Seen at a Mall: An Allegory of Love

I pulled her body toward me, with a hand on her ass, jutting her pussy forward to meet the blade and decrease the chance of inadvertent injury on her part; by giving her pelvis no more room to move forward, she could only retreat from the blade's caress, and only if she gathered her strength to do so.

The first smooth stroke cleared approximately a quarter of her mons in one swipe. The usual involuntary jerk away from the blade accompanied the touch, but she quickly recovered control. Very strong-willed, this one. I ran my tongue over the area uncovered, only partially to check for smoothness--I knew just how silken her mound would be--but really, to savor that first bared swatch of her.

Virgin territory, uncharted waters. The touch of that slippery surface to my tongue shot through my brain like lightning, and I very nearly came from that first contact. I wanted to linger, but it was going to be a long night, and I had much more flesh to cherish.

My friend and I continued to bare her to my gaze and tongue, removing each bit of stubble with careful precision, using two hands when necessary, but never needing to repeat a stroke. Between the lips was always the tricky part, when I could not steady her, and must stretch the skin in odd ways to fully denude the interior aspects of the labium, but my earlier preparations had done their work well.

After the initial flinch from the touch of the blade, my guest did not startle or struggle anew, even when I continued the path between her legs to denude the inner surfaces of her asscheeks and her puckered asshole.

Shortly, it was done, and after setting my friend aside--for the moment--I carefully toweled away any traces of lather, patting, not rubbing the tenderized flesh. She was pristine, baby bare.

I knew that never again would she be as smooth as she was at this moment; eventually the skin would coarsen, as it did on legs and pits, with repeated shavings. Occasionally, sadly, there were shaving bumps, although not as often with the fairer-haired. Each pussy developed its own personality, once shorn of covering, reacting in different ways at different times, but careful maintenance usually minimized any problems. Ahhh, but this smoothness--this was a one-time moment. I had to restrain myself from ravenously attacking the vulnerable flesh.

I carefully rubbed an aloe preparation into the newly-shaved surface, taking great care to reach each nook and cranny, neglecting no corner of what had previously been her tangled triangle. I soothed the roughened edge of her pussy's sensibilities, talking quietly to it; many people would do so to their plants or their pets, if they'd experienced trauma, and no one would look askance for a moment, but speak to a pussy--which gives so much more pleasure than either of those other possessions--and people think you've gone off, somehow. Go figure.

When I was satisfied I had done as much as I could to ensure her--MY!--pussy would recover without mishap, I went back to the camera for a final, brief, closeup of her now-completely-bald pussy, and on the way back to my seat between her thighs, spoke to her again.

"Now comes the moment many women, for whatever personal reasons they might have, never experience in their entire lives. That moment I'm about to give you, cherished by many women as one of their fondest memories, is their first orgasm with a shaved pussy. I've been told that the greater sensitivity generated by the loss of pubic fur--freshly lost--borders on the exquisite long before actual culmination. 'In other words, it ain't always the destination, sometimes it's the trip.'

"But I'm afraid your enjoyment of the act may be marred by the circumstances surrounding this particular event, although I'll certainly be trying to distract you as thoroughly as I'm able from any morbid dwelling on such things. Here it is, your first shaven orgasm. I hope this moment is special to you. I know it is to me!" And so saying, I applied myself once again, with a single-minded devotion to her now-hairless hole.

Her honey had never really stopped flowing, not once in the entire time elapsed since I'd begun her last tasting, with the knowledge it WOULD be her last--furred--tasting. But as my tongue traveled the barren skinscape, and delved freely into areas inaccessible before her depilation, the waterfall began afresh. I could see from the involuntary tremors and ripples in her flesh that, despite her apparent show of defeat and degradation, she was being brought to a fevered peak again, and in very short order.

Before I knew it, her hips were bucking with renewed vigor, wildly tossing, as if to remove the source of irritation from their surface, this time accompanied by poorly-muffled attempts at shameless name calling, but my lingual grasp held firm, and my mouth and her naked essence were fused beyond such simple attempts at separation.

