Knocks on the Door

Normally I loved my job.

I loved the work and I loved the people I worked with.

If I had a complaint, it would be that everyone was almost too nice.

Everyone treated me as if I was the stereotypical "nice girl next door," or their "little sister." I am sure that they thought that I taught Sunday school and always wore dresses even on my days off. Admittedly, I had always been the "good girl" in school and even now at work. My friends always said that I never got in trouble and never seem to do anything bad.

I suppose everything about me must seem nice. I got married right after university, I had a nice little house, we both had good jobs, and after being married for five years, I could understand why people would think that.

Today, however, my workday could not end fast enough. Time dragged and dragged. I found that I could hardly concentrate on anything, much less work. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. It seemed to take a week to get to lunch and a month later, it was still only 3:24.

In my mind, I was a million miles away. I was thinking about tonight.

Mercifully, 4:30 finally arrived and I turned off my computer and gathered my things. I was excited, almost trembling in anticipation as I started walking to the parking garage. I hoped that I wasn't being unconsciously rude to anyone because I was so distracted. I was afraid that I might have ignored my coworkers' "good nights" as I anticipated what was waiting for me in my car.

As I entered the parking garage, I caught a reflection of myself in the glass windows. At just a little over five feet, I was small. Well proportioned and in good shape though, my body was attractive but not perfect. I ran and did yoga as well as watched my diet. I don't think I am vain, but I do feel sexy when my 34 x 22 x 33 frame catches the attention of men and other women.

Occasionally I catch them, their eyes lingering for a few extra seconds on my ass or boobs, each time my pulse races and I feel myself getting damp and excited. If only they knew what I was thinking.

Today, I wore a nice summer dress, the hem just below my knees and I wore my beige boots, a nice necklace, a little makeup, and jewelry. My hair was in a loose bun and I walked with a little sway to my hips.

I smiled and said under my breath, "Just like the girl next door."

I considered myself a solid 7 or 8 but not a 10. As if the emphasize the point, under my dress, I wore my plain white bra and a pair of comfortable but plain panties. Looking at me, nobody would think anything but "nice."

My secret was hidden very well.

A secret that manifested itself randomly and not nearly enough for me. Like today, an hour after arriving at work there was a text message on my cell. It was a simple message. The message consisted of only one word but it was enough to derail my entire day... like it always did when it happened.

"Tonight."

A single word, but it was enough.

The last time had been almost two months ago, that day too, like every time it happened before, my ability to concentrate and focus on anything else was destroyed. Although the message was always the same, each time what happened that night was a surprise, was always different, and was always very bad.

That's what I was thinking about when I came to my small car in the parking garage. A simple sedan, not fancy or flashy, a practical little car, just very nice. I climbed into the driver's seat.

There it was. An envelope on the seat.

My hands were shaking a little as I closed the door.

Self-consciously I looked in both directions. The rest of the office crush was still trickling out of the elevators, cars were starting, more goodbyes were being said, and taillights were heading towards the exit ramps.

I had started the engine but had made no effort to leave the parking spot. Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the coolness inside the car. Self-consciously I brushed my hair back without thinking about doing it.

My breathing was rapid and I could feel my heartbeat racing inside my chest, I knew I was flushed and I imagined how red my cheeks and chest must be.

The envelope was sitting on the seat. The front and back of the envelope were blank.

I ripped it open with shaking hands.

A single page was enclosed with something heavier as well. I had to turn the interior light on inside the car to read it.

"Go to the Key Motel, room 7."

I dumped the object out onto my lap. It was a motel room key. The unsigned note was printed on a word processor with no clue as to who sent it or how it got into my car; it wasn't there when I parked this morning.

I knew about the Key Motel. It was on the other side of town. I had at one time it had been a cute little roadside country motel. Now it was isolated amid the retail sprawl and had seen better days. Its reputation now was decidedly less cute. I put the car in gear and drove out of the parking garage, my mind swirling wondering what lay in store for me.

