing normally again. I looked in her eyes, and she in mine, just staring.

Eventually, she shifted a tiny bit and I slipped out, to her frowny-face and small 'Awww...'.

She pulled off, and I handed her a tissue. She dabbed at herself, and I saw a small bit of red showing before she wadded it and put it in the trash.

I was sticky, and had a small red splotch on me, too, but I just lay there. Finally, I said, "Kin-dee?"

Her face perked, obedient. "Yes, master?"

"Clean up."

She realized she'd missed something she'd been told. "Oh, now? Okay." Her attitude was businesslike, then, a task to be done, efficiently. Shifting and bending down, she took my cock in fingers and kissed and licked my abdomen, then sucked in my cock, slurping up everything, and licking down it until she'd gotten me all clean.

I could tell she was happy with a job well done when she finished, contentedly and self-assuredly smiling as she moved back up to tuck in her shoulder under my arm.

A small shiver went through me, and I realized I was a little chilled. She felt it, too, quickly pulled up the sheets and blankets, and turned out the light, laying down on her back next to me.

"Master?"

"Just Kevin, now."

"Oh. Kevin. Uh... you need to know something."

I was suddenly a little nervous. "Okay?"

She sighed, and her voice was sad, but, again, factual, "I can't ever have kids." Just the smallest pause to let me digest this, she said, "My doctor told me 3 years ago. I have uterine cysts. They're painful, sometimes, even. They mean I ovulate, but I can't ever get pregnant, or have kids, or ..."

"A family?"

"I suppose."

"You can adopt."

"No guy is going to want me. I'm damaged goods."

I thought about this. It would explain a lot. Rolling over on my side, I ran my hand over her stomach, and then paused over her abdomen. "Where? Here?"

"About."

Reaching out with my thoughts, I tried to picture it, but I didn't know what I was looking for, and I was super-tired anyway. "I'm going to give you a command, Cindy. This command isn't for your brain. It's for your body. It might not work, your body might not listen to me, and there's no wishing that would make it happen, either it listens, or not. But, here I go: 'Cindy's body: heal all your cysts. Become a fertile woman."

I was almost religious doing it.

To her, I continued, "I don't know. It's silly of me. I'm sorry if I'm hurting your feelings talking about it."

She shook her head, a little sad, "No. tz's-fine."

Re-adopting the command voice I'd just used, I said, "Also, Cindy's body: make her smarter - able to remember everything! Make her breasts always look youthful and between C and D-cup sized. Make her wise, a healer... A doctor! Make her a great doctor who figures out how to cure many diseases." Laughing, I finished with, "Also, make her head hair that she shaved today grow back faster... AND, make it so she only has body hair where she wants it from now on. That's an order!"

Cindy laughed, "I can't do those things. Maybe, be a doctor, I could do that. But, I ... can't change my boobs. They are what they are. Mom said so."

"Probably. But that was before I gave an order to your body. Your mind? No control over it. But, I can tell your body to do things." I hugged her to me, snuggling in.

"You're so different from what I expected you to be."

"And that was?"

"An idiot geek with no style."

"I am, though - I'm, like, so the idiot, like all the time. I'm definitely a geek. I'm not really sure what style is."

She laughed, "Yeah, but... now? That seems okay."

"Let's sleep. We have ... Oh, right, I have school in the morning. You get to drive to Winnipeg to find a wig store."

"I'll figure it out."

"You're smart. Of course, you will." I leaned up and kissed her, slowly and tenderly, then settled back and fell quickly asleep.

== Chapter: Tuesday Morning ==

In the morning, my alarm went off and we looked at each other, smiling. I liked waking up next to girls and smiling at them. It was a rush to find a fresh-faced, quickly-smiling-back pretty girl next to me - and this time, a BALD one!

I liked it even better that my bedmates were invariably naked.

After I turned off the alarm, I looked back and said, "I usually offer a nice early-morning schtupping, but last night was your first."

"What's a schtupping?"

I had to smile, "It's Yiddish... kind of, German, for fucking. Or, making love. Depending on how fast you do it."

She smiled back, "And what if you're in-and-out, super-fast, then what is it called?"

I thought a second. "Uh... Rapid City." Note, this is a reference to Rapid City, South Dakota, a place we frequently made fun of in school as full of the Really Stupidly Worst Aspects of being in America. "If you go there thinking, 'hey, it might be nice', you're fucked, but, at least you can get in and out super fast."

She rolled her eyes and looked down the blanket.

I had morning wood, but I also had to pee.

"Looks like you're ready, but I'm not. I'm a little achy."

"Gotcha." I got out of bed, helped her out, and pulled her to me, full body hug and then kiss, my cock trapped to the side against her abdomen.

She kissed me back, melting a little.

We walked into the hallway; mom was just getting up. Her door opened, she looked at Cindy and screamed, "AAAAA!!!"

Cindy laughed, "Yeah, I know, right?" She kept going to the bathroom. I paused since my mom wanted to say something.

"What did she DOOOOO to herself?!?"

"Long story. Miscommunication. She's still really beautiful."

"She could wear a burlap sack and be pretty. But... Her hair!"

"I know. She's going to a wig store in Winnipeg today."

"Her poor mother..."

My mom had a good point. There was no avoiding this.

"Her mom will be here at 7:15. I'll ... fix things, there. I think. Question is, her dad and sister. I'll have to fix those, come up with a good story. How do people usually lose their hair?"