I drew on her clit, sucking deeply at her core, and continued to do so until her spasms became less forceful, her breathing too ragged to allow for further attempts at abuse through her gag, her body limply spent. She had come ten times now, by my count--who really knew how many? If I asked her, would she say? I wouldn't, in her place. But then, as a male, I wouldn't need to--the evidence of my spending is incontrovertible; either I did or I didn't, there's no guessing involved. I removed my mouth from our joining.

"Now, you have one last, admittedly slim, chance at avoiding further humiliations at my hands, tonight. I'm going to attempt to make you cum, one last time. My proposition is simple. Keep from cumming, avoid disgracing yourself by revealing your true slut nature, and in a few days or weeks when I release you, your hair leaves with you. Fail, and the remainder of your stay will find you bald above, as well as below." Her head snapped up as the words sank in.

"Know that I'm going to be doing everything in my power to ensure the hair stays behind, a trophy won at the wars. That luscious mane is entirely too beautiful to remain attached to such a slut, who would come so often and so hard for a man she has never even seen. But knowing the consequences of such release may give you the extra strength you need to deny yourself. I'll begin in a few moments, but first I must speak with my friend, here, and when I'm done, I'll free your mouth from your gag, so you, too, may have your say."

Her head had been shaking "No!" since the first intimation that I might take her locks, slowly at first--as if she couldn't believe I was even suggesting such an atrocity--then more and more frenziedly, until the hair in question was whipping wildly about her nude body, now shielding, now revealing. Accompanying this savage display was a high, keening moan emanating from behind her gag, and now, in the final moments of her realization that I did, indeed, intend to remove her glorious tresses, hot tears began to course from beneath the blindfold. Finally, she could sustain the wildness no longer, and her entire body shook with the depth of her pitiful sobbing.

I watched this entire transition through the camera's viewfinder, almost in awe at the fury of it, then turned to my other tasks again. Although my friend argued that he was as sharp as ever, I reminded him that I never shaved anyone with a dull instrument, and I wasn't going to start now.

He got sulky over the insinuation, but I soothed him with the strop, assuring him as we stroked that, though he would never be dull, there were times when only the finest edge would suffice, and this was one of those times. Further, only he was capable of that edge. Did I not choose him over those other, inferior blades? Was he not the brightest, most beautiful, and EASILY the sharpest blade? He cheered up, and again we sang to the rhythmic slap-slide of blade and strop, and when we were done, I knew this would be our crowning moment together. I turned to face the slave-slut.

"Have you made your peace with yourself? Are you ready to fight your inner self, your true nature? Are you prepared to fight me with your entire being, and deny me my satisfaction? Are you, in short, ready to prevent yourself from cumming?

"I'm going to undo your gag, and re-position the blindfold so it does not bind your hair in any way, but be warned, you will have a limited amount of time to say what you will. I would caution you against wasting all of it with cursing and name-calling. I assure you I've heard it all before, and it would be so...common. You are in all other ways extraordinary--even your capacity for sluttishness surpasses the norm--so please don't lower yourself by reproducing the same tired maunderings of those who are obviously not your equals. But, your time is your own. Use it as you will."

And so saying, I undid the clasp securing the gag in place and, with a flourish, whipped it free from her head. She spent a few moments working her jaws, to release the tension, not really believing it was gone. Then--oh, so predictably-

"You BASTARD! How COULD you? Who do you think you are? What gives you the RIGHT!!?!! I'll KILL you for what you've already done--don't even THINK about touching the REST of my hair! This isn't some kind of joke, here! I've been growing this hair for you since my 25th birthday! Let me LOOSE!!!"

I'd thought she would be more worn down by now, but the animal fury she released over the next three-and-a-1/2 minutes was certainly NOT common! The vituperation and invective she heaped on me, my ancestry, my progeny and all my kin were unequaled by any I've ever experienced!

Even now, reviewing the tapes of the episode gives me chills and leaves me prone to nightmares. Even though I am always most careful with my ropes and tackle, I began to fear for their stability. Redheads! Never underestimate them! I almost began to have doubts about the act I was about to undertake. But I knew I was right to do what I did. I couldn't have been mistaken about the signals I'd received.

With renewed resolve--after the prescribed time, when I was certain she wasn't going to say anything constructive--I again slipped the bit back in her mouth, this time securing it under her hair, next to the blindfold. She attempted a final furious volley of thrashing to prevent my securing it--actually biting at it, along with my fingers--and all of this accompanied by a bestial scream of rage and frustration that shook me to my core.