I don't remember the drive, it took fifteen minutes or so and I passed through an endless number of traffic lights. All the while, my mind drifted back to other nights when I had received the same message. I wondered what awaited behind the door in room 7. Last time it had been room 12 in the Starlight Motel and route 80, what a night that had been. Could tonight be better, the heat between my thighs increased at the thought? Absentmindedly, I never noticed my free hand caressing my breasts through the dress.

People joked The Key was rented by the hour for quickie rendezvous' or by hookers. As I pulled into its parking lot, I could believe it. The faded paint, the sign that advertised X-rated movies in each room. I parked the car, locked it, unconsciously counted the rooms, and then headed towards number 7.

I opened the door with the key and the darkness beckoned.

Inhaling, I could detect a faint odor of perfume, and the unmistakable scent of sex, both sensations drew me into the room.

Searching and finding a light switch I was rewarded with what I expected, mirrors on the ceiling, and around the bed that dominated the room.

Everything in the room screamed 1970's décor with wood paneling and old, not antique furniture. The only thing new was a huge TV mounted to the wall that had a webcam attached to it. A sign hung beside it... "Make your own porn... video rentals $50 per night."

A package sat on the bed wrapped in the plain white paper.

Laying next to the box was a receipt for $50 with a password hand-written on the bottom. Someone had already positioned a camera in the corner on a tripod; I didn't have to check to know where it was pointing.

"Interesting," I said to the empty room in a voice that betrayed my excitement. I sat down on the bed with my knees together and reached for the package, my heart racing again and my palms were sweaty.

The package was about twice the size of a shoebox. I ripped open the packaging and let it fall to the floor. With more than a little nervousness, I took the top off and peered into the interior.

The first thing I found was a pair of open-toed heels with intricate thin black leather straps. These shoes were incredible; I had never seen a real pair of stilettos before. The heels must have been 5 inches. I have never had a set of shoes so sexy and slutty before.

I slipped off my plain but comfortable work shoes. I ran my fingers along the long hard spike that was the heel with my eyes closed. My hands trembled a little, I slipped one of the stilettos on - it was my size. I stood, teetering on one heel feeling almost intoxicated with the wantonness of the shoes. I loved what wanting to wear them implied about me as a woman.

Gingerly I slipped the second one on and walked the length of the room. I rarely wore shoes with heels, and never shoes with these extreme heels. I felt so sexy as I got more comfortable walking. I began to exaggerate the sway of my hips and the movement of my body. I wanted to walk around outside, to show off, to show other people how sexy I felt, but I knew that there would be time enough very soon.

Eager to see what else was in the box, I slipped the stilettos off, excited to see what else was waiting for me.

Next was a small black dress, a very small black dress, an extremely small black dress. It was strapless and as tiny as I was. Looking at it, it looked like it was even too small for me.

The fabric was soft and silky as I held it to my body it made the attractive but very tame dress I was wearing look boxy and so unsexy. Holding the dress to the light, I noticed there were glittery sequins woven into the material and they softly sparkled. The fabric was so thin I imagined it would be like wearing nothing at all.

Even more eager to see what else was in the box I set the dress down on the bed and had to consciously force myself to stop shaking.

I reached into the package again, a sixth sense telling me that I would not find what was on my mind. Sure enough, using my hands to search, there was no bra or panties in the box.

I was not disappointed; in fact, I think I would have been disappointed had I found them. The thought of wearing that silky dress with my pussy and ass virtually exposed made a small moan pass over my lips as I subconsciously bit my lower lip.

Looking inside again, my hands found something that felt like leather.

A black leather collar emerged from the box. It was the thickest collar I had ever seen; it looked just like a big dog collar, which later I found out was exactly what it was. About an inch wide with raised silver studs, it had a silver buckle in the back and a silver loop in the front for a leash to attach.

"OMG," I thought, "All of this was so slutty, I loved it, this was so not me."

I squeezed my legs together relishing the possibilities. I noticed a small silver tag attached to the collar. The inside of my thighs was already slippery and I could feel that my panties were drenched.

I noticed a coil of silver linked chain about four or five feet long with a clip for the collar that made me softly moan aloud as I ran it through my fingers.

