Bald at Last, Bald at Last. Thank God Almighty, Bald at Last

Bald at Last

Thank God Almighty, Bald at Last By Ted Morgan [email protected]

Marylyn stared at the back at the glossy shaven head of the young bus driver. The bus had already taken her from downtown Portland to the little cinder cone named Mount Tabor. She had missed her stop while she traced the little depression just above his neck and daydreamed about what that hairless head could to her body. She had done this for weeks.

She could get off at the next stop and catch a bus going in the opposite direction. Still, why not prolong the reverie. She might finally get to talk to this guy at the end of the line and then ride back with him.

“Guys have it easy. They can shave their faces or grow beards. They can grow hair long or shave it all off. Think what my bald head could do to your body, Mr. Bus Driver. You just sit there focused on the road while your dream girl lurks just behind – wet, free, and alone.”

Marylyn’s thick auburn hair ran down her back to her perfect buttocks, which were almost always clothed in fairly loose jeans or slacks. As usual she hid her great breasts beneath blouses – always dark, usually with brown, orange, or black earth tones.

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She teased men who got too close by tossing her mane over her head and brushing it robustly before tossing it back and brushing it again to a high brightness. She knew she was intelligent, gifted and on the edge. She supported herself by working at temporary agencies. She got good money doing this. She spent most of her time compulsively perfecting her art.

She was not a painter. She was an artist. Her attention to fine detail took hours of focused work.

As the bus rolled, early summer sun danced from time to time over her slightly freckled face. Hints of her pretty sister’s red Celtic hair highlighted Marylyn’s hair.

She disliked her pretty face. She had an American small nose and small features. Her eyebrows were not bushy but their dark Auburn color set the tone for her face. Her features were too small for long hair. Besides, her hair hung so long that the weight of it caused the hair on the top or her head to lose heft. From the front when she wore a ponytail, she did not look like a girl with long hair.

Of course, Marylyn was no longer a girl. She has passed the thirty year mark and was racing toward the forty year marker. Near the end of the line, the bald bus driver announced the end of the line to the one remaining passenger. Marylyn smiled her best smile and said, “Yes, I know. I forgot my stop and just kept on riding.”

“Well, I’ll drive you back on the return. I’m supposed to collect another fare, but you have already paid enough. I’ve got a twenty minute layover though.”

“That’s okay. I’m in no hurry. My cat will just have to wait,” Marylyn stated in a confident voice. Then hesitantly she asked, “How long have you shaved your head? The back of your head has the same tone as your face. It must have started a long time ago.”

The bald bus driver paused and then smiled. “No, I only started doing this a few months ago.”

“Were you going bald anyway?”

“Well, who knows. I had a full head of healthy protein when I started shaving.”


“Yea, it wasn’t as long as your hair, but it was long and brown.”

“Why then did you shave?”

“Well, we took part in the first Portland Buzz Night to raise money a good cause.”

“What cause?”

“Support for our neighborhood tavern. Heck, Tom the owner has a thing for bald chicks. He guessed if he could get a few guys to shave, a few gals would insist on not being left out.”

“Did it work?” Marylyn gasped. This was going great.

“Work! It worked to a Mister Tee. Chicks lined up to take center stage to be clipped. Hell, one gal insisted on being tied to a chair – I mean really tied to a chair. Tom even gagged her. Then she fought like she didn’t want the haircut. Tom took three minutes to calm her down to baldness.”

Marylyn feared her excitement spilled over. Without thinking she ran her left hand through her long auburn hair.

The clean-shaven bus driver just chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. A lot of people think about doing this. They get embarrassed because they think only weird people shave their heads. A prominent judge here shaves to a gloss every day. A lot of young men and a few young women do it. They are not weird. It’s just a style for them.

“Human beings have always played with each other’s hair. Come see for yourself, one night.”

The red blush revealed what Marylyn felt. Her answer sounded out of phase with what she felt. “No, I like my hair!”

“You don’t have to shave. Sometimes a long-haired gal gets to clipper cut the woman of the night completely bald. Turns guys on like nothing else.”

“May I touch your head?” The shaved bus driver lowered his head toward her.