Finally, she was secure again, and she hung there, panting, sweating but still obviously with a tremendous reserve of fight left in her. That would only serve to make the ultimate victory--and her ultimate defeat--that much more delicious, I told myself.

Although still a little shaken, I tried to sound nonchalant as I continued. "Brava! Very exciting! Very...creative! But, in the end, futile. And a little annoying. I'd hoped we could discuss these matters at length, maybe come to some understanding. But now, I'll admit, you've pissed me off a little.

"So, not only WILL you cum for me--once again, you savage slut--but when I'm through licking that bald little pussy, I'm going to fuck you and make you cum once again, WHILE I TAKE YOUR HAIR!! Do you understand? No shred of hair OR dignity will possibly be left you if you cum on my cock while I strip you of your crowning glory.

"You'll be revealed--TOTALLY revealed, I might add!!--as the perverted, debased, wicked deviant you are--a whore, a slave, a toy, a SLUT, whose pussy rules her life, a cum-hungry cock-hound. You've had your say, and I hope you enjoyed it, but the final victory will be mine, and in mere moments.

In fact, I'll truly show you for the bitch-in-heat you are--I'll raise the stakes. I'm betting you won't last ten minutes. Just ten little minutes of denial of your dripping pussy, five minutes without a spasm showing your weakness, and you go free, tonight, hair intact. But if you lose, slave, ohhhh, if you lose..." I paused to savor the vision I was experiencing. "Your weeks of hell begin tonight with me cumming on your shaven head. I can hardly wait to see that jism dripping down between your eyes. Are you ready, slave?"

I could swear she was looking right through the blindfold at me, and that a grin tightened the corners of her mouth around her gag. Again, that chill passed over me, like a goose on my grave. I shook it off, and plopped down in front of her naked puss, ready for the final battle.

I glanced at my watch. "I'm afraid you're just going to have to trust me on this, slut, but I've got 12:37. At 12:40 exactly, the attack on your drooling, shaven cunt begins, and if at 12:50 you still haven't cum in my mouth--yet again--you'll be on your way by 1:00.

"But you know, I can't help but notice that, despite all you've endured, all you've SAID, this hot little pussy is still busy creaming away. You're drenched almost to your knees down here, you know?? You slaves are all alike... you try to deny what you are, but here's the truth of it."

I scooped up a fingerful of cunt cream from her thigh and popped it in my mouth. "Mmmmm, mmmmm, good! Yep! That's the real thing--slut juice. Cumming your buns off, while I abuse and torture you. Here I am, possibly some crazed lunatic, I stalk you, sneak up on you in a parking lot, strip you naked next to your own car. I kidnap you, tie you up, drag you into the woods where I could possibly be planning to slit you 'from guggle to zatch', as it were, and they'd never even find the body. And here you are, spewing pussy juice with every touch of my tongue to your clit."

I knew I was warming her up, sparking her fantasies, causing her hips to undulate juuuust the slightest, and maybe this was a trifle unfair, under the circumstances, but c'est la guerre! 'All's fair...' as they say.

"Almost time. Almost time for the final 'assault' on this smooth, delicious, hot little pussy, leaking cream and practically wriggling with lust. Even knowing the cost, I can see you've already lost this battle. I can almost see her spasming a little, like she's winking at me. You've been practicing your Kegel's, I gather. What a hot, wicked little slut you are!! Your body betrays you completely, now; your nipples already crinkling to hardness in preparation of another cum. This is going to be easier than I'd dreamed! Here we go, into the final countdown...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...ONE!"

I applied myself with a vengeance. To her credit, she tried everything I'd ever seen attempted by any of the others, and one new maneuver toward the last that almost broke my nose on her pelvic bone, after lulling me into complacency, but in the end, nine minutes, three seconds after I'd begun, she was mine. Her pussy was mine, her hair was mine, her cum was mine.

Her orgasm was incredible, awesome to behold. I've never seen her cum so hard. But I hoped to see it again, in just a few moments, when she did it again on my cock, with her hair raining down around us. I sucked and licked, lapped and lingered, and when she finally wound down and I slowly released my oral hold on her clit with a final quick flick of the tongue, I knew she was mine.