I looked at the inscription on the tag and read the words aloud, "Fuck me hard."

This time there was no mistaking the very loud and long moan that filled the room. I needed to be naked but more importantly, I needed to be fucked and fucked hard. The inscription was appropriate.

Looking back into the package, I retrieved some silver bracelets, and rolling around in the bottom of the box was some blood-red lipstick, eyeliner, blush, and a few other bits and pieces of makeup. Then I noticed another small box taped inside the larger box so it wouldn't move around.

I pulled the tape off and opened the smaller box. An electric hair clipper, shaving cream, and a razor were tucked inside, along with a note.

I unfolded the note.

"Remove your work clothes and put on the robe hanging in the bathroom. Some food will be arriving shortly, eat. Then have a shower and shave yourself completely. Then get dressed in only the clothes provided. My eyes lingered on the underlined word. Then I read the read of the note.

"You will be picked up 90 minutes after the food arrives by someone who will knock on the door 6 times. Go with them."

The note was printed the same way as the one I read in my car, unsigned and written on a word processor.

Forcing myself, I took a deep breath and walked into the washroom. I reached around the door and noticed hanging on the door was a small terry cloth robe, it looked smaller than the dress. Standing in front of the mirror, I took off my necklace, my watch, and undid my ponytail. Shaking my head, my blonde hair had a nice tousled look, like it did after my husband made love to me. I reached slipped the dress off and looked at my plain bra and panties.

"These have to go," I smiled to myself in the mirror.

Undoing the front clasp, I involuntarily sighed as I released my small breasts. There were small but extremely sensitive. I closed my eyes as my hands automatically cupped them and then rolled my nipples with my thumbs and forefingers. I stood like that for several minutes, savoring the electricity I was generating and watching my nipples harden in my reflection.

I knew if I did it long enough I might even orgasm, especially tonight.

I could feel the wetness and heat accumulating between my legs but I knew that I had to get ready. I smiled to myself and noticed the flush on my skin. Forcing myself, I pulled my panties down over the flair of my ass and then down my legs. Bringing them up to my face I inhaled the scent of my sex and noticed how soaked they were, I smiled and said to my reflection, "This is nothing, wait until later."

I was just inhaling the scent of my arousal when I heard a vehicle pull up in front of my motel room. I grabbed the robe as I heard a door slam and I got up and peeked out the window. It was a guy delivering a pizza.

I struggled to get the robe to cover my naughty bits. He started to knock as I hurriedly wrapped as much of myself as possible with the robe and fumbled with the tie. As it was, it barely covered my pussy and maybe was an inch lower than the bottom of my ass; the tie only closed the robe enough just to cover my nipples leaving most of my boobs in full view. I looked through the peephole.

I couldn't make out his features at first, but his body looked to be in good shape and he filled out his jeans nicely. He knocked on the door again and I opened it smiling. His eyes just about fell out when he saw me and it wasn't long before I noticed a bulge in his pants.

"Here's your pizza order," he replied, I could feel his eyes on me. There was nothing subtle about his gaze. His stare was almost a physical presence.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked.

"It's all been paid for, including a big tip, I hope you get as big a tip," he said smiling and he whistled softly as he left.

I could feel little jolts of electricity between my thighs.

I couldn't wait to finish getting ready.

I thought about his leering, for a second I had seriously thought about letting the robe come open and give him a real show. I didn't though, that wasn't part of my instructions. I closed the door before I let the robe open; I shrugged my shoulders and it dropped to the floor.

I was starving; I opened the pizza box and ate a slice.

There was a diet pop as well.

Sitting quietly I ate two pieces and finished off the pop before closing the lid and heading to the bathroom.

Now I needed to get ready. I took the shaving cream and razor and sat on the edge of the tub.

Running the hot water, I shaved my legs, enjoying the sensation of the razor along my skin. Shaving always excited me; the feeling of being smooth was one of my oldest fetishes. My legs, pussy, and even my eyebrows were always bare. None of my old boyfriends had ever complained before nor did my husband now.