“No keep your head up,” Marylyn blurted out as she slowly and hesitantly touched this and that of that gratifyingly bald head. She could see that he enjoyed this as much as he did. “By the way, I’m Marylyn Davis.”

“I’m Harold Evans or just plain Harry!” he smiled.

“So you are a hairy bald man!”

“I guess so Or a bald hairy man.” Auburn tresses from her back brushed across his face as she unconsciously tossed her head and hair. Harry felt that great feeling of anticipation.

“You want me to take you to the tavern?” he almost whispered.

A silent nod answered yes.

Marylyn thought that she recognized the tavern. Once her sophisticated friend Mitch Brenner operated Flagon’s Wine Bar from the same site. He served wonderful wines by the glass and offered hearty French country fare. Mitch had moved the wine bar to Lake Oswego. He left the rustic paneling, tables, and décor.

Marylyn felt excitement her being with her handsome bald escort. The contrast of her beauty and his baldness caught the attention of everyone. Harry had picked her up in the classic Triumph roadster.

Harry’s shiny top reflected light from the room. He looked around for Tom. He was going to show off this pretty woman.

Tom was a big, rough looking guy with a bandana, a beard, a belly, and about a week old growth of something that must have once been a full head of hair on his head. Harry introduced Marylyn to Tom and without stopping said, “Marylyn wants to shave somebody’s head. Good any candidates tonight?”

Tom nodded yes. He said, “You know you could get all that hair made into a wig and not have to bother with it all the time.

Marylyn thought, “Not subtle!”

Perhaps reading her mind, Harry stated, “Subtlety didn’t get you this date.”

Was that Harry or her imagination. Already, she could not remember.

“You know who makes natural hair wigs?” Marylyn overheard herself say.

“Yes, I give one hair from time to time – it is my donation to make wigs for little victims of alopecia. Want her number?”

“Maybe, but not yet.”

The tavern had a small grill and even a salad bar. It had tables but no dance floor. The music featured prominent bass. Several times a week blues, folk, and jazz artists performed there. All kinds of people attended that night Marylyn first visited. Playing and listening to music did not have the big bill that night – Thursday night.

Marylyn looked around for bald girls. She didn’t see any, but she saw two of three guys other than Harry and Tom with shiny heads. Then a waitress walked to the table to take orders from Marylyn and Harry. What a sight she was.

The waitress must have been in her early forties. She was a full-figured gal but pretty with Scandinavian eyes. Her head had just the remnant of downy red hair.

Marylyn just blurted out again. “Why did you shave?”

“Lost a bet to the boss. My hair was once longer than yours, but that was a long time ago. When Tom buzzed me, I had hair down to my shoulders.”

“You like the way you look?”

“I like the way I feel.”

“Makes you feel good?”

“Makes me feel good and it feels good when my boyfriend touches my head when we get frisky. Tom says that you might try.”

Marylyn blushed. On her pale Celtic skin a blush showed. “I like his head,” she said as she pointed to Harry’s smooth dome. She didn’t say what she wanted that head to do to her hairy body. She didn’t shave her underarms or her legs – at least not usually. That is one reason she wore pants, not dresses.

Marylyn waited for the haircuts to begin, but only gals with an inch or two grow out submitted. The had done it enough to have gotten past the initial shock that even the most determined bald aspirant gets with that initial snap of scissors, that first swipe of clippers for that temporary chili bowl, or that plunge straight down the middle of the forehead to the crown.

But all the women looked a lot better after getting that stubby short time growth out of the way.

Late in the long evening, Tom pulled Harry and Marylyn aside. “Want to do something risky?”

“What?” Marylyn smiled. She thought he meant some bid to get to clip and buzz her pretty long hair. But it wasn’t.

“A prominent academic at Portland State University caught his younger-than-he wife fooling around. I mean she has had him fooled for years. She sleeps with his friends and his co-workers. Even his priest got in on the action. His kid is not his kid. He has every ground to divorce her and just walk away. However, she had a great mind or something. He only wants to take her down a notch. She seems to like him. She certainly likes his medical patents. She wants her son to inherit his business. She is obsessed with it. I think she keeps him intrigued by acting out his bondage fetish fantasies.”

Marylyn interrupted, “I know them! She is an attractive woman. She gets her hair done where I get my hair washed. She is not a natural blond, you know. They are Dr. David Sendai and Elizabeth Sendai.”

