Bald Bargaining

In the throes of self-induced passion I told the boyfriend last night that I wanted him to wake me up when he got home from work (4:00 A.M.) and shave my head. I said that I would let my hair grow as long as he likes if he lets me keep it shaved for the rest of the summer (yeah, I know I said I don't like being bald when it's hot, but I really wanted it gone.)

When he got home I didn't wake up entirely, but I remember hearing him tell the cat that I had too much hair. She must have gotten curious when he was laying out his tools. I woke up later in the morning when he came in the room for something or other, and when he saw that I was awake he laid down with me and tugged on the little bit of hair he could grab hold of, whispering that it was time for my hair to come off.

My heart started racing as I sat up and saw the clippers and the HeadBlade off to one side, with hot water and shaving cream on the other side of the bed. The last time I requested that he shave me, all I got was the un-guarded clippers, but I could see that he was going to go all the way this time. He had laid a sheet on the floor so that there would be less mess, and in short order I was covered with my 1/4 inch hair. An hour and three shots with the blade later I was completely bald, head to toe (well, I still have eyebrows and eyelashes).

He's not sure about the idea of me keeping my head shaved for the next three months so I've already shaved my head smooth again even though I was only shorn twelve hours ago. I'm going to be as bald as I can be until my time is up, and maybe if I'm bald enough to keep him happy, he'll keep his slut around for a bit.