Finishing my legs, I ran my hand along with the smoothness and shivered. Even though I always kept my pussy bare, I shaved it again as well to make it as smooth as possible. My mind drifted a little and I wondered why there had been an electric clipper in the box.

The words from the letter ran through my mind, "... Shave yourself completely bare," I wondered.

I toweled myself off and walked back to the bed and reread the letter.

"No way," I thought.

"How could I explain that at work?"

"How would I explain that to my family?"

My pulse had sped up to the point I could feel it beating.

"I couldn't... could I?" my knees almost got wobbly just thinking about it.

"I looked at the clippers; there were no attachments for adjusting the length of the cut, only the metal.

Almost robotically, I watched my hand reach out for the clippers; I turned and walked back to the washroom. Finding an outlet, I plugged the cord in.

I stood and looked at myself in the mirror; my blonde hair was shoulder-length, still slightly tousled.

I looked at the clippers in my hand, remembering my deepest, darkest fantasies, to be completely hairless; I had only ever told my husband this desire. My girlfriend in college had shaved her head and I had loved touching it when we kissed.

Many quiet nights had been spent together loving each other and although she had only done it a few times, each time had always made me desire her even more. My solo fantasies often revolved around having my own head shaved, the feeling of being that naked always resulted in an intense orgasm.

My thumb pushed the button to on and I groaned as the electric sound filled the room, I swear my shaved little pussy was almost dripping.

"Fuck it," I murmured.

I hesitated for another second and then before I could change my mind I reached up and ran the clippers through the center of my hair. Blonde hair was replaced by a deep furrow of stubble and I noticed my nipples were so hard they ached. Again and again, the clippers cut through my hair, blonde tresses fell to the floor in a growing pile.

"OMG, what am I doing," I said over and over again, but I did not or could not stop. Caught up in the heat that I felt, I could feel myself shivering in excitement, there was no way to stop now and in less than five minutes my long blonde hair was just a pile on the floor, my scalp covered by stubble less than an eighth of an inch long.

"This won't do," I said to myself.

I reached for the shaving cream and before I knew it, my head was covered in a thin coating of white. Then I was running the razor over my scalp. The stubble disappeared replaced by the increasingly shiny reflection of my shaved and now very smooth head.

It took several minutes, and with each stroke, my excitement was tempered with panic about what I was doing, but despite that, it wasn't enough to stop.

When the stubble was gone, I stopped and looked in the mirror, transformed, I almost didn't recognize myself.

I couldn't help myself, my fingers found my soaking pussy and within seconds my body was wracked with a powerful orgasm, there was no turning back.

The fear I felt about having to explain my shaved head at work was more than balanced by the excitement that now crackled through my body at being completely hairless and nude. I had been drawing my eyebrows for a long time and now that my scalp was exposed, my entire essence wanted nothing more than to be completely sexual. Drunk on the electricity flowing through my body, how I would explain everything was the furthest thing from my mind.

I had lost all track of time I now realized that I barely had enough time to finish. Leaving the hair where it had fallen I turned on the shower and stepped into the steaming water. I soaped and washed, paying particular attention to my pussy and ass. I hoped whatever the night was going to bring that both those areas would get a lot of attention. Letting the water stream over me, I tried not to anticipate too much, I wanted whatever might happen to be a complete surprise.

I almost reached for the shampoo out of habit and laughed to myself, running my fingers over my now smooth scalp and feeling so completely naked, so much more naked than I had ever felt before.

Toweling myself off, I walked nude to the mirror by the bed and applied the makeup that was in the box. I applied my eye makeup and the rest carefully.

All the while, my eyes were fixed on my baldhead I was captivated.

Finishing with the blood-red lipstick, now made up I didn't recognize myself in the mirror.

Next was the collar that made my knees weak when I buckled it into place. The black dress slipped onto my body as tight as a second skin, I had to wiggle and twist to get it into place, the thin material doing nothing to hide the erectness of my nipples, and even the bumpiness of my areola was visible in the shimming thin fabric. The thin tight material conformed to my body like my own skin.