Marylyn was intoxicated with the freedom of the club more than the beer that replaced the fine wines. Tom was impressed that this pretty woman knew the Sendai family.

“Well, David plans to surprise Elizabeth. When she submits to a bondage fetish scenario, he is going to cause her to lose control. He wants someone to cut off her pretty hair.

“He wants to watch a pretty long-haired woman do the deed. You up for it? There is $10,000 for you if you will shear and shave Elizabeth.”

Marylyn choked. She liked women but had never acted on this part of herself. Well, she did, but Penny ran away and refused to talk to her again. This hair cutting scene was new to her. She had never cut anyone’s hair and she had almost forgotten how to shave any part of the body. But she smiled. Her nipples grew hard.

Tom gave her Dr. Sendai’s cell phone number. “Call him.”

After a restless two days and nights, she did call Dr. Sendai.

He was a tall, handsome man with a neatly trimmed white beard and his thick hair held a remnant color of rich brown hair blended with ever grayer hair. The two chatted. He liked Marylyn and her lack of haircutting experience. He set a date for her to help him.

He said that they could get away with this because Elizabeth had done many weird things with and for him. He had videos of a lot of it as well as E-mails they exchanged during his many trips. Marylyn bit her lips as they parted. Then he invited her to his club. He wanted her to meet Elizabeth. Marylyn thought this strange.

Elizabeth wore a simply yellow leotard topped by a crocheted yellow sleeveless top. Her unnaturally blond hair looked great. It highlighted her pretty tanned face. She had piercing gray eyes but they were covered by sunglasses – in Portland, but this was summer in Oregon. The mane of rich golden hair running in thick curly rivulets over her head and down to her neck caught Marylyn’s eye.

About five seven, she had a lean but curvaceous body that looked ten years younger than she was. She almost completely ignored Marylyn that late summer evening at the club.

The scene took place a few days later in an elegant lodge in Hood Canal, Washington. It was simple and elegant.

Elizabeth simply sat tied to a straight back chair in a splendid sunny room that overlooked the magnificent Columbia River Gorge.

Marylyn followed the script. She had agreed to get her legs shaved, her underarms shaved, and her crotch waxed.

She wore elegant lingerie blended in the color of her favorite earthy hues of brown, orange, and black. For some unknown reason, she also submitted to three enemas administered by the Sendai’s maid.

Her body throbbed. Her mind laughed at the silly rituals. However, she needed the money and she wanted to shave this pretty woman – to humiliate her.

When Marylyn entered the room, she smiled at the lovely victim. David placed an immense blue ball gag in Elizabeth’s willing mouth.

Then he brought in the tray of barbering tools. Elizabeth looked shocked, then terrified when she heard David say to Marylyn, “You have fifteen minutes. Take it all off. The we’ll shave her. Follow your own desires.”

Elizabeth blanched. Marylyn felt unsteady and her voided gut felt funny. She picked up the big red hair clippers. She snapped on only the smallest guard. She didn’t want to cut her pretty victim. She tossed her great auburn hair from her back over her shoulder and down her bosom. With her bra in Elizabeth’s face, she snapped on the raging clippers and ran it straight down the middle from forehead to crown. She repeated the process. Moving each time with more poise, she quickly reduced the victim’s blond rivulets to bristled nubs.

Without warning and to her own surprise, she pulled down her panties and pushed the remnants of her own bush against the freshly mowed head. That head almost grew shiny, but David would take care of that on his own. At the end of the clipping, Elizabeth broke into tears.

Marylyn took out the big blue gag. It looked silly and uncomfortable. Elizabeth looked at Marylyn with passionate sad Scandinavian eyes. “It’s okay. I needed this as much as David. I hope I see you at Tom’s tavern.”

David walked back into the room he had left to Marylyn and smiled, “Perfect. Now for the shave and what follows.” He handed Marylyn a thick manila envelope of crisp hundred dollar bills – one hundred of them.

Marylyn reluctantly took the envelope. A maid took her out to put on her clothing – alone again. “Why the enemas?”

“Who knows with these people?”

Marylyn went every night to Tom’s tavern – even on the music nights. She did not have to wait many days to finish her job or ask for a special return favor.


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