She would never be the same for anyone else again, not now. I was going to keep this one forever. I couldn't bear to even THINK of her belonging to anyone else, she was so deliciously debased, so beautiful and decadent. And now she was all mine.

I paused a moment to savor the victory, to allow her to languish in the afterglow, to drink in the beauty of her, as she hung there in the ropes. Then I began to adjust her position with the pulleys, until after a few moments, she was now bent over, vulnerably off-balance, almost on tiptoe, her globular ass jutting out to the rear, her breasts dangling from her chest like ripe pears, her hair hanging down on each side of her back but hiding nothing. Her beautiful, silken hair, so plush and exquisite. MY hair, all mine, to harvest as I pleased. The time had come. I adjusted the rubber sheet over the ground under her feet, to catch the hair as it fell, and I began circling behind my new possession while undoing my pants.

"Well, slave. I see you didn't make it. A pity, too. But only to be expected, considering what a slut you are. But now, it's time to pay the piper, time to put away childish things and start your new life as my slave. Forever and ever, amen. Are you listening to me, slave? I've decided I'm going to keep you. I can't continue to go through all this trouble, searching for just the right victims, hiding, ducking, sneaking, stalking. It's getting too dangerous out there. I'm going to retire, and you, my delightful darling, YOU will be my retirement pay. Do you understand? I'm keeping you! And I'm keeping you BALD!"

With the final word, I simultaneously plunged my rampant cock into her shaven hole from behind--she was so wet and open I could have lobbed a softball into her cunt from 10 paces--and yanking back on her hair, I made the first pass through her hair with...a brush. I could feel her naked pussy spasming around my dick, from the shock of the entrance, and her overall excitement. I continued to fuck her, not too vigorously, since I knew I wouldn't last long, and brushed her hair at the same time. I brushed it till it shone, and fucked her until she was again bucking and on the verge of another cum, then backed out.

She moaned in frustration, and possibly relief, for her hair was still with her. But not for long. I bound her tresses together in one thick, long, glorious ponytail, trying to tuck in any spare hairs flying about, until I was sure I had captured all of it in the one magnificent bunch. I stepped behind her, again, holding the treasure in my hands as I went. I pulled it backward and plunged into her again, setting off a new spasm of activity, but I moved my hips with hers to prevent her--and my--premature release. I released her gag, and her blindfold. I clicked on the clippers. She began to babble incoherently, as I tugged her head back toward me, increasing the tempo of my thrusts into her vulnerable cunt.

I placed the clippers on her forehead, and she began to moan, and buck, and then she was cumming, and I began the first careful stripe back onto her scalp. I worked all along the fringes of the front, as she spasmed on my dick, trying to milk it dry, and the ponytail began to come away from her head. She cried out in simultaneous anguish and pleasure, and began to cum again, with the humiliation and the pleasure, and I finished peeling her hair away back to her ears and over the top of the crown. Half done, and her head was drooping forward, and she was still cumming, again and again, it seemed like forever, but was probably only 30 seconds. Another few final passes, and the ponytail came free in my hand, and her clippered head hung forward completely, abject, defeated.

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And then she came a final time, as I waved the hair in front of her face, and her stubbled head came back again, and I plunged deep into her for a final time myself, and she began crying out, "Lover, what have we done? Oh, lover, you bastard, oh master, my master, I love you!!" and I screamed out, "Happy 40th Birthday, slave! I love you!!!" and began pumping her full of my cum, and minutes later, when we'd regained our senses, I began to release her from the bonds, and laid her down on the soft grass and began to cuddle her as she deserved.

I repeated, a little more coherently, "Happy Birthday, lover, delicious slave. Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, MASTER! How could you? All those years you've hounded me to grow my hair, and now, this!" She rubbed her nubbly scalp.

"Don't worry, I've already arranged to have it made into a wig, so no one will be able to tell anything's different, when you go back to work in a couple of weeks. But I gathered this has always been a fantasy of yours, hasn't it? To be kidnapped? Raped and "forced" into pleasure? Yeah, I know the fur and hair removal was always MY fantasy, but did you mind? Didn't you want your 40th to be something special? Something memorable?"